#she’s fine she’s normal this has nothing to do with spending the previous night feeling helpless in the extreme

[sokovianfortune]

elsa yelling at jack that she doesn’t care about his systems is so funny to me. like ohhhh girl you will though. you’re going to care so much.

[russellsppttemplates]

No more of this (Lando Norris)

Lando is trying to stop the hurt of loosing you by getting ahead of it and (trying to) leave you first

Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ I took a bit of a gamble with this one, and I'm hoping it is still a good enough piece to read! This was from a request for which I had another idea whilst I was writing this one, so I might work on it if this truly is a bad take on it!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: relationship troubles, miscommunication, anxiety symptoms, alludes to the passing of a family member and consequent inheritances

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Lando wasn't sure how long he had been in the room on his own, but he knew he didn't have it in him to leave soon.

He thought he wasn't enough, he was too much trouble for anyone around him, that's why no one is there for him right now.

He grabbed his phone and swiped the screen to check if the texts he sent you had gone through, but the lack of an answer from your part was simply that.

Not even Y/N cares about him or what he needs. Maybe he didn't word it in the right away? Surely, Y/N would have replied by now if he had written it down properly and not appeared like a clingy, needy child. Maybe he could send another one, just to make sure it is all alright.

To lovie ✨️

I'm sorry if that was a lot, but I just wanted to know how your day had been! I love you, sweet girl 🧡

There, all better.

The McLaren driver waited for your answer, hoping to make ammends from his previous tries.

Maybe she's busy, she has so much on her plate as well. She can't take care of Lando too. Lando wonders what his girlfriend would do if she knew you felt like this. If she found him lying in a bed, unable to move and startled by the idea of facing the outside? She would leave him right then and there. Y/N can only take so much and she's not going to take this.

The tears that fell went unoticed until they pooled on the pillow cover fabric, wetting it and dampening Lando's cheek and jaw.

The weight on his chest lightened when his phone vibrated.

From lovie ✨️

I'm so sorry, Lan - my phone was on silent because of the meeting with the notary and I forgot to turn it back up 🤦‍♀️

It has been a busy couple of days with the signings and handovers, but I can already see the end of it!

And how was your day, bubs?

I miss you loads and can't wait to kiss your handsome face 🧡 I love you 💖

There it goes, that wasn't so bad, right? She replied - she's safe, she has a reason why and she wrote I love you. Maybe all of that fuss was for nothing.

Lando quickly typed back a reply, hitting the button to send after reading it a couple of times to ensure it was good.

To lovie ✨️

It's okay, sweet girl, you don't have to worry! It's been same old, had a training session with Jon and then worked on the sim.

Can't wait for you to be home soon, I love you so much ❤️

You replied, that was all he needed. Everything is back to normal, the heartbeat has slowed down, the weight on the chest had been lifted, and breathing wasn't so hard anymore.

For now, anyway.

The last two days had been fine, good even - Lando spent the afternoon playing padel with Max Verstappen, streaming with Quadrant and even played golf on his own, relief washing over him when, despite being on his own, his thoughts didn't take him to the dark side like he expected them to.

You had FaceTimed every night and exchanged texts in the morning so there hadn't been any reason to worry - until now anyway.

When Max and Pietra told you they were flying to Monaco to spend the week there, you decided to postpone leaving for two days and take the flight with them instead.

You'd have to have reached the realisation that Lando is not the best you can do. You couldn't possibly be that blind.

Y/N knows you're he's not good enough, she knows she deserves so much more and now that she has property back home and a safe ground, she'll leave him before he knows it.

It builds up again, his breathing short and laboured while his heart speeds up, his hands unconsciously retreating into themselves and making fists as his nails graze his palm.

You are going to leave him.

Not if Lando leaves you first.

"This isn't even the worst flight we've had", Max reasoned once you landed in Nice, "you're really feeling it, aren't you?", he nudged your shoulder.

"It's just been a busy couple of weeks", you sighed, looking for your luggage on the carrousel, "I'm so glad it's all dealt with now and I can finally be home again", you smil3d tiredly.

"You mean you can finally be with Lando again", Pietra teased you.

"Can you blame me, though? I miss him so much I'm not sure I can keep away from him for long once I hug him", you admitted, spotting the bright blue luggage on the conveyor belt.

"Lando just texted me saying he is by the informative screens", Max offered, grabbing his and Pietra's luggage and leaving the way out of the busy airport.

Once you spotted your boyfriend, you hastened your pace to approach him, leaving the luggage on the side so you could jump into his embrace.

"Hey, my love, I missed you so much", Lando held you impossibly tight to him, nipping on the skin of your neck and inhaling your scent.

Y/N is back, she's here.

"Me too, baby", you said, kissing his neck multiple times, "I'm so glad to be home", you mumbled, pulling a smile out of him before you kissed his lips.

"One could argue we are here too, but we're clearly not that important", Max joked, patting Lando's back where he could given that you were clinging to him like a koala.

"The car is in the -2 Parking zone", Lando offered, grabbing your luggage and walking behind his bestfriend and his girlfriend while keeping you close to him.

For now, this would have to suffice before things changed forever.

The whole drive back to Lando's apartment involved light chatter and catching up on the past few weeks.

"I think we should go out, enjoy some of the night life while you still can", Max slapped Lando's shoulder once you had settled in and unpacked.

"I can get us entrances", the Formula One driver agreed, grabbing his phone before he went through his contacts.

Once the entrances and the dinner reservations were secured, the four of you took turns in showering and getting ready, Lando never letting you leave his sight for long.

"You look beautiful, lovie", Lando complimented, watching your shake out the curls you had done on your hair.

"Thank you, bubs - you look really handsome too, I love it when you wear all black", you mused, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles gently.

It was all good. You didn't seem mad or upset with him, in the contrary actually - like he felt, you too were a bit needy for his touch and to have him close to you, offering him reassuring words and sweet nothings every time you could. Maybe his thoughts were a lie. Some of them have been, maybe those were too.

The dinner was lovely and you were able to walk to the club you'd be spending the night in, getting drinks first before finding the area you were staying in. Lando was quickly pulled by the DJ on the booth, recognising him from previous nights out, while you, Max and Pietra stayed where you were.

He was enjoying himself before he noticed you were chatting with someone else, remembering him from your friend's birthday.

He has a girlfriend who is Y/N's friend, Lando has nothing to worry about.

Until he does.

He doesn't miss the way you hug him or the way you engage in light chat with him, all smiles and cheers.

You deserve someone who is always there for you, who can be present and make you smile like that all the time, and he knows he's not the person for the job.

"I'm going back down to my group - thanks for the invite", Lando shook his hand before pulling the DJ for a quick hug, making his way to you and your friends.

"Hey, love, you're back!", you smiled with a big wave to beckon him over, lacing your hand in his as soon as you were close enough, "you remember Marvin, right?".

"Yes, hi, how are you?", he mused, shaking his hand before protectively placing his arm around your waist.

Marvin had to leave to go be with his friend group as since then, you noticed Lando seemed weird. He was usually the life of the party and he always enjoyed himself in these environments, so to see him just stand there and sway his head to the music was a foreign sight.

"Dance with me, baby", you put your back to his chest, letting his hand hold you by your waist still while you swayed your bodies.

"I love you, Y/N, never forget that", he mumbled spontaneously after a while, kissing your cheek multiple times before hiding your face in your neck.

"I love you too, Lan, so much", you replied back as that was the last clue that something was going on.

A couple hours later, and after you had been sat at the booth for quite a bit, you told Lando that you felt a little tired, Max and Pietra agreeing with you that all the travelling had caught up with you, so you made your way out and back to his apartment.

"Have a goodnight, guys", you waved as Max helped his girlfriend into the room, the blonde woman having already fallen asleep on the way.

"Are you feeling better, Y/N?", Lando wondered as he watched you put your heels back in their spot once you stepped inside your bedroom and closed the door behind you.

You debated telling him the truth, but your relationship has been built in honesty and trust about everything, so the course to take was obvious, "Actually", you began, "I am totally fine, but I noticed you weren't great, you didn't seem that happy and I thought we could talk about it , if you'd like", you suggested, "or we could sleep, I'm fine with either, but I hope you choose the one that makes you feel better", you smiled.

The smile quickly vanished when Lando got up from the bed, his body language tight and tense, "now you care about me? Now you want to know if I'm okay or if I'm doing what makes me happy? All after I felt like shit and had to deal with things on my own?", Lando mused, taking you aback with such words.

"Lando, baby, what do you mean with that?", you asked.

"You were here and I was there, and then I have been here while you've been back home and you haven't been there for me", Lando spat, "I just wanted you by my side, I needed you and you weren’t there for me", he concluded. The anger previously in his tone was replaced by sadness and a hint of shame even.

"Lando, it's not like I have been on vacation purposefully away from you - there have been matters that my family needed me to take care of as there wasn't anyone else to take that responsibility! I don't understand where this is coming from - if I wasn't with you it's because I really couldn't be there!", you argued.

"It's... I can't do this right now", Lando looked up as tears started brimming his eyes.

"It seems not", you defended yourself, feeling the hints of accusation and the lack of flexibility and empathy from your boyfriend, "excuse me", you offered, grabbing your pyjamas and leaving your shared bedroom.

The accusations you threw to one another were heard by your guests as Max looked for you while you adjusted the living room sofa so that it could turn into a single bed, not needing the full sized mattress since you'd be clearly sleeping alone.

"What are you doing here?", Max wondered.

"You don't need to pretend you didn't hear that", you shrugged your shoulders before wiping your cheeks with your thumb, pulling on the sheet so the corner wouldn't fly off during the night.

"I can't take the guest room when you are sleeping here, Y/N", Max offered, pulling your hand so you would get up.

"I'm fine, it's not like I'm counting on getting that much sleep", you mumbled, sitting down against the cushions.

"You two are going to sort it out", Max gulped, "you always do, Y/N", sitting down next to you.

"Do you think we will?", you muttered, the weight of the words leaving your mouth settling in the possibility, "did he tell you anything? I'm at a loss at where all of this has come from", you offered your perspective.

"You're Lando and Y/N - there is no way in this world that you don't make it work. You are meant to be, no matter whatever turn you took in your life or whatever decisions you could've taken differently, you and Lando were supposed to meet in every single one of them", Max comforted as he rubbed your back, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Things are so messed up between us", you tutted at your boyfriend's earlier words and the disbelief that this was happening.

"Lando has been under a lot of pressure lately", Max offered, "I know his words hurt you and I'm certainly not justifying them, but he's... He just wants to be his best self for you, and between his family issues and this season's prospects, not having you with him there has shaken the foundation he thought was his steady self".

"I didn't notice it - yay for the bad girlfriend points!", you jokingly cheered before groaning, "I need out of this day".

"That's why you should go to the spare bedroom to sleep it off, Y/N", Max sternly said, "and you're not a bad girlfriend for this, not at all".

"I'm staying here, I told you", you stated, "you go and take that spare room, P is probably asleep on the bed already", you giggled, "I'll be fine".

"Tomorrow is a new day and a new opportunity for a fresh outlook of this whole situation", Max tapped his thighs before getting up, "Good night, Y/N".

"Good night, Max", you waved as he turned off the ceiling lights and closed the French doors that separated the living room from the dining room and the rest of the apartment.

Lando tossed and turned around for what felt like the hundredth time since he laid down on the mattress.

His words didn't come out the way he wanted them to.

But maybe it was for the best.

He didn't want to hurt you, and that is both a burden and a guilt that he will carry for the rest of his life.

She'll never forgive him. Not now that he's really shown how messed up and broken he is. How the playful, giggly boyfriend she was with is now a shell of a poor excuse of a man. He had been spending the nights alone since you were gone, but now that he knew you were - hopefully - still somewhere in the apartment and not next to him, the weight on his chest couldn't be heavier. It gets harder to breathe, and the thoughts don't stop.

He's lost the best person in his life because these insecurities got the best of him. Once again, he's letting them win and take charge of his life.

Lando sits up and holds the pillow you usually sleep with, trying to catch a small whiff of your scent that still lingers there and usually calms him down.

He's done something really bad. Maybe this was him. This was who he was nowadays and he was truly doing you the favour of letting you out before it got too bad.

When Lando wakes up after sleeping for what feels like a long nap, only Max is up as he steps into the kitchen.

"Morning", Lando muttered, not sure where to pick up from what he knows his bestfriend heard only a couple of hours ago.

"Morning, mate! P is feeling the hangover, so she'll be out for a while! Let's go on a run, it will do us both good", he put his hands on Lando's shoulders and patting them.

Lando groans and looks longingly at the living room, noticing the closed doors, wondering if you were still asleep.

Such an ass he is, letting his girlfriend sleep on the sofa.

Lando and Max run the usual distance, stopping to stretch at the little park area near his apartment, and because it's still early, there is no one else around but them and an older man walking his dog.

"Will you tell me what's going on with you and Y/N? Because by the looks of it, you really should talk to someone about it", Max stated. There wasn't a chance that Lando could run away from this, figuratively or literally, so he explained to his bestfriend what had been going on his mind.

"Do you think I am someone worthy of her? Y/N deserves so much better than me, so it's best if she leaves me first", Lando concluded.

"If she leaves you first, what?! Do you think it won't hurt you? Or her? Is that what this is all about?", Max argued, "you're seriously telling me that the only way you see a solution for this is to break up with her because you're so sure she wants to break up with you?! This is ridiculous, Lando!!".

"Of course it will hurt, Max! I love that girl with everything I have and I can't bear the thought of disappointing her, of her having less than she deserves, and I also can't even think about her leaving me! The anticipation that any moment she could say those words has been killing me!", he admitted outloud for the first time.

"Lando, that girl loves you with every bone of her body, do you really think she is going to break up with you?", Max sighed, "your mind is lying to you and it pains me to see the way it's doing it to you and the people around you".

"I'm not where I should be, these thoughts are consuming me left and right and I can't tell apart what is real and what my mind is catastrophising ", Lando agreed.

"Lando, people can't help you if you don't tell them you're feeling like that", Max stated, both sternly and empathetically, "and there are so many people that care about you".

They sit in silence in the bench as Lando ponders his words and Max replays them on his head.

"Is that what is going on in your head, though? That Y/N is going to leave you, and so you're getting ahead of it by breaking up with her?", Max mused.

"When you say it like that, it sounds so stupid and the opposite of what I want to do", Lando scoffed at himself, "but everything is aligned to it - she can do so much better for herself, and it's stupid I know, but my mind goes on and on about this and it almost never quietens down", he gulped.

"Y/N doesn't want to leave you, Lando, that's another lie you're telling yourself", Max offered, "she loves you and you deserve eachother because you're it, you're the endgame and you can work through this, but she needs to know".

"I know - sometimes I do anyway, I think", Lando chuckled lightly at his own joke, "we need to go home, I need to speak with Y/N".

"Indeed you do", Max agreed, getting up and following him to the apartment.

Pietra was already up and in the kitchen when the boys arrived, pecking her boyfriend's lips and looking at Lando, "Y/N's up, we have had breakfast and she went back to the living room while I was in the shower", she informed as Lando nodded.

"Can I come in?", Lando asked after knocking on the door.

"Yes, it's your apartment after all", you mused as he stepped inside

"No, Y/N", Lando groaned, "this is our place, my love, and there's something I need to tell you, many things in fact", he added.

"You should start then", you patted the spot next to the mattress where you had spent the night.

"I love you, Y/N, so much, that was never a question, and it was because I love you so much that every now and again, I have these thoughts that I'm not good enough for you, that I can't give you what you deserve and that you'd be better off with someone else, or without me", he took a big breath in, "I just wanted to be my best self for you, and it all comes crashing and building up and up and I can't shut the noise down".

"Lando, you could've told me, I would've helped, try to do my best in helping you so you weren't carrying this on your own", you offered, your hand crawling to his so you could hold it in yours.

"I hated that I needed you that much because you also have your own life and you don't want to be next to me every waking second. In my head, you shouldn't have to deal with me being needy of feeling like this", he admitted.

"And I'll be, I don't care what you need or say, Lando, I'm going to be here for you, I don't have to go back for a while now, so I'll be where you need me", you offered, "and, Lando, you could never be too much for me, you could never make me feel like I can do better because every day I thank my lucky stars that we're together and that you feel the same love I feel for you", you cupped his face, "you deserve so much, Lando Norris, and I'll work everyday to prove you that you're worthy of love and care and that things going on here are sometimes a lie", you kissed his forehead.

"I don't deserve having you, I yelled at you for no reason", Lando mumbled.

"There was a reason, and it would take me a lot more than you yelling at me when you're stressed and worried, but I'd also like to know whatever is happening when it is happening so I can help, or we can seek out professional help too", you rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs.

No one had ever fought for him like this. He's used to be the one to prove to people that they belong in his life and that's he's all in, not the other way around since, once every time his partners start to feel like it's too much once the honeymoon phase fades out and regular, day-to-day troubles show up notice it getting serious, they flee.

"We'll do this together, lovie", Lando muttered against your lips as he looked into your eyes, "I'm sorry I doubted you when in reality you are the one who's always stuck with me", he smiled, kissing your lips.

[back2bluesidex]

Hard Luck - JJK & KTH (18+) - Chapter 1

◆ Pairing: CEO Jungkook X Fem employee Reader X Legal advisor Taehyung. 

◆ Summary: You have a good face, a nice body, a fat amount saved in your secondary bank account, a stable job that you love, loving friends and family, you are good in bed. You have almost everything other than a good luck in love. Sleeping around with random dudes don’t feel enough when your friends are getting married and having kids. If you are being honest, you have started getting bored of this prolonged singlehood already. 

Your last light of hope fades away when your work crush, aka the hot guy from the legal department, Kim Taehyung (with whom you might or might not have slept once, okay! twice!), asks you to set him up with your work best friend (who, apparently, is the most asked out woman of the company). But what you don’t know is that the CEO of the company has taken a liking to you and has started on a mission of winning your heart. 

But wait… Taehyung might have started developing feelings for you in the process of receiving your help.

◆ Chapter summary: Two meetings - One went good - another went downhill.

◆ Theme: Romance, drama, light angst, my poor attempt of humor, fluff and eventual smut. office romance au,

◆ Warnings: Tiny bit angst.

◆ Word count: 3.2k+

◆ A/N: let me know your thoughts.

Minors aren't allowed in this blog!!!!

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You have a very love-hate relationship with weekends. 

Love because who the hell doesn’t like free times, no rush to drive to work, a quiet time on their couch with some unhealthy snacks and a good movie playing on the TV? 

Hate because weekends make you feel alone. Today is just a copy of yesterday.  

On most Friday nights you end up going drinking with your teammates, save your Saturdays for your friends and your precious Sundays are for yourself and yourself only. 

But lately, your said friends have changed, not by choice but by circumstances. Two of them are married, one is engaged and another just started dating after a prolonged singlehood - leaving you completely out of the order. Now they name most of their Saturdays to their partners, which makes you angry but you know that’s the only normal thing to do. 

So, now you are the one that neither has a partner and nor anyone to spend most of your Saturdays with. 

You sigh as you scroll through netflix. 

There is nothing that catches your eyes, intrigues you enough to start watching. 

Just when you are about to read the description of this new cheesy romcom, your phone vibrates with a call. 

It’s your mom - she calls you ten times a day. 

“Hmmm?” you greet her absent-mindedly. 

“Mia just gave birth to a baby boy!!!” she squeals on the other side of the phone. You can feel her excitement through the vibration of her digitized voice. 

The news lights you up as well. Mia is your favorite cousin and older than you by a year only. 

“Really? Woah! Is the baby fine? Is she fine?” 

“Both of them are fine, ddal.” Your mother, now, replies calmly, “it’s only me who is not.” 

“What? What happened? Joint-pain again?” you sit up on the couch. 

“No. That's not it.” your mother whines. You love to hear her whines. 

“Then?” 

“When will I have my grandchild?” she huffs, making you laugh. 

“Eomma, I’m only 27.” you remind her. 

“That’s why I am reminding you, darling. If you start looking for a man now, you will be able to gift me a grandchild before I hit seventy.”  

The mention of a ‘man’ draws a very particular face on your vision. 

You know you should not think too much, read too much into someone’s actions. But at this age, when you already started feeling alone, feeling the desire for someone to come back home to, you can’t help but to feel the need of holding the next best person who shows you a silver of interest. 

And Taehyung has shown a lot of it. 

You will win in life if you manage to bag someone as nice, hot, handsome and successful as him. 

“Maybe… maybe very soon, eomma.” you add a trail of words to end your thoughts. 

“Omo! Really? Are you seeing someone?” she’s now way too much excited and her excitement makes you want more from the guy who only fucked you twice. 

“No- it’s not that. I am just talking about the possibilities.” your voice sounds frail for some reason. Possibility is what it is. Nothing is confirmed. 

You know you have a crush on Taehyung but at the same time you have no idea if there is more than just lust in his mind.

You try not to think of negative things and engage your mother in off-topic conversations. But in the back of your mind, Taehyung stays still, with his baritone voice and boxy smile. 

“Good morning, sweetheart” Hani, the colleague you are the closest to, chirps in with her sweet voice. 

She is the epitome of perfection. 

The girl looks like a goddess, very friendly, the life of the party, smiles at everyone - doesn’t really matter if she knows them or not, is an amazing cook, and good at the job she does. 

Her amazing persona accompanied by that next level face card, makes her the most desired woman of the company. 

There is hardly any bachelor who hasn’t asked her out yet. And Taehyung is one of them (which makes you think that he must be into you). 

Sometimes you are jealous of her - okay! Scratch that! Most of the time you are jealous of her ability to make friends, to have people wrapped around her fingers without having to do anything while you practically have to beg your own friends to spend their weekends with you. 

And being asked out? That’s a completely different story. 

What you have understood from your experience is that guys love to have you on their bed. You are a good fuck, you know that. But a wife material? No. 

You are way too aloof, emotionally unattached to entertain anyone more than normal boundaries allow you to. Hence, you end up pushing people away.  

And now - at an age where you should be in a long term relationship - you are alone. 

“Good morning, Hani.” you reply with a genuine smile gracing your lips. Honestly, very few people can pull a genuine smile out of you and Hani is certainly one of them. 

Had it been anyone else as popular as her, they would have a big fat ego. But Hani is different and that’s why you love her. 

“How was the weekend?” she asks, placing her order for her usual iced americano. You still don’t understand how people consume this as the first thing in the morning. It’s nothing but cold and bitter.  

You grab your iced vanilla latte and take a mouth full of the sweetness, “as usual. Boring. Only me and my couch and netflix” 

“Oh? You could have called me in. I was mostly alone too.” she sips her aa-aa, and makes a delightful face. You scrunch your nose at that. 

“Really? I thought you do those volunteering stuff on weekends?” you two walk towards the elevator while sipping on your beverages. 

“That’s for day-time. I am usually free during the nights. So, try calling me if you need a companion.” she eyes you expectantly. 

You know she feels alone too, just like you. 

Hani came out of her two year long relationship just a few months ago. She probably feels alone during her free time as her partner is not there to entertain her anymore. 

And maybe it’s a good idea. 

Even though you don’t like to extend your professional relationships beyond the gates of your workplace - Hani can be different. 

You can take this friendship a little further, you guess. 

The elevator door slides open, revealing a certain someone you look for a lot these days. 

Taehyung smiles brightly at you. Two strands of his dark hair fall on his forehead, his siren eyes are full of mirth as they quickly dip down to check you out. But then his eyes fall on Hani. And if you are not wrong then they have a brief eye-contact before someone behind asks you and your friend to get inside and make space already. 

An odd feeling blooms inside your chest. 

Taehyung checked you out, that’s for sure. But what were those love eyes that he regarded Hani with? Did he just fall in love at first sight or something of that sort? 

You settle inside the dingy space of the elevator rather uncomfortably - both physically and metaphorically. 

Hani is standing in front of you and Taehyung is just behind your back. You are sandwiched between the two of them and weirdly enough - you don’t feel too good about the situation. Because you can see Taehyung staring at Hani through the glazed metal door or the elevator. Something churns inside of you at the thought of Taehyung being smitten by your work best friend. 

But maybe you are thinking too much? Maybe time will soon prove you wrong. 

Wrong. Everything is wrong. 

Your teammates do an impressive job everyday except for the days when there is an important meeting and you need documented reports. 

Today is one of those days. And today is even more horrifying because this will be your very first meeting with the new CEO who took over less than a month ago. 

Streets say he is as strict as his father if not more. That’s basically all you know about Jeon Jungkook. You don’t know what he looks like or what he sounds like. And that makes you anxious. 

The prospect of having an one-on-one meeting with the new, young CEO has been freaking you out already and now your subordinate had to do a sloppy reporting job.  

“Oh lord! Sooho! Why did you write ‘no penetration this month’ when the chart is at its peak?” You don’t like to scream at all but the migraine that is climbing up through the path of your neck mixes with your frustration and turns your sentence a little more high pitched than what you usually use. 

“Oh?” your teammate blinks at you being dumbfounded, “is that called penetration?” 

“Yes of course? What did you think? We are asking about your sex life in the reports?” you can’t help but mock the boy. 

Laughter echoes through your workspace but it quickly dies down when you glare at your teammates. They mumble apologies but you pretend not to hear any of it. 

“Sorry, seonbae. I will fix it right away.” he runs towards his cubicle. 

“You have five minutes.” you issue a warning. Taking your phone in your hands, you find a text sitting on your screen. 

Taetae: Any plans tonight?

Your chest heaves with the long breath that you inhale upon reading the text. See… Taehyung still wants to see you! It’s you he wants to see! And you went on an overdrive thinking he might ditch you now and start chasing Hani like the other men of the office. 

Your nails clink against your phone screen as you type your reply. 

You: nope. 

You don’t even get the chance of putting down your phone because his reply comes right away. 

Taetae: Then let's get a coffee after work. I will wait at the lounge. 

You: Sounds cool. 

You don’t know what you feel about this one-on-one meeting situation. 

The previous CEO, Mr. Jeon Jae Gyeong, had meetings with all of the department heads at once and got done with it. 

But the younger Mr. Jeon has sent out emails to everyone stating very clearly that he would be changing the meeting format. 

So, now you are here. Waiting outside his massive office (that could fit your entire workspace and still leave space for a snack pantry), on the verge of an anxiety attack. 

The more you wait, the more restless you feel. Your heels start tapping against the floor creating a rapid sound. The CEO’s assistant, a beautiful guy with blonde hair and soft features, looks at you with an assuring smile - as if to tell you that ‘it’s okay. Don’t get your nerves worked up.’ 

you smile back at him feeling a tiny bit better. 

Just then the huge door of the CEO’s office slides open. The head of the finance team walks out and from the look on his face you can tell that his meeting didn’t go too well. 

Your throat dries at the assumption of what you might face when you go inside. 

You are not going to get fired, right? Right?!

Mr. Bae, the finance head, walks out in haste heightening your anxiety even more. 

Just then the assistant receives a call on his line and murmurs something. He looks at you and says, “you may go inside now.” 

Your legs almost give out. You start planning to go home and update your resume to look for opportunities.  

Taking a long breath, you push the door open. 

Your eyes fall on the prominent figure that is sitting on the large mahogany table. His eyes are focused on the ipad. Mouth shut tight, lips pursed, his downturned face is casted with a shadow, which prevents you from taking a good look at his face. 

What you see is the silver ring that glints on his eyebrow. And are those tattoos on his hand? 

Even if he heard you coming in he clearly didn’t plan on providing you with any of his attention. 

“May I come in, Mr. Jeon?” you curse at the way there is zero confidence in your voice. 

He then looks up at you and locks his eyes with yours. 

Holy shit! He is handsome! 

Your chest heaves with another long breath. 

You wait for him to call you inside but he just sits still staring at you with big doe eyes. His gaze is piercing, intimidating and makes you weak on your knees. 

His Adam's apple bobs as he gulps once before clearing his throat, “Miss Y/N. Please come in.” 

You take careful steps towards his desk praying that you don’t trip and embarrass yourself. He ushers his hand towards the chair, asking you to take a seat voicelessly. 

You do as he asks. 

“How are you doing, Miss Y/N?” Jeon Jungkook asks without diverting his piercing gaze from yours. 

He is looking at you so intently as if he has known you for a long time. 

You give him an easy smile, “I’m doing fine, Mr.Jeon. What about you?” you return his courtesy. 

“Doing great.” Jeon Jungkook gives you a very pretty, heart fluttering kind of smile. 

If your heart really flutters a little  - you are not going to dwell upon it. 

“So, let’s talk about work.” he hums as he dives into his laptop and probably opens the reports you have mailed him earlier. 

Taking a minute to check all the reports, he opens his mouth to speak, “pretty impressive. I have gone through the reports from previous months as well and as I am seeing this month's reports - you have been bringing great results. Online traffic is at an all-time high, ad-clicks have gone past the five million mark, there are an average of 20 real-time users and at least 5 of them are from the states. Great. I must say” he pauses to look at you, “I am very impressed.” The last part of his sentence comes out breezy, a little bit suggestive as if his words are not only about your work. 

Your stomach feels light. 

“Thank you sir.” that’s all you manage to reply. Absent-mindedly you take your lower-lip in between your teeth and nip on it. 

The action catches Jungkook’s eyes. 

“Are you nervous?” he places a very unexpected question, catching you off-guard. 

“Ah- yeah. I mean, It’s my very first encounter with you as the CEO, so I could not help being a bit anxious. Apologies if my actions have disappointed you in any way.” you straighten your back and speak confidently this time. 

He doesn’t seem rude at all. You allow yourself to feel at ease. 

“Don’t worry about that. I get you. But be assured I am not going to eat you up.” he giggles. His giggle makes you break into a smile as well. 

“That’s all for the day. Looking forward to working with you…” Jungkook extends his hand towards you. You wrap your smaller one around his palm and he mutters, “...closely.”  

When you look into his eyes, you see mischief. 

“Sure.” you reply, sucking in all the air you could. 

By the time you come out of his room, your heart is thumping inside your ears. 

What the fuck was that? How is he so handsome? And what were those eyes he looked at you with? Why did he murmur ‘closely’ like that? 

No! You are overthinking again! You scold yourself. 

The assistant gives you another smile as you bow at him a little and walk away. You find Hani waiting to be called inside. 

When she sees you, she approaches you with a nervous grin, “how is the new CEO?” she whisper-yells. 

“Very nice and handsome.” you whisper back. She makes an “O” with her mouth before she gets called inside. 

You check your lips once more in the mirror. 

Being too focused on perfecting your lip liner, you don’t see Hani coming inside the washroom. You only become attentive of her presence when she smacks your ass. 

“Ouch!” a painful groan leaves your lips, “don’t do this! People might think we are dating!” 

“I’d have totally dated you if I wasn’t straight.” Hani chuckles standing beside you, “what’s the occasion tho? Have a date or something?” 

“Nope. Gonna meet Taehyung for a quick coffee.” 

Hani’s eyes wide at that, “Taehyung? As in Kim Taehyung from the legal team?” 

“Yup.” 

“Ohh hooo” she sings “I didn’t know you guys have coffees with each other, huh?” 

“It’s not what you think, Hani.” you look at her, raising a brow. 

“Oh? Really? But I think he is a good guy. He even greeted me when we met during lunch and I’m sure he didn’t even know me before this morning.” 

Huh? Taehyung greeted Hani? That’s weird. Because he hardly ever smiles at people he doesn’t know properly. 

You don’t let your expression give away your thoughts when you murmur a little ‘yeah’ to your friend. 

Teahyung looks like a painting - or better - a sculpture as he sits there facing the huge window of the lounge. 

He is devastatingly handsome. A smile creeps up to your lips without you realizing so. 

This time you walk confidently, marching towards him as if you own it all. The sound of your heels against the floor makes him face you and look up at you.

“Hey” he greets you as you sit down across from him. 

“Hi” you greet back, waving your hand to a waiter. 

“How was the day?” Taehyung asks, once you are done placing your order. 

“Nerve-wracking. I almost fainted before the one-on-one meeting.” you recall the incidents, then the man. 

Jeon Jungkook’s handsome face flashes before your eyes for a second. 

Taehyung chuckles at your answer, “I know. Jungkook can be really intimidating.” 

You pout, “oh? You’re talking as if you know him personally?” 

“Actually yes. We are not at all close and probably talked a few times but we share the same group of friends.” 

Your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline at the information, “Really? That’s great. It would have been easy for you to face him then.” 

“Oh god! Not at all! He had me pinned at my seat for the entire meeting. All serious expressions and no smile.” Taehyung grimaces at the memory. 

“He smiled at me though. Actually… giggled. He was super nice.” you start recalling the encounter again. 

“He must have really liked you.” Taehyung muses. 

Is he jealous? You ask yourself. Even though Teahyung sounds anything but envious. 

“By the way, Y/N. I asked you to meet today for a selfish reason.” he smiles sheepishly. 

“What is it?” you ask sipping your coffee that just arrived. 

“Are you close to Hani?” 

As soon as the words leave Taehyung's lips, your world stops moving. You know what is about to come and it breaks your heart but you are determined not to show it on your face. 

“Yeah. why?” you manage to voice upon gulping the lump that formed in your throat. 

All of a sudden Taehyung lunches forward grasping your hands with his big ones, “help me please. Set me up with her! Pleaaaaseeeee” his boxy smile is on full view. 

Once that smile warmed you up but right now you feel nothing but cold. 

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[hqbaby]

twenty-six — this isn’t us

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.5k content. profanity

Sukuna didn’t sleep a wink all night. Maybe it was the lack of comfort, the fact that he had to lie on a sleeping bag on the ground beside Mahito tossing form or the way Aoi kept managing to place his foot in his face. Maybe it was the adrenaline from the whole night, an endless chain of events that had startled his system beyond belief. Maybe it was because Naoya kept waking up every few hours, scrolling through his TikTok with the speakers on full volume before drifting back to sleep with the “Nasty” audio still playing on a loop.

Or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t spoken to you after everything that happened. How you’d pushed him away after everyone had regrouped in the living room, saying you just needed some space. How you’d sat cross-legged in front of the fire for a good half hour, ignoring everyone until you decided to get up and go to bed.

It doesn’t matter what caused his bout of sleeplessness. All he knows is that he’s at the table now, everyone chatting away around him as they eat their breakfast, and you’re nowhere to be found.

There’s a palpable tension in the room. While everyone was either plastered or tipsy when everything went down last night, they have a general sense of what happened. No one has spoken about it around Sukuna, but he suspects that the occasional whispering out of his supposed earshot involves a great deal of talk about it all.

Maki and Nobara have been mostly keeping to themselves. Nobara’s more receptive to people coming up and offering her food, exchanging smalltalk about the weather, if they plan on skiing later; Maki not so much.

Sukuna can tell that something has shifted between Satoru and Kimi with the way they keep each other at arm’s length, the former basically attaching himself to Suguru and the latter spending more time with Utahime and Kento. They’re both keeping up relatively normal facades, but Sukuka can see through them. Something has definitely changed.

Everyone’s clearing breakfast away when you finally step out of the room where most of the girls slept last night. The expression on your face is completely blank. It’s like your physical body is here but your mind is elsewhere. You barely register when Nobara offers you the plate she set aside for you earlier.

“Are you gonna hit the slopes with us later?” Utahime asks, a gentle smile on her face as she approaches you.

You’re picking at your pancakes when you shake your head. “I don’t feel too good,” you tell her. “I think I’ll just hang back. You have fun though.”

The tone of your voice kills Sukuna. You sound like you’re reading off a script, the words leaving your mouth in a monotone drawl. It’s so unlike you, so different from your usual jaunt, the way you normally speak like your tongue is bouncing with each word.

“Okay,” Utahime says. She pulls you in for a quick little side hug. “If you change your mind though.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

When most of them clear out to go get ready to ski, Sukuna finds it in himself to get up from his place and make his way over to you. You don’t react when he pulls a chair up, the legs screeching as he drags it across the floor. You don’t even look at him when he sits down and awkwardly arranges himself in the seat.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “You sleep alright?”

You let your fork scrape against your plate. “No,” you tell him. “You?”

“Not at all.”

You hum.

Sukuna can’t bear this, this distance between the two of you, the way you won’t even look at him. You’ve had rough patches before, pieces of time when you didn’t speak after some petty fight or other, but nothing like this. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to deal with the fallout of this kind of situation. It’s never happened before.

“Can we talk?” he asks—although it sounds more like he’s pleading than anything.

He watches as you gnaw your lower lip. You stop poking at your food. You shake your head. “I don’t think—”

“Please,” he says. “We don’t even have to talk about our shit. We can deal with that later. I just can’t stand seeing you like this.”

You sigh. “Sukuna,” you say softly. “I don’t want to—”

“Let me be your best friend right now.” His voice is desperate. He’ll take anything at this point. Anything. If you’d only let him in, if you’d just stop putting this wall between the two of you. “Just let me be here for you. This isn’t us. We don’t act all cold with each other, we talk. We always talk.”

“Sukuna,” you say, harder now.

“Just talk to me,” he says, taking your hand in his. “Don’t push me out, don’t—”

“Sukuna!” You pull your hand away, eyes finally meeting his. He looks so hurt, so disappointed. All you can think is, This is your fault. You’ve broken your best friend. The one good thing in your life, and you’re pushing him out.

You’re doing what you always do. What you suspect you always will.

“You should go with them,” you tell him.

He shakes his head, adamant. “I don’t want to. I want to be with you.”

Part of you wants him to stay. You want him to hold you like he always does when things in your life are in shambles. You want him to be there for you. You want to accept all the comfort he’s offering you. All the familiarity that comes with him, all the love you’ve grown accustomed to.

But there’s another part of you that clings to the thoughts of last night. The whole mess of your life laid out before you, each piece carefully polished and displayed for you to see. A whole load of baggage that you don’t think you have the strength to hoist onto his lap, to let him deal with.

And then there’s the quiet voice in the back of your head, not your own. An afterthought. A misunderstanding, you’re sure, barely even relevant in the grand scheme of things, but a lingering doubt nonetheless.

Satoru’s voice whispers in the corner of your mind.

“He cheated on you.”

You still don’t know what that means.

You know that if you let Sukuna in, you’re going to have to ask him about it. You’re going to have to find out whatever it is that Satoru is supposedly lording over your best friend. And you don’t know if you’re ready to hear his answer.

As much as you know Sukuna and you know how much he cares about you, how much people misconstrue his actions, his intentions, who he really is—you’re starting to think that you don’t really know anything right now. Everything that happened last night was a direct cause of you not seeing the whole picture, taking things at face value.

Maybe you were wrong about Sukuna.

Maybe everyone was right.

Maybe he really was a bad idea all along.

“Go with them,” you say weakly. “I need time to think.”

“I don’t need time,” he tells you, placing his hands on the table as he leans towards you. “We already took too much time getting here. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to talk.”

He seems so sincere, so sure of everything. Could he be lying? Has he been lying all along?

You inch away from him and look back down at your plate. “I can’t,” you tell him. “Please. Just give me this. I promise we’ll talk later.”

“When?”

“When I’m ready.”

“And when will that be?”

“Sukuna—”

“Stop saying my name like that,” he says, nose wrinkling in disgust.

You frown. “Like what?”

“Like I’m some asshole stranger that you don’t know, that doesn’t know you,” he says. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Don’t think for a minute that any of that’s changed.”

That pulls you out of your thoughts, even by just a little. Still, there’s a nagging feeling in your chest. One that knows that nothing can happen between the two of you until you finish what you started last night. Until you deal with Satoru.

You reach your hand over and place it on top of his. “Later,” you say. “I promise.”

He looks at you for a moment, studies the furrow of your brow, the downturn of your lip. Then, hesitantly, he nods. “Okay,” he says. “If you promise.”

“I do,” you tell him, offering a weak smile. “I just need a minute to catch my breath. We’ll talk as soon as I’m ready, okay?”

“Okay,” he says. “We’ll talk when you’re ready.”

You squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”

You wave at them through the window as they gather outside the house, some excitedly prancing around, some rolling their eyes at the excited prancing, some—mainly Sukuna and Maki—looking like they would rather be anywhere but there.

When they’re gone, you walk away from the window and press your back against the wall. You slide down onto the floor and feel a weight descend on you. The weight of everything. The confusion, the helplessness, the despair of the previous day sinking into your bones.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You pull it out, blink at the contact name on your screen, and answer the call.

“Mom? Is everything okay?”

“I’m getting out of here,” you hear her speak on the other line. There’s a lot of noise wherever she is. Things being thrown, being pulled, being pushed together.

You straighten up. “What?” you say. “What happened?”

She huffs. “I can’t live with him anymore. He’s a fucking asshole!” The last part is yelled, not to you but to someone else. “Are you at your apartment?”

“No,” you tell her. “I’m on a trip with friends. Mom, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I’ve just had enough. You were right. He’s never going to change.”

“Dad?”

“Who else would I be talking about?” You hear her sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m going to stay with your aunt for a few days. When does your trip end?”

“Tomorrow,” you answer. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not physically, no,” she says. “I’m fine. Go enjoy the rest of your trip, I’ll head to your place when you come back. We’ll talk then.”

You furrow your brows. “Sure,” you say. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, baby,” she tells you. “I just wanted you to let you know what’s happening. I’ll see you soon.”

She hangs up before you can ask her again if everything is okay. If she needs your help.

You put your phone down and stare at it as the screen goes black again.

Great. Another thing you have to worry about.

“Oh.”

You look up and find Satoru standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with surprise.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he says. “I thought you went with them.”

You shake your head. “I don’t trust myself to ski right now,” you tell him. “If I fell, I probably wouldn’t have the strength to get up.”

He lets out a soft chuckle at that. “I get what you mean.” He makes a few cautious steps towards you, then looks at the spot beside you. “Mind if I sit?”

You shrug. “Go ahead.”

He crouches down, grunting as he plops himself onto the carpet. “Remind me to never climb up the roof again.”

“Why’d you go up to the roof?”

“Hide and seek,” he answers like it’s so obvious. “You gotta do what you gotta do to win, you know.”

“To be fair, I’d say that I won the game last night.”

“Only ‘cause you cheated.”

“I did not cheat.”

“You were literally unreachable!” he says. “Kento had to find a crowbar to get you out!”

You smile. “Haven’t you heard? You gotta do what you gotta do to win.”

The two of you laugh, and it feels nice. It’s a good reprieve after everything. It isn’t much but it’s enough to not make you feel as shitty as you’ve been feeling.

Satoru leans back and nudges your shoulder with his.

“I’m sorry for all the yelling last night,” he says. “And for what I said.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t cool, man,” you say. “But it’s okay. You were upset. It was… a lot to take in.”

He nods. “I still shouldn’t have done that.”

“There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have done,” you tell him quietly. “I’m really sorry, you know.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

You turn to him when you feel him shuffle, finding him reaching into his pocket for something. He pauses, like he’s considering his next actions very carefully, then he pulls the thing out of his pants and places it on the sliver of space between the two of you.

“Here,” he says. “That’s yours.”

You stare at the small box. It’s a dark blue velvet, in stark contrast to the white of the carpet. You frown. “What is that?”

He pushes it closer to you. “Open it.”

You glance at him, then at the box, then at him, then back at the box. Slowly, you pick the thing up. It’s light, so light you’d think there was nothing inside. It sits in the palm of your hand for a moment before you carefully pry it open.

The ring sits in the middle. A simple one, a silver band and a diamond set in the middle. It’s not the kind of ring that calls attention to itself, but you’d notice it on anyone’s finger. You couldn’t not look at it.

“Satoru, what is this?”

You look at him and find him staring at the ring. He swallows and lets his shoulders drop.

“Your ring,” he tells you softly. “It’s not much, but I thought you’d like it. I know I probably should’ve asked you about it—I read that’s what you’re supposed to do because girls can get really particular about their rings—but I saw that one and I knew I had to get it. It just felt right.”

Your mouth goes dry as you look back at the box you’re holding. “You bought me a ring?”

“I would’ve bought you a hundred if that’s what you wanted.”

You gape at him. “You bought me a ring.”

He looks at you, eyes all soft and gentle. “That’s what you’re supposed to do before you get married, right?”

“Satoru, why…” You can’t seem to find the right words. Your mind has drawn a complete blank.

“I know you don’t believe me, and you have every right to feel that way, but I really did love you,” he says. “I still do if I’m being honest.”

You don’t know what to think right now. You don’t know what to do. All you know is that there’s a ring in your hand and an ache in your chest and the boy who you’d always believed to be the love of your life sitting right beside you.

“You were it for me,” he tells you. “I won’t lie, I’ve loved people in the past, but not as much as I love you. What we had was real to me, it always will be.”

You stare at the box. The diamond glints in the light. “Oh.”

[l4long-winded]

Please I have to share an idea- Luca being a big tall man who is ridiculous hot but also a bit of a dork (when he was talking to that other chef 💀😭) has me absolutely feral. Maybe she has a bad previous dates and is sceptical of this handsome guy thinking he’d be an ass but he would show her how perfect boyfriend he is 😍

you meet luca through carmen. your experience with cooking staff thus far led you to believe they all had these compulsive streaks. egos and motivations that didn't signal to you they'd be the best partners. it's not out of any kind of grudge you hold towards others. however, seeing carmen's recently failed relationship and the tumultuous nature of the bear in general, your doubts aren't without valid reason.

you don't consider yourself perfect in the dating realm, either. your success with men has been... others would kindly describe it as unlucky, but you would describe it as embarrassing. dates that go on too long, men who talk and talk and talk, who don't allow you a word in, who expect you to pay and put out in the same night. you're fine paying for your meals, fine even being the listener of a relationship, but it's ridiculous how much you're willing to let slide in your standards, only for these men consecutively failing to meet the bare minimum.

you're on a break from dating when you're introduced to luca. his warm hand lingers, but not for too long, when it sits in yours. his smile is charming, the nod of his head polite as he asks you about your background, small talk easily engaged in because you're not immune to the lull of his cyan eyes, the soft thrum of his accent, and how he spends extra time at your side rather than the other more important people floating about. you share contact details at the end of the night, reluctant to leave, but your responsibilities are calling.

it surprises you when luca winds up calling you two days later (he had to give it a day, at least). your first date in over a year gets planned over that call. you hesitate for it as his voice carries through the line. it would fucking suck if you fell out with someone like this, but the temptation builds far too much, and your curiosity for more gets the better of you. he's tall. he's handsome. he's respectful. you feel like you'd be stupid not to accept his invitation.

he exceeds your expectations. in typical fashion, he takes you to a restaurant a normal person would take months to gain a reservation at, marveling over how lovely you look. he compliments you, greets you with a kiss to your knuckles, adjusts his coat jacket like... like...

like he's nervous.

"is it to your standard? picking up on the oak notes?" he asks shyly, his gaze on the lipstick stain on the rim of your wine glass. you have to assure him of your fondness of the flavor because he gets so close to ordering another bottle to ensure it's to your preference.

luca isn't like other men. he thoughtfully chooses his questions. there's a slight fumble in his words as he carries the conversation, but it never feels awkward. it feels easy to talk to him, and the more than you do, the more you realize how much of a dork he really is. and it's the sweetest fucking thing. it attracts you in further, the promise of another date on the horizon after he picks up the check, insists on it since he's the one who asked you on this excursion, he's the one who had the privilege of wining and dining with you, so it's his responsibility.

curiously, in the following dates you ask him on, he still doesn't allow you to pick your money up. more excuses. a gentleman through and through who opens your doors, his hand resting on the small of your back as the two of you take walks, always so genuinely invested in how your day went even if nothing really happened during it, staying and encouraging you to talk about your emotions when you're overwhelmed without pressuring you, cooking you dinner, and wanting you to be the first to taste desserts he's experimenting with.

he's a steady guidance. he yaps and yaps when the right topic is at hand, muttering soft apologies when he's gone on longer than twenty minutes speaking on a chef you don't know and will probably never meet. but you care too much to be bothered. you like how his eyes light up. you like how his hands move when he speaks. you like how luca is imperfect, aware of it, but he's yours. he's a walking contradiction, but purely boyfriend material, and you are so glad you gave him the chance. all those unlucky dates of the past no longer matter.

they carved the path to luca, and you're grateful for it every day.

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

Not to come off as nitpicking but why can’t Feyre be a high lady? It’s not as if tamlim or Beron are any better and theyre centuries older than feyre. I get everything but I love feyre

Hi anon!!

You don’t come off nitpicky at all! Thanks for the comment!****

[long post - more under the cut - disclaimer at the bottom]

First — I agree with you. There’s no moral reason I can think of that rules out why Feyre can’t be High Lady; so, I agree with it. I’m going to go a step further and say it’s fine that Rhysand makes Feyre High Lady of the Night Court. Obviously, Feyre will learn and ease herself into the role.

Do I think Feyre should be a High Lady? No — but I think that’s because, as I mentioned in a previous post, I’ve always felt that Feyre chafes in structured, heavily-ruled settings and has been characterized heavily as a character whose strength comes from an admonishment of rules and expectations (In my opinion, based in the text ofc).

I also think that the story doesn’t lead with reasons why Feyre specifically should be High Lady. If we go with the logic that Feyre is an inexperienced young-girl who needs to learn how to lead then we acknowledge two things: (1) that Feyre has to learn and (2) Rhysand made Feyre High Lady. That way, the expectation is that Feyre does not know anything but will learn. Traditionally, women have consolidated power by marrying into it; its quite normal for women to be “the queen” because they married into power. If anything – I think it simply makes no sense that there hasn’t been a High Lady in almost 15,000 years; it seems like an obvious choice. There’s also genuinely no difference between Lady of the Court and being High Lady.

The problem with the story is that it does not want to acknowledge -- or at least fully acknowledge many things. The first is that Feyre wants to be made High Lady (or - to push back against that - the story wants her to be High Lady). If Feyre wants power, she's acknowledging she has some skills to be president. But like...she simply doesn't. She has many skills - none that really align, though. I also feel comfortable saying that Feyre doesn’t even really want to be a leader, and her narration often opposes the idea that she wants to be in positions of power; I think we can argue that Feyre wants power over her own life – but that is not the same as wanting power over an entire group of people. I often feel insane because I think its actually kind of weird that the story never spends time developing Feyre as a person with skills that translate to leadership – or even ambition. Let’s think about similar characters like Jude or Dany, the story goes out of its way to establish why they want power, and the skills they have.

Dany is a strategic genius at literally fourteen years; she has to grapple with her kindness and how it can be to her detriment. She has to establish boundaries between the members of her Queensguard. She uses her wits, sensuality (though – I have words for Grrm), strategy to cement her claim to the throne; she is advised to practice her rule in Essos. It’s not just the fact that Dany has a claim to the Iron Throne – she’s proven she’s got the skills to be both kind and harsh; political and strategic, wrathful and powerful. Dany is not a fighter – she is a queen. She’s calling the shots and she’s still kind. Jude is shown the horrors of Faerie very early on in the story – and that anecdote at the beginning of the story essentially informs the story.

And like Dany, Jude has to learn to balance kindness with politics; she learns early on that her kindness, while altruistic, can operate as (1) selfishness and (2) can ultimately amount to nothing. It’s not saying that these characters aren’t kind, or evil, but that they learn, to some extent, how to navigate these worlds by themselves. The story is not arguing that these girls are good and kind and therefore “worthy” to be made the leader; these stories are also not concerned with needing to moralize why the female leads are more deserving – we can just see that they have qualities that will translate well into leadership. So (at least in Dany’s case), when they make a mistake, we can actually think and discuss the validity of what makes it a good / bad action. We’re not just running with the fact that “well Dany is a girl and abused!” but rather “what can Dany do to improve and not make these mistakes again” – Dany herself literally always weighs her past experiences with new ones to avoid mistakes that can detrimental to her campaign. We know Dany has the skills.

Every time we question the validity of Feyre’s actions were often met with that initial argument, which is, that Feyre is essentially “just a girl” and “under duress” and “traumatized.” But they also don’t want to admit that Feyre doesn’t have a lot of the skills necessary to be leading the court, which is true (and not even a criticism, but literally a fact). It’s a fact that Rhysand made Feyre High Lady because she was his mate – which isn’t a negative and literally how nobility has kind of traditionally operated under in the past. Even Feyre going UTM says nothing about her skills as a leader. It's always bothered me that people use the fact that Feyre goes UTM to prove that she deserves be High Lady. It's just...she didn't go down there to save Prythian; as a matter a fact, Feyre only goes UTM because she realizes she royally fucked Clare Beddor - she goes there out of guilt. Once she gets down there, she has no choice but to complete those tasks because of the bargain. That matters. It really does. I also think this logic – someone like Nesta would also be qualified to lead the NC. It's why I think people get testy with the whole 'who would be a better high lady' or whatever. Because the way the book sets it up, everyone, including Feyre sisters are all equally if not more qualified for the role. I'd argue, Nesta has even stronger claim to a leadership. To be clear I am not arguing that Nesta should be HL or would make a good; only that the story provides more concrete examples of why she could be HL than it does its own main character, and by the end of Nesta's book she's clearly the stronger character (*cough* which is why I argue SJM obsession with Rhys comes at the detriment of feyre's character!) - and there are more concrete, intentional moments where Nesta shows skills that are actually relevant.

Again it proves that Feyre can be brave, but naught else. I really thought MAF was going to actually delve into the idea that Feyre feels like a fraud because of she really only went down there for Tamlin and to try to rectify her mistakes – and she ends up in this position of power that she seems super uncomfortable with. Similar to Katniss’s ordeal in The Hunger Games. Like – we don’t even kno the names of the two Fae she killed. The story decides that not deal with it. Feyre literally says something along the lines of “its not so bad I killed those not bad because at least everyone else was freed” – but the whole point should have been that she realizes that she’s not just sacrificing her own body for Tamlin, she’s taking someone’s life for the chance to be with Tamlin. Because she loves him. That should have challenged Feyre’s morals, earnestly. There should be a deep dive to what that means. We know that Prythian becomes free – but y’all that was the afterthought. Feyre deadass only asked for Tamlin’s curse to be lifted. She didn’t even consider the people when she made the bargain and if SJM (or Amarantha) were smart enough she would’ve picked up on it all.

The story essentially bastardizes why Feyre decides to go UTM. Feyre doesn’t learn anything; she doesn’t learn how to read because she realizes It almost kills her, she doesn’t stop making weird, impulsive bargains, she doesn’t learn how to navigate politics, or listen for hints of information when Tamlin says no to her – nothing informs her actions, she doesn’t learn new skills in her arsenal – things just always go well for her. Feyre isn’t diplomatic – at the High Lord meeting she literally attacks another High Lord, she doesn’t show any prowess with Keir, doesn’t do things her own way and decides to defer to “the way its always been”

I’m not talking about how moral it is for Feyre to be able to do something.  I’m saying that Feyre never has to learn skills to handle adversity; when she doesn’t get her way the story throws temper tantrum for her. Beron said something mean so Feyre had to attack him – what does that prove? She essentially insults all of the High Lords, doesn’t make amends with Summer or Spring – and the story just expects them to follow her because….shes just a girl. And they do – for no other reason then the fact that Feyre is Feyre. And because there’s no emphasis on her actual skills, when we ask “what makes Feyre deserve to be High Lady’ – we get a frustrated response that says “well – she’s new at the job! She’ll learn!” but like…she never does. And again, what qualified her to be there in the first place If she supposedly still doesn’t have the skills. What moment informs this idea?

So, to stop my rambling, I agree that Feyre should be HL, but I also believe the story should develop her character's actual skillset instead always relying on bastardized generalizations of plot points that the story uses to basically argue that Feyre "deserves" the title without ever giving any skills to actually fall back on. the difference between , then Tamlin and Beron (maybe - we don't know) is that they inherited power, Feyre wants to lead. She wants to be High Lady. She isn't burdened with the responsibility she wants in (or story wants in). That means she should have skills to reflect that want.

***[two things I should note: (1) I was already writing a post that touches on some of the things I've discussed - so there's a lot of universal 'y'all/they/them thrown around - but I am not talking about you nonny; its toward the middle and end (2) this is a longer post bc I combined some of things I already wrote a couple months back! I really appreciate your comment and kindness]

[multifandomimagines]

All I Want for Christmas - A Steve Harrington Imagine

Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 3410

Summary: The annual Christmas-themed Hawkins Middle School dance is fast approaching, but while they should be volunteering, Steve and the Reader spend their time with each other instead.

Warnings: Slight swearing, suggestive ending + angst - topics surrounding a previous breakup, as well as a mention of a bad relationship with parents.

Written by: Jasper

A/N: we’re back!!! we missed you guys SO much. i absolutely LOVED writing for steve and stranger things! our requests are always open, so if you love this as much as i loved writing it (as well as any of our other posts), please please please check out our requests post and send over your requests! merry christmas and happy holidays! <3

p.s. peep our new feature that we’ll sometimes be adding to our works! listen after or while you’re reading for the full experience 👀 ⤵️

Soundtrack: ‘Snow On The Beach’ by Taylor Swift ft. Lana Del Rey 🌨️

Disclaimer: GIF isn’t ours - credit to whoever it belongs to.

Snow Ball, 1984.

Given everything that happened a month ago, Y/N should have felt elated to go and help out at the school dance; to act like everything was okay just for a night, to feel normal again, but she surprisingly felt quite the opposite. She begged and pleaded, more than she ever had in her whole life, to just stay home, but her mother refused with a swift, “You’ll regret it when you’re older.”

“She’s making me go,” Y/N whispered over the phone, peering around the corner to make sure her mother wasn’t eavesdropping from the living room.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Steve Harrington’s voice came through the ear speaker. Her and the once snobby rich boy formed an unusual bond after last month’s troubling events. Going through something as traumatic as that certainly ties you to someone for life, and she guessed that was what ultimately made them become the best of friends so quickly. They came to each other for everything since then, and she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t formed a crush on him that first night… But he was just out of a heart-wrenching breakup, so she (as hard as it may be) kept quiet as to not make him feel uncomfortable or ruin their budding friendship, which meant so much to her already. “I guess it could be kind of nice for you…”

“Jesus Christ, not you too—” she rolled her eyes, aggressively leaning into the wall.

“I’m just saying,” his voice was muffled through the phone, seemingly because he put it between his ear and shoulder. “you haven’t been the same since… everything…”

“Of course I haven’t, Steve… Who would?” Y/N answered, frustration and impatience apparent in her voice. He stayed quiet, prompting her to remember all the times he has acted as if nothing had ever even happened, “Well, not everyone can be Mr. Perfect Steve Harrington who-ignores-all-his-problems.”

“I think we’ve established that no one thinks I’m Mr. Perfect,” he chuckled insincerely, hinting at what had happened between him and Nancy Wheeler a month prior. The two had gone through a rather nasty breakup— the boy was devastated, seemingly never quite moving on. The girl, however, moving on not even a couple days later, contributing greatly to Steve’s heartbreak.

I do, Y/N so desperately wanted to say, but instead she kept quiet, an awkward silence falling over the two them.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what,” Steve said, cutting through the quiet tension. “I’m taking Dustin to the dance— why don’t I come around, pick you up too, you can make yourself look all pretty or whatever, and then you can sorta lie to your mom; act like you’re going to the dance, but in reality, you’re just hanging out with me.”

“Are you asking me to the dance, Harrington?” Y/N laughed, trying to make Steve flustered. “And did you just call me pretty?”

“Technically, I’m asking you to ditch the dance and hangout with me instead,” he replied, making no mention of the pretty comment.

After a moment of thinking, “Fine. But you have to stay in the car, I don’t need my parents asking you any weird questions— we all know you’re awful at lying.”

“Deal.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

The night of the Snow Ball fast approached, and before Y/N knew it, the night had arrived. For hours beforehand, she had hastily gotten ready, trying to make herself look absolutely perfect. She wasn’t exactly certain why— sure, she had a crush on Steve and she would have made herself look nice for him anyways, but she wasn’t attending the dance, so was it really necessary to make herself so dance-ready? Picking out shoes that would be perfect for dancing, even picking out a flowy dress perfect for dancing?

“Y/N! Your date is here!” the girl’s mother called from the living room. “Is that really what he’s wearing to the dance?!”

“For the last time, Mom, he’s not technically my date…” Y/N answered, hurriedly rushing past her unbothered father sitting in his recliner, grabbing her bag off the coat hanger and opening the door. “Also it’s 1984, don’t judge other people’s attire. Bye, love you!”

“Is he not coming to meet us?—” was the last thing she heard before abruptly closing the door behind her, practically running to Steve’s car in the process.

She jumped in the backseat, “Step on it— Oh, hey, Dustin! I almost didn’t recognize you.”

The younger boy sat in the passenger, looking small in comparison to the older boy in the driver’s seat. His outfit was the epitome of the 1980s, puffy hair, bow tie and all. She wondered briefly if Steve had helped him get ready or if Dustin had done this all on his own. She looked over to Steve as Dustin greeted her, her attentiveness dying out instantly, no longer hearing a word the younger boy was saying.

Steve’s eyes were on her, and by the looks of it, they seemed to have been on her. The air between them suddenly felt on edge like never before— the way he looked at her made her heart hammer faster and faster against her ribcage; so loud that there was surely no way the other two couldn’t have heard it. His eyes sparkled in the dimming light as he took deep breaths, clearly mesmerized— well, until Dustin’s growing voice and finger snapping cut through the tension, “HELLO?! You two are going to make me late! Stare at each other later, it’s already getting dark!”

Steve pulled himself together first, slapping Dustin playfully on the arm, “We weren’t staring, smartass. OKAY, OKAY! I’m driving! Jesus Christ, you’re such a—”

But Y/N never really pulled herself together. The whole car ride to the dance was a blur, she didn’t even truly hear what the other two were saying. All she could focus on was the memory of his eyes on her, the look on his face, and the way she absolutely melted underneath his gaze. She was oddly quiet the rest of the ride, and Steve noticed— his eyes frequently shifting to the rearview mirror above him to glimpse back at her.

Quickly, she realized that the Hawkins Middle School building was emerging ahead of them; street lights and traffic finally snapping her out of her trance. Sitting up straight and leaning forward, she rested her forearms on the center console as Steve pulled the car around front, directly adjacent of the entrance doors. People streamed into the building in mostly pairs, all dressed head to toe in formal attire.

“All right, buddy, here we are…” Steve’s voice cut through the silence. Both him and Dustin looked to the doors, Dustin’s lingering on them a bit longer than Steve’s. “So, remember, once you get in there…”

Dustin looked back to Steve, nervousness somewhat apparent on his face. “Pretend like I don’t care.”

“You don’t care,”

“I don’t care.”

“There you go. You’re learning, my friend. You’re learning.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ— are you actually teaching him that?!” Y/N scoffed in disbelief, interrupting the other two’s somewhat heartfelt conversation, laughter choking out from her throat.

“What do you know?” Steve replied, turning around in his seat to directly look at her for the first time since the start of the journey. His brazen gaze softened the moment his eyes landed on hers.

“I know that acting like you don’t care makes you look like an asshole—”

Dustin reached for the rearview mirror as the older two playfully argued (which was such a common occurrence at this point, to which everyone else just simply ignored) and snapping it rather hastily in his direction.

Steve looked back at the sudden noise, “Hey—”

“What?” Dustin replied, still glancing anxiously at himself in the mirror above him.

Steve grabbed the mirror from Dustin, pulling it back into his direction, “Come on, you look great, okay? You look— you look great.”

Dustin assured Steve that he was hearing what he was saying, but it seemed more like assurance to himself than anyone else. He more or less looked like he was about to cry— he looked frightened, almost as if he wished he could just stay in the car forever and never have to step foot through those daunting doors.

“Dustin, take it from a girl, okay?” Y/N said, reassuring the terrified younger boy. Steve smiled to himself. “You genuinely look amazing. How about you save me a dance for when we pick you up later, yeah?”

Dustin nodded, signifying he was listening despite him looking to the floor.

“Okay, you’re gonna go in there…” Steve said.

“Yeah…”

“Look like a million bucks—”

“Yeah,”

“And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.”

“Like a lion,” Dustin replied, a newfound confidence in his voice. Suddenly, his mouth opened and a purring noise came out, issuing both Y/N and Steve to nervously glance at each other.

“Yeah… don’t do that, okay?” Steve said as Dustin stared back at him, doe-eyed.

“Okay,”

Steve reached out a loving hand to him, “Good luck.”

Dustin took it, a slight smile on his face. He nodded, turned, then exited the car. Both Steve and Y/N watched as Dustin walked into the building hesitantly, but more confidently as he started to speak to someone that Y/N couldn’t see. Then, awkward silence washed over them as they both watched through the doors, neither of them saying a single word to another.

She looked to Steve out of her peripheral, realizing that he had spotted something, a relatively distressed look apparent on his face, unalike the smile he had merely moments before.

“Steve?” she said gently, worrying what she would see if she put herself at his level. “You okay?”

After he didn’t answer, she leaned forward, eyes instantly falling on Nancy Wheeler. She looked absolutely beautiful, talking and laughing with attendees as they came to her for a cup of punch. Steve visibly didn’t know that Nancy was volunteering tonight— the thought of going from knowing everything about someone, to knowing nothing, appeared to hurt him greatly. She was happy, which must have pained Steve even more— he hadn’t seemed genuinely happy himself in so long. But knowing Steve, Y/N knew that it was bittersweet to him— he was happy that Nancy was happy, and to him, that’s all that really, truly mattered.

Turning away, hiding the pang of jealousy and hurt that she felt by this, Y/N acted as if she hadn’t seen what he was looking at. Instead, she hopped up into the passenger seat next to him, minding her dress, and looked over at him. She was now unknowingly blocking his view of Nancy, yet he didn’t really mind it. Honestly… he grew to like it better this way.

Y/N was always there for him; she was there through the thick of last month, saving his ass that night more than he cared to admit. She was there through the aftermath of the breakup; all the times he tried to hide his tears from her in fear that she would make fun of him, yet she never did. She’d even let him stay over on nights that his parents made him so furious he couldn’t even be in the same house as them. She was there through it all, yet Nancy hardly did the same. Y/N was better for him, and he was finally starting to realize it.

“You okay?” the girl asked again sincerely, her eyes glistening in the low light as she watched him closely.

The boy exhaled and looked away, shook his head, more so to himself than her, and shifted his gear from parked to driving, “For the first time in awhile, I’m okay.”

He drove around the side of the school and parked. The parking lot was now deserted of other people despite the amount of vehicles that resided in spots, their owners clearly dancing the night away inside the building, abandoned until hours later.

The two of them exited the car, walking around and taking a seat on the back. That seemed to be one of the things they did these days; parking off somewhere and sitting on the hood or trunk and having deep conversations. Y/N cherished those perfect moments, she was sure she cherished them a bit more than Steve did considering her feelings, but nonetheless, she was sure he adored them too, even if not the same way she did.

“You sure you’re okay? You looked pretty… blindsided back there—” Y/N hesitantly said, shifting her position to look at him. She feared he would be upset with her for bringing it up again. She braced for a sarcastic remark… but none ever came.

He looked back up, his dark hair falling over his forehead in pieces. He looked so innocently back at her, no sign of hurt or annoyance at her question. His voice was gentle, “More than okay.”

She chuckled, “Well, that’s a start. Why the change of heart?”

“You, actually.” He replied, his voice soft, unlike she’s ever heard it before. “It’s always been you.”

Her breathing shallowed, her heart beginning to palpitate. Was he meaning what she thought he was? Or was she simply looking too far into it? “I don’t understand—”

“You know,” he begin. “I can’t remember the last time Nancy asked me if I was okay, or simply cared if I was, if I’m being honest.”

Y/N simply sat and listened, not daring to say a single word or make him lose his train of thought.

“It was always me asking her if she was okay, always only caring about her and her well-being. I lost sight of myself and how I was doing, all just to make her happy… but I never got it in return.” he continued, looking out at the empty parking lot, remembering memories that he was trying so hard the past few weeks to forget. “I mean, I don’t blame her. She’s always had her own shit going on. I don’t know— I guess what I’m trying to say is… it’s been nice having someone care about me for once. You know, ask how I’m doing and all that shit. Maybe all this time I’ve just been focusing on someone who never really wanted me in the first place, while someone who’s been there for me since day one was getting the short end of the stick.”

“Steve—” Y/N began to say, the words dying out in her throat. Her comforting hand came to rest atop his beside them, their fingers slightly intertwining. Her eyes scanned his face, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret. Yet, there was none…

“You’re beautiful,” Steve spoke delicately, looking up from their embracing hands to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

“We still have time.” she smiled, squeezing his hand a bit tighter. She dreamt of this moment for so long, yet when it finally came, she felt as if she couldn’t speak properly; all the words she imagined saying to him died out in her throat the moment it was finally happening. It wasn’t just a dream this time— it was real life.

“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ, I haven’t even asked how you feel—” he backtracked, shaking his head, frustrated with himself. “I just assumed—”

“Are you kidding, Steve?” Y/N replied as he looked to her nervously. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He smiled, relief washing over his face in waves. This was atypical for Steve Harrington— not only the anxiousness he exuded in those few moments, but also the way he poured his entire heart out. Y/N was sure he must have done it with Nancy; he’d even done it with other topics to Y/N, but never in this way. Never so vulnerable— she figured that was the perfect word to describe it: Vulnerable.

Steve had changed so much over the past month. He was broken and bruised (even quite literally at one point), so much that it changed him. He was worried that Y/N didn’t feel the same— he had always just assumed Nancy did, but that didn’t turn out well for him now, did it? No, he needed to be absolutely sure this time.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Steve asked, glancing back at her hand atop his. “I can’t go through it again…”

Her lips met his, gently but urgently, washing away all of the doubts and insecurities swirling around in his head. In that moment, he forgot about Nancy wholeheartedly, forgot about every bad thing that had ever happened to him, even forgetting how him and Y/N got to this point. The only thing that mattered was the destination; her lips were soft moving against his, her hands caressing his skin in innocent places that she’d never touched him before.

Steve’s fingers came up to lace through her hair delicately, pulling her closer than ever. He ached to feel her nearer to him, to embrace her wholly, after so long of not knowing what that felt like.

He pulled away first, cold air replacing the heat of where his lips were mere seconds previously. Her senses on high alert, Y/N realized the music from inside the building could be faintly heard, interrupting the quiet of the dark, abandoned lot. Every Breath You Take was vaguely audible, the vibe of the dance changing drastically. She imagined the dance attendees slow dancing with another, taking the opportunity to kiss and be close to each other.

Steve jumped off the back of the car, held out a hand to her and said, “You didn’t think I’d let you come to a dance without making you dance with me, did you?”

She chuckled, smiling to herself, happiness overtaking her for the first time in awhile, “Not letting Dustin get the first dance with me, huh?”

“Never in a million years,” Steve joked. “you’re mine now.”

“I could get used to that…” Y/N flirted, taking his outstretched hand in hers.

The two found themselves embracing, slow dancing, spinning, playfully joking, until it got comfortably quiet between them. They basked in each other’s presence, feeling happier than they’ve felt in a long while. It was hard to imagine this any other way— it felt as if it had been this way between them forever.

She rested her head atop his shoulder, pulling him close and wrapping her arms around him. They both shut their eyes, the comfortable silence giving way to the song faintly coming to an end inside of the school. The moment felt bittersweet— both of them wishing it could last forever.

After a long pause, Y/N opened her eyes first, noticing that the scenery had slightly changed around them. A thin white sheet covered the ground and the cars residing in their respective spots, white flakes falling gently out of the sky.

“Steve—” she spoke, lightly backing out from his embrace. She glanced around them, “It’s snowing.”

He opened his eyes, both of them immediately landing on her, not bothering to even look out at the snow. As cheesy as it sounded in his head, she was more beautiful than anything nature could possibly do, and he didn’t want to miss her most of all.

He tucked a snow covered strand of hair out of her face, making her look to him. A smile formed on her mouth as his lips met hers for a second time, snow falling all around them like minuscule, twinkling stars.

“Hey…” Steve whispered, lips resting against Y/N’s. “How about we go back to my place? Pick Dustin up in a couple hours, yeah?”

“Mhm,” she replied, grinning, finally opening her eyes to meet his once again. “hey, wait— what happened to acting like you don’t care?”

Steve, remembering the advice he had just given Dustin less than a half an hour before, snickered, “Yeah, well, that was minutes ago— I’m a changed man now.”

She laughed, making a face at him as they got back into his car. They drove off to his house as Christmas music played vaguely over the radio, hands tenderly held near the stick shift, stealing glances at each other on well-lit streets.

As it turned out, her mother had been right in someway all along; Y/N would have regretted this night for the rest of her life if she hadn’t gone. As much as she hated to admit it, school dances, or lack thereof, turned out to not be so bad after all.

[sharpen-your-hatchet]

Old Wounds - Wenclair fanfic, chapter 26

Description: Now aged 22, Wednesday Addams is an up-and-coming author. Her time at Nevermore is well behind her, and she is alone, and that suits her just fine...But when a 'new' neighbour shows up in her apartment building, she'll truly be tested on whether her "bad habit" of caring truly has been broken. (Hint: It hasn't.)  

Pairing: Wednesday Addams / Enid Sinclair

Rating: Mature (Fic is fully SFW up to Chapter 20)

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x-x-x-x-x-x

In a surprising turn of events, Wednesday and Enid’s Saturday evening is remarkably unremarkable.

Between the completely normal and delicious evening meal (served with a generous helping of wine, naturally), a competitive yet shockingly civilised few rounds of card games, before finishing with a few lessons in – completely standard, non-poison related - mixology from Morticia, an outsider looking into the Addams’ grandiose gothic home would perhaps be swayed into believing they were watching a completely average family.

This atmosphere sits uncannily with Wednesday through the whole night. She eyes her mother warily, expecting a comment, an implication; an ‘accidental’ enjoyably morbid something-or-other … but no, there is nothing but best behaviour, and innocent smiles where knowing glances would usually be exchanged.

It is jarring and unnatural.

Late becomes even later, and Morticia eventually bids them goodnight without so much as a deliberate glare or mischievous tone to her voice. Just a wish of sweet dreams for Enid, and nightmares for Wednesday. She then disappears upstairs with her usual graceful saunter… and just like that, their evening together comes to an end.

Anti-climactic does not even begin to describe it.

With their privacy now returned to them, Wednesday and Enid find themselves at a loss.

It feels as though there is something afoot. It taunts Wednesday’s mind ceaselessly. Enid is cautiously optimistic, guessing that Morticia perhaps saw error in her ways and simply aimed to make the evening quietly pleasant. Wednesday is not so easily convinced. However, aside from how abnormally “normal” her mother was, there is little to actually ruminate on. Wednesday has half a mind to follow her mother upstairs but she is dissuaded by Enid. Her pursuit of knowledge concerning her mother’s behaviour will simply have to wait.

Wednesday and Enid consequently spend the rest of the evening together alone – Which is not a terrible thing, by any stretch of the imagination.

And when Wednesday awakes the next morning, staring into the swirled plaster of the ceiling, with Enid curled up beside her, she takes some time to consider – once again – the confusing events from the night before… and thinks to the curious and strange day that must surely lay ahead of her.

But… the day isn’t strange. Nor is it curious. Not in an Addam’s way, at least.

And that – in itself – is strange and curious.

In fact, the morning passes without so much of a phrase or glance out of place. Morticia is kind, witty, but intentionally vague and somewhat distant. She seems...distracted? It only makes Wednesday more inquisitive; more intent on figuring out this puzzle.

They all have breakfast, walk the grounds of the house to feed the various wild beasts that roam the woodlands, and to forage for ingredients for Morticia’s arcane spells, before returning to the house for a midday meal and tea. Enid and Morticia do, in fact, paint each other's nails - much to Wednesday’s chagrin…even though she will concede that her lack of participation in favour of reading is beneficial on the grounds of her social battery.

Everything seems too good; too nice. It’s too simple.

It’s only as it dips into a gloomy afternoon that Morticia seems to perk up a little. The dark light that usually shimmers in her eyes makes a slight return just as rain begins to rattle gently against the windows. Though, she remains unexpectedly muted in demeanour… However, seeing as this is the closest she’s been to her regular self, it is seemingly the closest thing to an opportune moment Wednesday is going to be offered if she wishes to investigate.

And so with a subtle nod from Enid (who is now painting Thing’s nails), Wednesday slips away and corners her mother in one of the many hallways as she makes her return from the bathroom.

Although, ‘corners’ would be a forgiving use of the word. Without a pair of platform shoes to help her out, Morticia towers over Wednesday in a way that most would find intimidating… But Wednesday would never stoop to fealty on the basis of her height; not with her mother, certainly.

Her mother looks down at her with a questioning look.

“Wednesday…” She greets quietly. “What is it, little viper?”

Wednesday squints at her mother. She doesn’t buy the innocence that’s being offered.

“Cut the act. You’re acting strange… and not in our particular way.”

Morticia smooths down her dress, before tightly clasping her hands together. Pulling her lips into a tight smile, she gives a small, absent shake of her head. Whatever kind of performance she is putting on, it’s certainly one she’s invested a lot of thought into. Most would be convinced.

Most people are not Wednesday.

“It is nothing for you to worry about, darling. I’m just missing your father.” Morticia states. She attempts to shuffle past, but is stopped by Wednesday side-stepping to block her path.

“That is expected.” Wednesday replies flatly. Truly, it is. Her mother and father are rarely apart, if ever - so a desperate wave of separation anxiety is unsurprising behaviour… but, it would not manifest in this way. Wednesday knows this from experience. Her mother is usually much more sickly when her father is absent; dramatic, claiming physical ailments from the lack of her husband’s presence. It is most perturbing... But no, this behaviour is something else. Wednesday cannot be convinced otherwise. “But I am not a fool, and you are usually not a liar.”

Morticia looks aghast at the accusation. Her eyes widening, a measure of quiet shame fills her expression and her forced composure crumbles for just a second. She catches herself though, pulling herself back to form with a tight breath in. It’s uncanny how easily the mask seems to slip back on. Just like Wednesday herself, Morticia is not keen to let anyone catch her off-guard. She takes a step back from Wednesday.

“I have not lied to you, my dear.” Morticia says.

“But you have not told the truth.”

Morticia sighs. She pinches the bridge of her nose.

Wednesday stares at her mother intently. She is fortunate, in a sense, that she knows her mother expects this level of persistence from her. It means she feels unabashed in her pursuit; unrelenting in her desire for answers. Her mother should know better than to try and hide things from her.

“Why are you acting like this, mother?” Wednesday asks. Her voice is stern; demanding.

Morticia raises her hands in defeat. She concedes with a wary look in her eye, and a warning carried on her tongue.

“Because, Wednesday, I had a vision and I have been trying to alter the course it showed me.”

Wednesday scowls. She blinks a few times, confused.

That doesn’t make sense… Visions are simply a vague glimpse into the future’s path – and the path is certainly set in stone. There is no altering; no diversions. Why would her mother think herself separate from what awaits during those moments of insight?

Then, there’s a pang of something that hits Wednesday’s stomach. Like dread, but quieter. Ominous foresight, perhaps?

She looks back up at her mother with a questioning gaze.

“What do you mean?”

Morticia purses her lips slightly as she mulls over her words for a moment. She sighs again.

“My vision… it showed you finally having a new vision. A wonderful thing, you would think, being that my visions are rooted in positivity. But your visions-”

“- Are generally negative.” Wednesday finishes.

“Yes, and the timing seemed particularly poor, what with you being here and all… I thought that if I, perhaps, changed my actions, my way of interacting with the world that it may have some effect; delay your vision, so to speak.”

Wednesday nods slowly, now understanding her mother’s flawed logic. It is ridiculous, of course. A plan such as this will not and never would have worked...but her mother is nothing if caring - and cautious when it comes to certain things. Wednesday’s visions have always been fickle and consuming, but it has been a long time since they last surfaced. Perhaps her mother wishes for this dry spell to continue; to give Wednesday freedom from any threat that she does not willingly choose to participate in. It would make sense. Even so, Wednesday finds it demeaning her mother would neglect to speak on what she saw.

In truth, Wednesday is actually not keen to be thrown off her feet by the strangling sensation of the universe inviting itself into her brain, but she will admit she somewhat yearns for those dangerous peeks behind the curtain. It should be her choice whether she tries to avoid them or not.

“Why delay the inevitable? My visions must return at some point.”

Morticia eyes Wednesday gravely. She brings her hands to Wednesday’s shoulders, lightly hovering them above the fabric of the dark sweater Wednesday wears.

“Your visions are a subject of pride, but there are times they have struck fear into my blackened heart. I’m afraid that fear may have been leading me.”

Wednesday quirks an eyebrow. As much as this behaviour is distasteful, she lacks motivation to draw out any suffering from her mother’s actions, even if they are a grave misstep. Wednesday will concede privately that she understands the concern over poor timing, safety, etc. – though arguably, her visions have never had “good timing” in the first place, nor promised safety, so it is somewhat of a null argument… In any case, chastising her mother just isn’t as fun as it is with strangers or overly familiar acquittances. But she will still say something, just on principle. Just to make sure her disapproval is known.

“You should know better.” Wednesday chides. “I am an adult, mother. You do not need to protect me.”

Morticia swallows her pride, bowing her head slightly.

“I apologise.”

Wednesday offers her mother a deadly glare.

“All is forgiven, but do not attempt such a thing again.” She says sternly. With that, Wednesday then quickly turns on her heel and proceeds back to the living room. Behind her, she hears a soft rustle of fabric as her mother seemingly walks away in the opposite direction.

Wednesday mulls over what she has learned as she re-approaches Enid. A measure of concern sits in her stomach at the question of what this upcoming vision may show her. The potential is great; the potential threat even greater… It is certainly a mystery. Not ideal, really, but it is undeniable and something Wednesday is adamant to not run from. It would be easier if she knew the trigger, but it will unfortunately elude her until the moment strikes. Which is most inconvenient.

Enid and Thing greet Wednesday warmly as she rejoins them. Wednesday sits by Enid’s side, her confrontational gaze softening at Enid’s inquisitive smile.

Enid leans closer and presses a small, chaste kiss to Wednesday’s cheek.

“You get your answers?” Enid asks quietly.

Wednesday nods. She basks for a second in the bubble of privacy Enid has created.

“I did” She replies, her voice similarly low. “My mother’s behaviour was a futile attempt to protect me from my own visions… but it is all resolved now.”

“Oh, weird.” Enid says with a slight frown. She goes to continue her sentence, but snaps her mouth shut as Morticia makes an unexpected return, clutching a bundle of rope and some knives. Both Enid and Wednesday snap their attention to Morticia, who offers them a devious smile. Evidently, she is opting to move onwards and upwards as opposed to making herself scarce. A respectable move. Although, Wednesday would’ve preferred another moment alone.

Enid shoots Wednesday a subtle concerned look.

“I thought it might bring you joy to set a trap for Pugsley.” Morticia offers as explanation. She twiddles one of the knives between her thumb and forefinger. “Our last few activities have been decidedly censored. So perhaps it is time you create some real fun, hm?”

Well, now… this is interesting. Wednesday eyes the rope and the knives with intrigue, feeling the corners of her mouth twitching upwards ever so slightly at the macabre ideas filling her head. It is a devilishly clever move on her mother’s behalf – swinging the pendulum of overcompensation in the complete opposite direction; this time with the promise of pain and mischief. Despite the earlier err, Wednesday knows that her mother truly does understand her well. This offer may well be her equivalent of being offered cake and ice cream at a birthday party… even if the rest of the party was mind numbing, every normie grins for such a sweet treat.

.

And Wednesday sure loves setting traps for Pugsley.

If this is how her mother wishes to endear herself again, Wednesday may hold her tongue. At least for a moment.

“A tempting offer… Though I will also be needing some glass and one of those revolting processed snack cakes that Pugsley enjoys.” Wednesday says, scowling in thought. She looks to Enid, whose face now wears a mild bemusement. “Enid?”

Enid tries her best to pull her face into a supportive smile. She fidgets slightly with her hair. “You’re not planning to make something that’ll kill him, right?”

Ah yes. Brother traps are not something Enid is particularly familiar with. Morticia and Wednesday exchange glances. Fortunately, it seems Morticia is eager to qualm any misunderstanding. Wednesday is glad for it – she would struggle to explain the subtlety between a trap for murder and a trap for amusement. As long as there’s the potential for pain without excessive blood (or death), it’s all fair game… but for Enid’s sake, Wednesday would prefer a more palatable response, lest she again face that grumble of concern over Enid’s lack of compatibility with this area of her family’s interests.

“Of course not, dear.” Morticia answers. “We aim for nothing permanent. Gently maiming at the most.”

Enid looks at Thing. He makes an “Okay” sign, then a thumbs up – indicating his approval of this plan. Enid seems slightly comforted, but still somewhat hesitant.

“I think I’ll just watch and hold things for you.”

Wednesday stands and takes the various items from her mother’s hands. She turns back to Enid with a questioning look.

“You do not have to agree to this.”

“I know I don’t.” Enid replies, settling herself, giving an assured smile. She jumps up from the couch, shuffling over and reappropriating the items from Wednesday’s hands into her own. “Just ‘cause it’s not my thing doesn’t mean I can’t let you enjoy it.”

Enid then jostles the items into one hand and waggles her fingers, showing off her pink, blue, and purple nails. She adds, “Besides, I got my nails painted and you just sat there. It’s fair game, Wends.”

Wednesday stares at Enid. It is profound how easily Enid seems to jump over hills that Wednesday thought difficult to crest. She should not be surprise at Enid’s flexibility; her ability to adapt and accept things that may be strange to her, but Wednesday cannot help her quiet amazement. She eyes Enid fondly.

With a proud little smile, Enid takes Wednesday’s hand and pulls her towards the staircase; towards Pugsley’s room. It would seem the time for talking is over.

“Have fun, you two.” Morticia hums.

And have fun they do.

It’s all innocent fun, of course...well, as innocent as rigging up some knives to launch at a booby-trapped snack cake that has been also carefully decorated with glass shards just in case aforementioned trap fails can be. As designs go, Wednesday is very proud of what she has come up with.

Enid lets her work away, watching with intrigue as Wednesday nimbly crafts. Enid enquires into the history of this hobby; how it came to be, and Wednesday offers the best explanations she can whilst she continues to adjust, tweak, and fine tune her creation. Whilst this potential attempt on her brother’s life may seem backwards to anyone not in her family (not that Wednesday would care if they thought it backwards anyway), it is – in fact – a very deliberate and non-traditional way of showing the way she can make an effort. It’s a very typical Addams’ behaviour, she adds, perhaps with a slight hint of pride.

Wednesday explains to Enid that she is one of the very few exceptions to the rule when it comes to her showing positive feelings towards someone; love is a language she simply does not speak in most scenarios...but violence is a tongue she will speak any day. Thusly, if she can create intricate mechanisms, traps, etc. that require a high level of effort and then direct them at her brother? Well. It’s certainly not a typical sibling expression, but it shows she cares enough to try and maim him in increasingly ludicrous ways. There’s something in that.

That, and it’s simply fun to see how fast she can make various sharp objects fly through the air.

Enid seems puzzled somewhat at the logic, but she withholds judgement. She simply listens, and marvels at the way Wednesday seems to come alive as her brain is allowed free reign over potential chaos.

In fact, Enid gets so drawn in that she ends up shuffling over, leaning over Wednesday’s shoulder to see what she’s doing. Wednesday does not mind; she actually rather enjoys getting to explain each aspect as she adds the finishing details.

“-And if all goes well, at least one of the knives will strike.” Wednesday concludes, kneeling down as she finishes tightening one of the ropes. “If not...then the glass shards in the revolting processed snack cake is the next surprise.”

“We have very different ideas of surprises.” Enid replies with a smirk.

Wednesday flashes Enid the slightest devilish smile.

“Perhaps. Now could you just push the revolting processed snack cake slightly to the left? The trap isn’t armed yet, but it is not centred. The bait needs to be centred.”

Enid rolls her eyes playfully. She takes a few steps over to where the revolting processed snack cake ( Twinkie. It’s a twinkie.) sits on a plate on Pugsley’s bedside table. She carefully picks up the plate and inches it to the middle. She then looks at the twinkie for a moment, and in what can only be described as a moment of morbid curiosity, she touches her index finger against one of the small glass shards pointing out of it.

From behind her, Wednesday hears a small “oh no”.

Wednesday whips her head around to see Enid clutching her hand, pouting horrendously. She stands, scuttling over quickly.

“Enid? What happened?!”

“The glass.”

Wednesday frowns, her brows furrowing in concern. She takes Enid’s hand, and gently squeezes at the base of her finger to restrict the blood flow. It’s not bleeding heavily, but it’s enough to make Enid uncomfortable – visibly so. Wednesday is not good with sympathy, but she offers Enid a gentle look as she tends to her cut.

“It is small. You will be safe.” Wednesday states firmly.

Enid nods her head.

A small trail of blood begins to lead its way down Enid’s finger towards Wednesday’s hand. Wednesday doesn’t think to wipe it away and so it gently breaks and stains Wednesday’s own hand – not that she minds.

Only she isn’t able to actually think that.

Because the second Enid’s blood hits her skin, Wednesday’s head is thrown back and the world around her implodes into nothing.

The universe grabs her by the throat; leeches into her brain; leaves a future memory where nothingness once lay. She cannot parse it as it happens, but moments; words; voices echo through Wednesday’s head at a breakneck speed.

Wednesday tries to make sense of it as it happens but it is futile. There is too much – A whole realm of possibility trying to unveil itself in a matter of moments.

It is everything; yet just a flicker.

Just a tragic flash to the future.

Then nothing.

Wednesday blacks out.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Three)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?),oc and jungkook being adorable bffs, shady tae, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, mentions of sex, vaginal intercourse, hickeys, orgasms,

Notes: I actually really enjoyed writing this part! Where’s my bff for bff bubble bath? Lmaaoo. Anyway, thanks again for taking the time to read. Don’t forget to send me an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or if you just want to chat about the story!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredescarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @jkslachimolala

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous----Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You want me to what now?” your voice is unnecessarily high pitched.

“Meet my parents.” Taehyung gives you that awkward Chrissy Teigen meme smile. “Listen—I know it sounds crazy and horrifying but they’re really nice…”

“But why?”

“It’s my fault…I didn’t consider having my sister on social media…and I keep posting you and she told my parents and they’re real excited about me having a girlfriend…and I don’t want to crush them.”

You and Taehyung are seated on your living room couch, enjoying a lazy Thursday afternoon after classes. He brings his cup of water to his lips and takes some generous gulps.

“Listen, y/n I will literally pay another month’s worth of coffee…please just think about it.”

More free coffee? Fuck, that’s kind of a steal considering how expensive that shit is and you no doubt have an addiction.

“…fine…” you say hesitantly, “when?”

“Really?” Taehyung lights up like a spot light, “Well, I was thinking this weekend?”

“T-This weekend? That soon? Which day?”

Taehyung showcases a sheepish grin as he rubs the back of his neck, a habit of his no doubt.

“Like, the whole weekend.”

Your eyebrows crawl to the top of your head as you gape at him, “What do you mean?”

“Like, we would get there in time for dinner on Friday, then stay all day Saturday and leave Sunday morning before they leave for church. Unless you wanna go to church with th—”

“No, not really.” You run your fingers through your long strands, “Holy shit, okay we are doing this.” You nod to yourself, “What’s our story? You know they’re going to ask.”

“Huh? Uh…just the truth. I met you through Jungkook and we hit it off and we started dating.”

You sigh to yourself, wishing that were actually true.

“Just be yourself, y/n.” Taehyung smiles at you. You beam back at him, and his boxy smile only grows wider. “They’ll like you, it’s not that hard to…” his hand reaches for yours, your palms are a bit sweaty since you are feeling like a nervous wreck at the thought of meeting his parents.

Suddenly, the front door swings open and in comes your best friend (who is still mad at you). He walks in slowly eyeing the two of you on the sofa. He notices Taehyungs hand wrapped around yours and Taehyung quickly pulls away. Jungkook takes a look at your face, you’re lost in thought, nibbling on your bottom lip.

Jungkook is yes, still mad at you but also, since he jacked it to your face he is being a little nicer. But as much as he has tried not to have those type of thoughts of you before, it’s not like he hasn’t. So, he’s gotten good at pretending all is well.

“What’s with her?” Jungkook pries, walking closer to the sofa.

“Noth—”

“I’m meeting Tae’s parents.” You cut in to say.

Jungkook’s brows crease as he looks between you and Taehyung. He shakes his head in disbelief, stepping closer to the two of you.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jungkook mutters under his breath. “You’re going this far?” now Jungkook’s face is tilted towards Taehyung. “Why are you going this far dude?” Taehyung stands to his feet, “I—”

“No man, you’ve already dragged her into your shit and now you want her to what, meet your parents?” Jungkook’s voice rises in volume and you start to feel uneasy. Taehyung shakes his head, “Jungkook—”

“End this.” Jungkook spits out, getting in Taehyungs face. “How is this fair for her…”

You stand up too, your hand pulling him back by the shoulder. “Jungkook stop.” Your voice is unusually calm.

“I’m helping Tae out because we’re friends and also, ya know, free coffee.” Jungkook turns to face you, his teeth gritting in frustration.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.” Jungkook whispers. And with that he takes one more look at Taehyung, shakes his head in disapproval and walks off towards his room.

You and Taehyung continue to stand there in silence, you feel embarrassed because of Jungkook’s actions and ashamed you didn’t do more to stop him. Taehyung on the other hand looks completely defeated.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook I don’t know why he—”

“I should go,” Taehyung cuts you off, he gives you a weak smile before grabbing his things and heading towards the door.

“Are we still on for this weekend?” you sway from side to side, feeling as awkward as you probably look.

Taehyung doesn’t answer right away, instead he rubs the back of his neck with a frown decorating his face. Finally, he meets your eyes and offers another weak smile.

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow.” He doesn’t wait for a response as he is already walking out the door, closing it softly behind him.

You’re left alone in the living room with nothing but a cold, empty couch and your million racing thoughts. Why is Jungkook so against you and Tae? Maybe Jungkook is afraid that you’ll become so close with Tae that he thinks you’ll replace him…but you know in your heart of hearts Jungkook is irreplaceable. Why can’t Jungkook understand that? You haven’t been spending as much time with him lately and maybe that’s the problem. What can’t a drunken slumber party not solve?

You knock on his door, waiting for a ‘come in’ but it never comes. So you knock again. And again. Until finally Jungkook swings open the door with a frustrated sigh and pained look on his face.

“Look, before you scold me—”

“Actually, I had an idea.” You say quickly.

“Oh?” Jungkook’s features relax.

“It’s been a while since we’ve had one of our BFF slumber parties.” You slant your head to the side, a sly smile forming on your lips.

Jungkook stares at you for a few seconds before his eyes fill with something interesting.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “it’s been a while.”

“What do you say? Tonight? Me and you? Wine? Anime? Video games? BFF bubble bath?”

“Wow, you want the works.” Jungkook grins. “But you realize I’m still…” he takes a deep breath when he notices your worried, pleading eyes. “Step into my office and we can discuss the details.” He says, opening his door wider, inviting you inside.

His room looks clean besides the few articles of clothing scattered on the ground. He has a scented candle going and LoFi music playing lowly on his speakers. Lofi and candle? He only has that combo when he’s stressed and trying to calm down.

You take a seat on the edge of his made bed, and Jungkook follows you, also taking a seat on his bed next to you.

“14% and up only for the wine.” He states.

“Agreed. Action or horror for the anime.” You pitch in.

“Agreed. Mario Kart for the video game.”

“Agreed. Life altering secrets only for BFF Bubble Bath.”

Jungkook chews on his lips as he thinks of your request. “Okay.”

You clap your hands excitedly for tonight, your chest bubbling with happiness. This is what you and Jungkook need.

~~~~~~

Jungkook is even more excited for BFF slumber party night than you are. He’s missed you. There’s been a real disconnect with the two of you lately and thinks tonight is exactly what the two of you need. He is just coming home from buying 4 bottles of 16% wine and lots of snacks. He got the salty, the sweet and the sour. Feeling proud of his choices, he sets the groceries down and calls for you.

You walk out from the bathroom with a facemask glued to your face with another packet in your hand,

“For you, sir.”

Jungkook chuckles as he grabs the pack from your hands, “Okay, I’ll go put this on, while you pour us some wine.” He nods towards the bottles.

You happily oblige. You grab the cork screw from its designated place in the kitchen drawer and begin to open the first bottle of wine. It opens smoothly, without a hitch.

“Wow…engineering is amazing.” You whisper to yourself in awe.

“What’s amazing?” Jungkook walks into the kitchen, you take a long look at his appearance. The white facemask making him look like a ghost.

“Your face.” You chuckle, a finger going up to touch the material on his skin.

You twirl to face the kitchen cabinets and pull out two wine glasses for you and your BFF and poor a gracious amount of wine in each. You hand him the glass and you clank the glasses together in cheers.

“To us.” You chirp happily, chugging back a gulp of your drink.

Jungkook just watches as you wince at the disgusting flavor and cackles to himself before taking a sip of his own drink.

The two of you grab the bottle of wine and your glasses and make your way into the living room.

“Alright we go by the normal house rules, whichever place you get is how many seconds you chug your drink.” You explain.

“Are you talking to an imaginary audience y/n? I already know the rules.” Jungkook teases.

“I was just trying to get the competitive mood going.” You poke your tongue out, Jungkook is quick to try to grab it between his fingers.

“Ugh, you are so gross.” You groan.

“You love it.” Jungkook smiles so wide his eyes begin to disappear. “Well, let’s play!”

One thing you absolutely can’t stand but also completely adore about Jungkook is that he is a sore loser. And also an ungracious fucking winner.

“You SUCK!” Jungkook cackles obnoxiously in your face, “Like I hope you enjoy chugging for five—no, SIX seconds you mother fuckin loser.” He continues to laugh loudly much to your annoyance but a part of you feels warm that he is having so much fun. You haven’t seen him laugh like this in weeks.

“Okay I get it.” You roll your eyes so far back into your head all you see is whites.

This was the 3rd time in a row you’re getting 6th place, your vision is started to blur at the amount of alcohol you’ve chugged. But only a little, nothing you can’t handle.

“Okay y/n let’s stop now, we can watch some anime while we order some pizza?” he grins your way. “I vote Tokyo ghoul. And the rule is we drink every time Kaneki is fucking cry baby.”

“Well damn, guess we’re getting fucked up.” You declare. You and Jungkook laugh to yourselves at the thought.

The show is on, pizza has been ordered. Life is good. You sneak a glance at Jungkook as he pays attention to the show on screen. You smile when he smiles, you smile when he laughs, you smile when he pouts. Jungkook finally manages to notice you staring at him and snaps his head to you.

“What?” he asks with a toothy grin.

“Nothing…” you sing, your bright smile rivaling the light coming from the TV.

It’s been several hours, two medium pizzas have been demolished, 4 wine bottles have been drank and lots of anime has been watched. You and Jungkook sit on the sofa wrapped in blankets, neither one of you wanting to get up to turn the fan off.

“So cold.” You slur.

“Come closer.” Jungkook slurs back.

“Or we can warm up with BFF Bubble Bath?” you offer, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Jungkook zones out for a second, thinking of your request.

“Been a while since we had one of those, huh?” he finally says something.

“yeah, which is a real shame, isn’t it? I mean, we literally get into our swim suits, draw a hot bubble bath, get in sitting opposite of each other and tell each other our secrets, our hopes and dreams. Then we make a wish that the other person HAS to support and we can’t tell anyone else or else it won’t come true.” You mumble mostly to yourself.

“y/n…once again are you speaking to an imaginary audience?” he chuckles, “I know what a BFF Bubble Bath is.”

“Then hurry up and draw that bubble bath mister know it all.”

Jungkook stares at himself in the mirror, he’s got on his red swim trunks. His hair is a fucking mess, and his eyes are giving away how intoxicated he is but he’s got this dopey smile on his face that he decides is a good look on him. He looks happy. He feels happy.

You walk into the bathroom and eye your best friend. You can’t help but drop your gaze to his thighs, God, you love when he wears tight pants or shorts.

“What’s up buff guy?” you tease, grabbing a hold of his bicep.

“Shut up” Jungkook shudders from your touch. Then he takes one long look at you and he wants to faint. You’re also wearing a red swim suit, it’s one of those strapless kind. The two of you eye each other up and down, observing your matching swim suits and shoot each other some finger guns.

“hehe…well, shall we?” you say, gesturing towards the bubble filled tub.

Jungkook nods his head yes and motions for you to step in first.

The water is hotter than you are expecting, your toes wet with lava. But it’s just how you like it, you have both legs in as you begin to sink deeper into the bubbled water.

“come on in” you wave Jungkook over, he drunkenly stumbles forward until he’s wincing at the hot water that meets his skin.

“You’re really the queen of Hell if this temperature is enjoyable to you.” He deadpans.

“Why thank you, does that make you my loyal servant?”

“ha-ha.”

You and Jungkook stare at each other for a while, enjoying the drunken haze.

“So anything new going on with you?” you begin to pry.

You prying is never a good thing but you can never help yourself. His past is such a mystery to you and it drives you nuts. You’re supposed to be best friends yet he can’t even tell you about his parents without it getting real awkward. He knows all about your family history, but all you know about his is that his dad cheated the whole marriage and his mom finally left him for it—leaving Jungkook behind as well. You understand why it must be hard to talk about but...doesn’t he want to confide in you? You of all people?

“Not really.” Jungkook fingers play with the bubbles at his chest.

“Any girls? Like not just hookups but—”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Such a fucking Jungkook thing to say, it’s always ‘don’t worry about that y/n’ and never ‘let me actually tell you some real information y/n’.

“Jungkook,” you wine into the bubbles.

“Hm?”

“Don’t you have a girl you like???” and suddenly drunk y/n doesn’t want to know this answer. Would sober you?

Jungkook looks down at his wrinkling hands and doesn’t know what to say. Does he?

“No.” is the answer he settles for. And suddenly relief is washed over you.

You want to ask him the thing you are most curious about—his family. But he has said it a million times to you every time he’s asked—its ‘a touchy subject’.

“Ask about it.” He suddenly says, “I know you want to.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, yes indeed I have no clue.” You slur.

“Y/N.” he warns.

“Fine…when’s the last time you talked to your dad? I know he made mistakes…but I also know he has tried reaching out to you over and over. He calls almost every day Jungkook! Maybe he’s changed. I know your mom left because of everything and you blame your d—”

“Mom…” he begins to cut you off. You notice his eyes gloss over and you feel your heart drop. Jungkook rarely cries and rarely cries in front of anyone. Then he’s clearing his throat, “You’re right. Moms not in the picture anymore and I do blame dad.”

“I hate that your mom left you Jungkook…” you say softly. “She’s the worst for that,”

“You have no idea.” Jungkook breathes out. “Let’s change the subject, please.”

“But—”

“Please, y/n.” his eyes are pleading and you feel your heart drop again. You wonder if he will ever be ready to talk about it.

“Actually…” he awkwardly plays with the bubbles in front of his chest, “There’s something I want to say.”

“What is it?” you can’t help but feel anxious all the sudden.

Jungkook avoids your eyes as he plays with the bubbles, he takes a few deep breaths before lifting his head.

“I’m sorry.”

You tilt your head, “Sorry for what?”

“I’ve…” Jungkook scrunches his face up, contemplating what to say. “I’ve been really unfair to you. I should of never treated you this way…I don’t know what came over me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was hurt, yes, that you chose Taehyung over me but since the beginning I’ve been such an asshole. Fuck, y/n…” his voice cracks, “I’m so sorry. I just wish I could…” he pauses, shaking his head. “No, it’s nothing. I just hope you’ll be careful with Taehyung.” He shakes his head again, “Oh my god, I am so selfish.” He laughs pathetically. “I’m sorry…”

You stay quiet for several moments, you want to agree with him. Yeah it was fucked up what you did, but he wasn’t any better this whole time.

“Why were you such an asshole?” you finally ask.

“Don’t worry about it y/n.” GOD DAMN. You are tired of that response!

You scoff, “And why are you so wary of Taehyung? I don’t get it!”

“Can you just trust me? Please?”

“I’ll just trust my own judgment for now…”

“y/n…” then he is looking into your eyes more seriously, “I’m sorry.”

You bite your lip as you think about his apology. Is he sorry? By the looks of it, yes. But he was so childish…you decide to grab his hand and play with his fingers. He stares down at your hands and smiles softly.

“Will you behave?” you tease lightly. Your fingers weaving through his. He looks up at you with his big doe eyes and nods his head slowly.

“Yes.”

“Then I will forgive you for now but you’re on thin fucking ice, buddy.”

Jungkook can’t help but laugh a little. “Yes mam.”

“Fine!” you say clasping your hands together, “Secret time!”

“Oh great,” Jungkook chuckles. “You first”

“Okay, hmmmmm.” You hold your chin up in deep thought. “Okay I got one I have never told you.” You grin mischievously.

“Okay, go for it.”

“When I was really drunk I most definitely made out with Trina.”

“Yeah, I was there. I’m the one who told you that you should kiss her. I said kiss though, like a peck. But your ass added tongue and all.”

“Wait what? Why would you tell me to do that!”

“I thought it would be hot.” He shrugs.

“Wack.” You slap his hand, “Your turn.”

“Ummm…” Jungkook leans back in the tub, “I’m the one who told Jimin to dare me to kiss you our freshmen year.” Jungkook says just above a whisper. He’s been holding in that secret for 3 years.

“Wait, what?” you ask, totally off guard.

“Yeah.” Is all he responds with.

“You wanted to kiss me back then?”

“Wasn’t it obvious considering how things escalated…”

Your eyes expand in size, the memory of that night flashing in your mind.

“We agreed to never talk about it, ya know, to save our friendship and what not.” You point out.

The bubbles cover your bathing suit perfectly so little was left to the imagination. Jungkook keeps eyeing the swell of your breasts and the pop of your collarbones, you look naked if he has to be honest. And if he has to be honest it was starting to turn him on. Should that be a secret he shares?

“Jungkook?” you say for the 4th time trying to get him out of whatever drunken daze he was in.

“Huh?” he comes back down to earth. “What did you say?”

“I said, what are your dreams?”

“You know them already,” he shrugs.

“Video editor still?”

“Yeah. Maybe Director.” He smiles timidly, “What about yours?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re in school for marketing. So something with that?”

“I just chose that because I know I can find a job in the field.” You sigh.

Jungkook studies your features, you look troubled. He leans forward to grab your hands again and says , “Whatever you wanna do, you’ll be great at it,”

You crease your brows together and a pout forms on your lips, “You think so?”

“I know so.”

The two of you smile at one another until you break the silence, “Its getting too hot we should get out soon.”

“Agreed.” Jungkook nods his head.

“Alright let’s make our wishes that we MUST support.” You stick your pinky out for Jungkook to take, “I’ll go first.” Then you become shy with your next words, “I wish Taehyung would feel the same way about me I do about him.”

Jungkook’s smile falters but he takes your pinky anyway.

“My turn…I just…I wish you will be happy.”

You widen your eyes, “Wow,” you say, “What a selfless wish. You shouldn’t waste it on me!”

“It’s my greatest wish right now though…” he slurs his words.

You can’t help but smile as you take his pinky in promise.

Now in some fresh pajamas, you and Jungkook both stand in front of his bedroom door. The two of you are pretty damn drunk but holding it together quite nicely. He sways from side to side with that bunny smile and you can’t help but lean in for a hug. He takes a moment but he hugs you back. You pull away much too quickly for his liking.

“Hey y/n…”

“Yeah?”

Jungkook clears his throat a few times, his eyes darting all around the place, “Could you ever…hate me?”

“Never.” You answer quickly.

Jungkook is hit with a wave of guilt, a wave so big it comes crashing and knocking him down.

“Would if…no, never mind.”

“Never.” You say again.

Jungkook’s smiles fades a bit before a new smile takes over.

“I understand. Goodnight y/n.” and he leans down and places a kiss on your cheek. “sleep well.”

Fire. You feel the burn of fire. His kiss lingered for a second too long because you are burning. His kiss was scorching hot and you can’t help but melt from the heat. You are left speechless. From a kiss on the cheek.How did a kiss on the mother fucking cheek have you reacting this way?

“G-Goodnight Jung—” but the door is already softly closing in your face before you can finish your sentence.

~~~~~

The sun is coming through the blinds in the most offending way, you want to open your eyes and start the day but you just cannot. You have a raging headache from all the wine you quickly drank and you come to accept your fate—you’re hungover. As hell. You crack one eye open to see the time on the clock: 1:52pm

Immediately you sit up in bed, realizing you have slept way too long. How late did you and Jungkook stay up last night? Oh, last night. You smile softly at the memories of the night before. It was a perfect BFF slumber party. You haven’t seen Jungkook that happy in a while and you wonder if the same goes for you.

But then reality sets in—Taehyung is going to be here in 2 hours and you haven’t even thought about what you’re packing for your trip. You still need to eat, shower and get ready. You begin to mentally pack for your trip when you hear a single knock on your door before its opening up and a wild Jungkook appears.

“Morning sleepyhead.” He says with his signature bunny grin on his face.

“Jungkook! Help me pack!” you jump out of bed and walk to your closet, dragging out an oversized overnight bag.

“Like, parent appropriate clothes—I am freaking out by the way. I am meeting Tae’s parents and would if they don’t like me?”

“Relax, relax.” Jungkook walks inside your closet, bringing out a few clothing options. “They’re going to love you.”

“Do you…” you chew on your bottom lip, “Do you think your parents would have loved me?” you ask cautiously.

Jungkook freezes. He is silent for several long moments, making you believe you should not have asked that. But then he turns to face you with a strange smile, “Mom and dad would have adored you.” Then he pats your shoulder. “I put in some good options by the way.” He says pointing to the bag.

“Oh thanks.” You say totally caught off guard. “Okay I’m going to shower can you please, pretty please make me something to eat? I will love you forever.”

“You already love me forever.” Jungkook states matter of fact. “But sure, but don’t blame me if you don’t like what I make.”

“Oh god, you’re making me instant ramen aren’t you?”

“Love you.” He says, walking out of your room.

~~~~~~

“I made a playlist for our drive.” Taehyung hands you his phone, “It’s called ‘Meet the Parents’” he laughs to himself, pointing at the playlist on the screen for you to click.

“The first song is called ‘Please love me’ by Colde” you chuckle, “You think you are funny, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little” he smirks. “But really, relax. My parents are chill, they’re gonna like you, I promise.

“Well, we have a 2 hour drive Tae Tae.” Taehyung blushes hard at the nickname and for once it does not go unnoticed by you.

“I have a question for you y/n…”

You quirk a brow at his curiosity, “What is it?”

“How do you have the opportunity to fake date me? Like, don’t you have someone you like or guys chasing after you?”

“Oh I don’t have much luck with that.” You answer honestly. “With dating and such.”

“And why’s that?” he pries deeper.

“To be honest most guys I have dated end up dumping me if I don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

You grip your purse in your lap, your hold so tight your fingers become sore.

“Dump Jungkook.” You breathe out, “They were always so jealous of him…and… gave me a choice. Them or him,” you pick at the material of your purse, “I always chose Jungkook.” You huff, “Besides I didn’t like those guys that much anyway.”

Taehyung is quietly listening to you, nodding his head at your words. Once at a stop light he turns to face you,

“Yet when I asked you to dump Jungkook, you did.” He points out in a hushed tone.

“I…” you pause, thinking carefully on what to say. “I guess I did.”

Taehyung smiles. But it isn’t his boxy grin, it’s an odd smile. You become anxious, “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Right.” Taehyung says before facing the road again, accelerating through the green light.

“How did you and Jungkook becomes so close anyway?”

You can’t help but simper.

“Well, we met at a frat party but ended up at a 24 diner until like 9 the next morning. We just—we just really hit it off. I felt like I could say or be anything in front of Jungkook and he would always just give me a silly look and accept whatever it is, whatever I am. You know when you just vibe with someone so well?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Well that was us. We could say anything and still always want to continue the conversation. We ended up taking some of the same classes and studied together then that turned into regular hang outs and then it was like bam—I was with him almost every day.” You smile fondly at the memories.

Taehyung glances at you, he wears a sad smile as he asks, “Have either of you ever caught feelings for the other?”

You choke on the air around you, “What?” then that night from freshmen year flashes in your mind, “No…no.” you say trying to convince him, or is it to convince yourself?

The next few minutes are pretty quiet during the drive, but nothing awkward. You unzip your purse to pull out your phone to see you have unread messages from Jimin.

Jimin 5:30pm

Hey babe, heard you were going to meet Tae’s parents

Jimin 5:31pm

How is Jungkook feeling?

y/n 5:44pm

what do u mean

Jimin 5:45pm

y/n…nothing girl

y/n 5:45pm

????

Jimin 5:46pm

It’s really nothing. Anyway

Jimin 5:46pm

You and tae huh

Jimin 5:46pm

I am happy for you and tae…if that’s what you really want

You stare down at the phone in your hands, contemplating whether to tell Jimin the truth. He is one of your best friends after all.

y/n 5:55pm

tbh with u jimin…im not really dating tae..were just pretending to get this girl off his back

Jimin 5:56pm

What???? Really?? Wait, what girl?

y/n 5:57pm

Some chick named Anna

Jimin 5:57pm

Wait…Anna…?

Incoming call: Jimin

“Are you going to answer that?” Taehyung asks from beside you.

You want to but you two are pulling into his parents drive way and you don’t want your first impression to be that you were on your phone, so you send Jimin a quick text that you can’t talk.

You and Taehyung step out of the car and his parents are already standing outside on the porch. His father has his wife in his arms, they look happy to see Taehyung—they look happy in general.

“Oh! My baby bear!” his mother strides forward until Taehyung is wrapped in her loving arms. She sways their bodies back and forth as she smiles and laughs, the joy of having her son with her evident.

Taehyungs dad is about the same, he pulls him in for a tight hug and scolds him for not visiting more. Then it is your turn. You stand there awkwardly but not for long because Taehyungs mother is embracing you all the same.

“I have seen lots of pictures of you! But you are even prettier in person!” she gushes, her hands holding yours. You can’t help the blush that creeps up on your face as she speaks to you.

“Why don’t you two come inside?” his father gestures towards the house, “We got dinner nice and hot.”

Taehyung blushes as he watches his parents interact with you, he knew they would warm up to you fast but still it makes his heart race.

Dinner goes by quickly, his parents talking a storm. They begin sharing childhood stories about Taehyung and show you baby pictures as he sits there protesting. His pouting face is so cute you could die.

“And here he is with just a towel!” his mom squeals. “But I am sure you have seen that view already.”

“mom…” Taehyung draws out the word in a whine. You just giggle as she continues to show you pictures of baby Tae Tae.

Finally, Taehyungs sister joins the party and she teases him just as much as their parents. You feel right at home with the Kim’s. They are warm and inviting and make you feel so…at peace.

“Oh!” Mrs. Kim pauses, “look at the time!” she points down at her watch that rests on her left wrist.

“It’s gotten so late, my my. Well, us old folks are heading to bed. You two should get some rest as well.” She motions towards you and Taehyung. “Taehyung can show you the room you two will be staying in.”

“Room? As in singular?” you sputter out.

“Well, we only have one room open. One bed.” She juts her lip out innocently. “I figure you two are a couple so…”

“Yeah, we will be fine.” Taehyung cuts in. “Get some rest mom…dad.” He nods towards his father.

One room? One bed? With The Kim Taehyung. Granted that yes, you have become like, friends with Tae so you are more comfortable. But to share a room? Share a bed?

You follow Tae up the stairs and down the hall to a bedroom. It has a single queen size bed in the middle of the room against the wall. You feel flustered like it’s the first time you spoke to him.

“I can sleep on the floor if you want.” Taehyung offers with a shy smile and all your worries vanish. That’s right, Taehyung is a gentlemen and you have nothing to worry about.

“No, it’s fine” you assure him, “We are adults Tae, we can share a bed.”

Your hangover still lingers and the drive is starting to take its toll, your eyes feeling heavy as sleep invites you to visit.

“Let’s sleep.” You yawn out.

Taehyung nods his head with a smile and walks towards the bathroom, “I’ll get ready for bed in here,” he motions towards the bathroom, “and you can change in here. Just let me know when you’re done.”

“Alrighty”

You fall asleep quickly, letting your dreams take over for the night.

Winter break just started and you are supposed to go see your parents but when you found out your new friend Jungkook was going to be spending the holidays alone in his dorm you just could not let that slide.

“It’s not a big deal, y/n. I’m used to it.” He states in a plain fashion.

“it IS a big deal JK. My parents can handle one Christmas without me, but I am afraid you cannot.” You say with a smirk.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Jungkook is typing away on his laptop working on a last minute assignment his professor is letting him turn in late.

“Because even though I’ve only known you for like, 4 months, you’re like my closest friend here.”

“Don’t act like you have a closer friend somewhere else”

“Why do you have to call me out like that?”

Jungkook snickers, click clacking away on his keyboard, “Finally, I’m finished.” He says closing the laptop. Jungkook looks up at you.

“Go catch your flight y/n.” he says with a soft smile.

“Not happening.” You say more seriously.

Jungkook just stares at you for a long while and you stare right back. When the two of you look into one another’s eyes it’s never weird or awkward. You always relish in it.

“You’re something else aren’t you?” he breaks into a toothy grin. “What would we do anyway?”

“We can have a slumber party? And call it BFF slumber party.”

“Sounds fun” Jungkook stands from his rolling chair and sits on the edge of his bed with you.

“You know, you might be the best friend I have ever had.” He whispers.

Christmas passes by in a flash and NYE’s is right around the corner. Your friends are going to be back for NYE’s because of all the parties that required all of your attendances.

New Year’s eve has arrived and you sit in your dorm with Trina as the two of you get ready for the night.

“I hope Stephanie is going to be there tonight…” Trina mumbles under her breath, “If not this outfit is a complete waste.”

You giggle as you apply your red lipstick in the mirror. You get a text from Jimin that he and Jungkook are already headed to the party so you rush Trina to get ready to go.

The party is booming. There are decorations everywhere, people everywhere, and drinks everywhere. You sip on a few beers, wanting to stay at least a little sober so you remember the night, and you hope Jungkook isn’t too trashed either.

Hours pass, lots of dancing goes down and more drinks go down…your throat. It was all fun and games until Jimin called for your group of friends to head to a bedroom to play an innocent game of truth or dare.

You stick to Jungkook’s side as the two of you stumble up the stairs, laughing loudly and holding hands to keep each other stable.

You all sat in a circle in the room, talking and laughing until Jimin clanked a glass with a spoon like a fancy bitch to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay first, lets start with Trina! Truth or Dare?” Jimin smirks.

“Dare, obviously.”

“Okay,” Jimin thinks for a few moments, “I dare you to flash everyone your tits.”

“Oh? Is that all?” Trina says as she quickly lifts her shirt. She was already braless. You and Jungkook cackle at the scene unfolding.

“Okay, Hobi…truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He says with an excited grin.

“Dare you to take 3 shots in a row.”

And the night went on like this until it was Jimins turn again,

“Jungkook, truth or dare?” Jimin had an evil glint in his eye, you should of known he was up to no good.

“Dare.” Jungkook says with a cocky smile.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

“y/n?” Taehyung shakes you a bit more, “y/n?”

“Huh?” you begin to open your eyes and take in your view. You are in a small bedroom, there are posters on the wall and a small desk next to the bedroom door. And most importantly a Kim Taehyung in front of your face.

“What…What time is it?” you ask, sleep still evident in your voice.

“9:00” he grins down at you. “We’re going strawberry picking today, get dressed!”

You rub your eyes, trying to rid yourself of the sleep that crusted them but it is no use, you are still exhausted.

“I dare you to kiss y/n.”

Why? Why did you dream that memory? You shake your head trying to rid yourself of the lingering dream in your mind. That was a long time ago, time to move on.

You quickly shower and get dressed and meet Taehyung and his parents for breakfast.

“Wow, smells good!” you inhale the air, while smiling sweetly to Mrs. Kim.

“Do you cook y/n?” she asks, looking eager to know.

“Yeah, I do. Well, sometimes.” You laugh to yourself “My roommate is useless in the kitchen so someone has to cook.”

“That’s great!” Mrs. Kim exclaims, nodding approvingly to her husband. “Taehyungs last girlfriend couldn’t even toast a poptart.” She rolls her eyes but then smiles at you again.

Last girlfriend? You don’t recall Taehyung ever having a girlfriend in the time you have known him. Must have been a while.

“Mom…” Taehyung warns,

“Oh alright, we aren’t talking about her. What was her name again?”

“Mom.”

“Okay okay.”

You awkwardly play with your fingers at their back and forth. Who was his girlfriend? Were they dating more recently? Why has the energy shifted so much in the kitchen?

“So you two are going strawberry picking huh? That’ll be fun. Be sure you bring back the reddest, juiciest ones you can find!” Mr. Kim chimes in.

You and Taehyung arrive at the strawberry farm a couple hours later, you two are some of the only people there.

“Small town.” Taehyung explains.

“More for us.” You poke your tongue out. “You must really like strawberries Tae.”

“Actually, no. I’m tired of them.” His laughter fills your ears, you watch as he sways into your side “But it’s still fun and we can take some cute pics here.”

“Yeah, true.” You try to smile brightly but fall short. “Well I’m glad we’re getting some because Jungkook eats all the damn strawberries at home!” Taehyung watches as you giggle and he frowns.

You spend time walking side by side, taking lots of photos, and enjoying one another’s company. The wonderful breeze rushes through you, making you feel alive and well.

“No way! Trina did not do that!” Taehyung laughs so hard, shaking his whole body.

“I swear! I told her she was going to get caught but that bitch does not listen to me.” You laugh alongside him.

“And I swear to you, I was not about to get caught with her so me and Jungkook ran for it. I would rather fucking die.” You laugh again.

“You don’t say that type of stuff in front of Jungkook, do you?” Taehyungs tone becomes serious, surprising you.

“What stuff?” you tilt you head in confusion.

“You know ‘wanting to die’ bullshit. He really hates that because well, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t say that around him, he’s real sensitive about that for some reason.” You laugh awkwardly, swinging your arms side to side as you two walk.

“Well for good reason. Right?”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing…” Taehyung releases a shaky breath. “It’s not my place to tell you.”

“If it’s about my best friend—”

“Sorry. Not my place.” Taehyung says more harshly. “Let’s just change the subject.”

Your mind begins racing…why is Jungkook so sensitive about that? What isn’t he telling you?

“Don’t think too much about it y/n.” Taehyung says softly. “He will tell you eventually.”

“Oh…” you bow your head down, “Okay…”

“Well, tell me more about you Tae.”

“what do you want to know?”

“let’s start with the basics! What’s your favorite color?”

Taehyung looks up at the sky and hums to himself, “I don’t have one but today maybe it’s blue.”

“You don’t have a favorite color? Why blue today?”

“The sky. It’s so pretty. I wish I could find this exact shade of blue and recreate this sky…” he sighs to himself, “But then again maybe today it’s green.” He gestures towards your top. “Because it brings out the color in your eyes.”

You pause mid walk, tilting your head up at him. “You like green today because I…I’m wearing it?”

“Is that strange?” he stops walking as well, “Because your eyes—”

“Why not choose the color of my eyes?” you tease.

“Because I like what wearing green does to them specifically.” He rubs your shoulder, “Come on, let’s keep going.”

You nod your head and the two of you continue your walk, he takes your hand in his and you smile to yourself. This feels like a real date.

“What are you most afraid of?” you feel his hand grow sweaty in your palm. “Like, for example, Jungkook doesn’t like spiders or…”

“Being left.” He blurts out. “But yeah, not a fan of spiders either.” He chuckles.

“Being left?”

Taehyung walks towards a bench and sits down, you follow his lead taking a seat close to him. He takes a few deep breaths and lowers his head.

“Imagine a parent or a significant other or even a friend…they say they love you and stuff…but then change their mind or something happens and they end up leaving. That’s what I’m most afraid of. Being left alone.”

You bite your lip, you realize he and Jungkook have this in common. Your hand rushes to find his, you gently stroke your thumb over his golden skin. “Someone would be absolutely crazy to abandon you, Taehyung.”

Surprising you, he scoffs.

“I’m serious…you are…just amazing. You’re sweet, funny, caring and kind and you make great art and you have great taste in movies…you also know the best pizza…” you continue to stroke his skin as you ramble, “You have the most genuine heart, Taehyung.”

Taehyung lifts his head to face you, he looks pained.

“y/n…”

“You don’t have to say anything, I’m here for you, you know?” you scoot closer to him on the bench and Taehyung leans into you.

“You’re too good to me…��� Taehyung whispers so quietly you barely hear him. “You really think that of me?”

“Of course, I do. You make me feel…” the words die on your tongue when you feel Taehyung cup your jaw with his hand.

“You make me feel….too.” he whispers just loud enough that you hear him loud and clear.

Then Taehyung leans back, his hand dropping from your face, “I have to tell you something.”

“No.” you cut in. Whatever it is it can wait. Because…because you know it’s not something that will make you happy and you don’t want this weekend to be ruined. You just know.

“Tell me another time?” you lean into him, your fingers intertwining with his. “Please…”

Taehyung exhales deeply, frustration written all over his face. He turns in his seat to face you.

“Soon.” He promises.

“Ha, you sound like Jungkook.”

“Do you always find a way to talk about Jungkook?” Taehyung lifts your chin with his fingers.

“W-What?”

Taehyung looks serious for a second before he cracks a smile and laughs, “I’m just teasing you.”

~~~~~

“Wait, wait. So you’re telling me you ALSO love museums?!” Taehyung squeezes your hand in excitement.

“Yeah, they’re really interesting.” You smile.

“Oh my god, all our friends think they’re so boring. Well, Namjoon likes them. Anyway, why haven’t we gone on a museum date? I want to take you so bad now!” His eyes are shining like a child, you can’t help but adore him.

“Then let’s go sometime Tae.”

Taehyung lowers the basket he’s holding to the ground and takes your basket and sets it on the ground as well.

“I really…” Taehyung pauses, reaching his hand to grab yours. “Really had a nice time with you today.

You look down at your joined hands and smile. “Me too, Tae Tae.”

Taehyung leans over and pecks your cheek. It makes you smile.

“What was that for?” you ask shyly. “There’s no people around.” You chuckle a bit bitterly.

“Just felt like it,” his soft smile making you swoon. “Should we head back? My parents will probably be in bed by the time we make it back home.”

“Sure.”

~~~~~

The house is dark and quiet when you enter through the front door. Only the sound of the ceiling fan rotating in cold, noisy circles could be heard. It was oddly calming and made the long day catch up to you.

“Let’s get ready for bed.” Tae whispers into your ear and it tickles.

The two of you head up the flight of stairs and enter the bedroom. You take turns using the bathroom to get ready for bed, once all done you make your way under the covers and slowly close your eyes.

“y/n?”

You turn over in bed to face Taehyung, your faces just inches apart.

“Yes?” you whisper.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this.” The guilt in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you, as usual. “I wish there was something more I could do for you…”

“You’re already buying me coffee.” You giggle.

“I want to do more,” Taehyung gulps “I want to…” he scoots even closer to you, his hot breath fanning your face. You can smell the mint from his toothpaste and his natural scent. It fills your nostrils and you suck in a sharp breath.

“You want to what?” you say with a shaky voice.

Taehyungs breathing begins to quicken, you can feel each rushed breath and you wonder what’s gotten into him.

“What do you want to do, Tae?” you ask again.

You can see Taehyungs tongue dart out to wet his lips and you can’t help but stare. His lips look so plump and delicious, you want a bite.

“I…I don’t know…” he turns to lay on his back. “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers.

“Sure.”

“I wanted to kiss more than your cheek today.” He turns back over to his side to face you again. “Is that wrong?”

Taehyung wanted to kiss you? Like, kiss you kiss you? You feel happy, yes. But do you feel your heart racing in excitement? You don’t know.

“Tae—”

“Even now, I still want to…kiss you…” his hand brushes against the skin of your cheek and you start to feel your heart beat just a little faster. Finally…

“But,” he pulls backs, “It’s wrong, isn’t it?”

“Why would it be wrong?”

“Because…y/n…I have to tell you some—”

You quickly lean over to seal his lips with yours. Usually your kisses are short and sweet and tender but this time you use more force as you press your lips over his mouth, the kiss sloppy and heated. He instantly kisses you back with fervor, your tongue prodding its way into his mouth and he obliges in seconds, his tongue playing with yours. You moan into his mouth and Taehyungs hands are all over you, they travel into your hair, down your back, grabbing your hips and rubbing your ass.

“Tae…” you whine out

Taehyungs fingers play with the hem of your shorts and you push your hips into his.

“Please.” You beg for more.

“But wait—”

“Please.” You repeat.

Taehyung stares at you for several long moments, thinking of what to do…he wants to devour you, if he had to be honest. But is this right? But he…

Then his eyes go dark, his gaze piercing.

“I’m going to taste you.” He says in voice so deep you even question that its him.

Next thing you know your shorts are pulled down along with your panties and Taehyungs mouth is an inch away from devouring you.

“Gonna make you feel so good.” He groans into your heat, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. And again and again. You quietly whimper into the pillow as his tongue fucks you.

“More Taehyung, more…” you moan, your hands gripping his hair.

Taehyung smirks up at you and inserts two fingers into your greedy cunt, he curls and scissors them inside you making you weep pathetically.

“That feel good sweetheart?”

Then he’s diving back in, his tongue assaulting your clit until you feel the buildup of your inevitable orgasm—you mean, it is Kim Taehyung.

He gives your clit one last good suck before you are reaching your high, pulling on his locks and moaning at a higher pitch. Fuck, that was good.

“You sound so fucking hot when you come…” Taehyung moves back up the bed as you lay there breathless. “Next time I want you coming on my—”

Taehyung stops himself from finishing that sentence. You watch as he groans into his hands, “I mean, if you want there to be a next time.”

“Of course I do, Tae.” You flip to your side and find his lips. You give him a long kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. “How could I not?”

Taehyung savors your lips on his, he finds his hands in your hair again as he deepens it. He should feel like shit but somehow he feels…good. And he’s confused as hell for it.

~~~~~

The next morning comes by quickly, you are saying your goodbyes to the Kim’s with promises that you will return soon. And you secretly hope you do.

The drive back to Uni is a slow one, you and Taehyung listen to his playlist and chat every now and then while he holds your hand. You smile like an idiot the whole time.

Taehyungs phone is in your hand as you slide through the music options, you’re about to choose a song when he receives an incoming text.

Anna 10:08am

You think that will work, Taehyung? Try harder.

You slide the message up, trying to ignore it. You don’t want some stalker to ruin the good mood you’re in. But you can’t help but wonder what she is talking about. And why hasn’t he blocked her? You don’t say anything to Taehyung, he is also in a good mood and you don’t want to ruin it. He’s humming the tune from the car speakers and lifts his hand that holds yours and kisses it.

Another hour passes and you and Taehyung are in front of your apartment.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you up?” Taehyung questions sweetly.

“I’m sure!” you stand on your tip toes to kiss his cheek and turn around to walk away.

“Oh no you don’t.” Taehyung chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss on the lips. Then another kiss and then another. “Now you can go.” He teases.

You break out in a wide grin, and tilt your head up to kiss him one last time.

You walk up the steps to your apartment, and walk towards your front door. What an amazing weekend, you think. You got to know Taehyung a lot better, you met his parents and you two shared an unforgettable night—at least for you. Oh no. Should you have returned the favor? Instead of worrying about it you decide it’s okay, he owes you after all. You chuckle to yourself as you unlock the front door.

You step inside your apartment with a an idiotic, dopey ass smile plastered on your face.

“What’s with you?” Jungkook asks from the living room couch.

“Oh nothing,” You sing, “Just had a really good weekend.”

“Oh? So I guess meeting his parents went well?” Jungkook stands to meet you at the entrance, he takes your bag for you and sets it down.

“That too.” You giggle.

Jungkook cocks his head to the side, “I’m serious, what’s up with you?” he can’t help but smile. You look so happy.

“Nothing we just… we just…” you bite your lip, contemplating on what to tell Jungkook.

“You… just?” his smile begins to fade as realization hits him. Then his face hardens. “Did he fuck you?” Jungkook’s voice is lower than you have ever heard it.

“What?” you choke out.

“I asked if this asshole fucked you?”

“Okay, one: he’s not an asshole. Two: no, he did not fuck me.”

Jungkook visibly relaxes.

Telling Jungkook the truth will probably only upset him for some reason so you decide against it. You don’t need his negativity right now. Finally, fucking finally, Taehyung is crossing a line with you…on the side where friendship is beginning to become blurred and nothing makes you more excited. You have been waiting for this, you have spent so much time with him and and… you need this.

“Okay…” Jungkook leans down and picks up your bag and heads to your room. You watch as he swings the bedroom door open and set the bag inside.

“Wanna order some food?” he calls out, walking towards you again.

“Honestly we got up pretty early this morning so I think I’ll take a quick nap. But after? If you’re willing to wait a couple hours?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Get some rest.” He smiles, jumping back on the couch and pressing play on whatever show he was watching.

Your bed is so unbelievably soft and warm that as soon as you sink in the sheets your eyes are already closing in exhaustion. But your mind stays awake…you think about the weekend you just had with Taehyung and all the progress you have made. You like him so much, you want nothing more than for him to feel the same way. At least you think you…anyway. You recall his lips kissing down your body, his tongue teasing your thighs, his hands gripping your hips.

Taehyungs dark eyes as he stares up from you is without a doubt one of the sexiest things you have had the pleasure of witnessing. Wait—why one of? Why can’t it be the sexiest thing you have ever seen? Then different images bombard your brain but you’re quick to throw them away. Only Taehyung lives in your mind rent free, god damn it. He ain’t gotta pay a penny.

You think about the light, teasing kisses he left on your neck…you think about his fingers and how they fucked you, god they felt so fucking good. You smile as you think about what else he could do for you…your lazy smile widens at the thought.

Your eyes are still closed and images of Taehyung run wild in your mind as you start to doze off. Yes, you can fall asleep with him in your thoughts. Your body feels heavier and heavier as sleep finally takes over, you welcome Taehyung in your dreams as well. At least you hope you dream of him.

The bed creaks beneath you as Jungkook guides you further up the mattress, his body hovering your own. His hands come to slide up your arms as you shiver under his touch.

“I’m giving you goosebumps.” He says while lightly stroking your arm, feeling each bump under his fingertips. “What else do I do to you?”

“So many things Jungkook…” you heavily breathe out, your chest is heaving at this point. The anticipation of his touch is driving you nuts.

“Need to find out.” He simply states, his head lowering down to the crook of your neck. He breathes you in and lowers himself between your spread legs.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes, please.” You don’t mean to whimper, but you do. You fucking do.

Jungkook’s slender fingers make their way skimming across your bare stomach until he reaches the hem of your panties. He lifts the band up and slaps it against your skin.

“I want these off, is that okay?”

You only nod your head.

“Words y/n. When you’re with me you use your words okay baby?” His fingers begin lowering your panties down. “Lift yourself for me.” And you obey. Jungkook slides your panties down your legs and you’re left completely naked underneath him.

“God, I can just see how wet you are.” You immediately force your legs shut, feeling embarrassed at his words.

“Not uh, I don’t think so. You got this wet for me? I want to see it. Open for me, baby.” Very hesitantly you begin to move your legs apart, the blush on your face deepening.

The rest is almost a blur. You can recall his fingers spreading your folds, you whining for him to touch more of you. You can recall his mouth hovering your pussy, his tongue swirling around your clit. You can recall his fingers stretching you out and moaning out his name. It’s what came next that is very clear in your mind. Its him kissing your lips, whispering sweet nothings into your ear and his cock sliding between your folds. The desire you feel for him is very real and he can feel that.

“Please, Jungkook!” You gasp out, as he teases his cock at your entrance.

Jungkook slides his gorgeous cock into you inch by glorious inch. His cock twitching inside your pulsating pussy, his harsh breaths fanning your face. Jungkook slams his eyes shut, his teeth gritting in anticipation as he waits for you to give the ok. You only gasp for air as he bottoms out, his dick reaching places no one ever has before, you slowly nod your head giving him permission to fuck you into oblivion. He says he could, so you’ll believe him. .

Jungkook opens an eye to look at you carefully, your face contorted in pleasure showing him how you are indeed okay to go on. Jungkook’s hand massages your hips, his touch setting your skin on fire. He begins to slowly ease out of you until just the tip remains then he slams his hips into yours. His body falls forward and he lifts your head up with his free hand and brings you closer for a wild kiss. He grinds himself into you deliciously, his hips rocking back and forth causing you to moan out for him over and over.

“Please…please.” You pant, rolling your hips into his as you meet his desperate thrusts.

“Please what, princess?” he breathes out heavily, “Told you that when you’re with—” He begins fucking into you faster, “When you’re with me…to use your words.” His pace is bruising, causing you to choke on the air around you.

“Please, harder.” You manage to get out while gripping on to his wide shoulders, your finger nails digging into his soft skin.

Jungkook smirks down at you, his eyes shining with something you can’t quite describe.

“Harder?” he questions, his lips coming down to suck bruises into your neck. “Deeper too?” he bites a particular spot that makes you groan.

“Just—just need more of you…” you grab his hair by the handful and yank his head back and bring his face to yours. Your lips meeting his.

His tongue slips past your lips, tongues dancing to the beat of his thrusts. His cock is buried so deep within you that you feel you are no longer a single person but now a person merged with another. You have never felt more connected.

Jungkook whines at the sight of you—your lips apart and eyes barely open. Your head is thrown back showing Jungkook all the pretty blooming bruises on your skin.

“So fucking pretty.” He grits out, eyes lit on fire.

You’re barely able to respond as he thrusts into you even harder, your tits bouncing with each movement.

“Gonna come soon…” he says between heavy breaths, his pace becoming sloppy.

“Gonna come inside me?” you cry out, your fingernails digging into his back.

“Need you to come with me baby”

You could of came from his cock alone, that you are sure of but when his fingers meet your sensitive clit, you are seeing stars. He’s rubbing messy circles, easily sliding around from how wet you are, his fingers getting drenched.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly his fingers bring you to orgasm.

You gasp out, voice hoarse from all the moaning and screaming he’s drawn from your body. “Fuuuuuucckk.” You whine, your orgasm leaving you breathless.

“I—I’m coming…” he pants in your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

He fucks into you quickly before stilling his hips and shooting his cum deep within you, decorating your walls. He doesn’t move. You don’t move. He stays buried to the hilt, breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. You aren’t much better, your breaths also harsh. You look to the nightstand to read the clock that says 4 AM. Fuck, what did you do?

You just fucked your best friend.

Panicked and out of breath, you sit up in bed. Sweat forming on your hairline and dribbling down the side of your face. Why? Why this dream of all dreams? Why this memory?

[ragingbookdragon]

If All Of The Kings Had Their Queens On The Throne

Batsis x Ghost-Maker One-Shot

Word Count: 4K Warnings: Explicit Language, Slight Angst, Mature Themes

Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of the previous fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

When the door to The Haunt didn’t immediately open, she frowned and clicked the button. “Hey! Lemme in!”

For a moment, there was nothing, then she heard, “Apologies Miss Wayne. Ghost-Maker is busy training. Shall I alert him?”

She sighed. “Nah, just let me in and I’ll get him.”

“Of course.”

The doors split open, and she walked into the base, immediately rolling her eyes at the colors, or better yet the lack of color at all. She had no idea what spurred him to pick white as one of the main colors in everything he wore and used, but God if it didn’t make him look like a psychopath. A snort passed her lips at her little joke, and she wandered around the desk setup and through one of the curtained areas until she heard boxing gloves meeting a punching bag.

Gently tugging the curtain aside, she paused, leaning against the doorway, and watched his back. He was shirtless and had headphones in, as he usually was and did when he trained alone, and his muscles rippled each time he threw a powerful strike. She couldn’t help but watch him; he’d always been so diligent when it came to his training, and if she hadn’t known him better than she did, she would’ve assumed all he did was train. She was very fond of it though. Very fond of him.

“You going to stand there or are you going to get a set of gloves and spar with me?”

She shook herself from her thoughts to see him rounding the bag, throwing a devastating kick; she snorted. “No thanks, Ghost. I just got over having a cracked skull.” Walking over, she neared the space, but stayed just far enough that she wouldn’t get struck.

“I’m actually here to invite you over to the manor tonight.” She said, watching as his eyes flitted to hers behind the mask. “I take it you know.”

“About the little pool party Bruce throws for everyone? Yes. I keep hearing about it over the Ghost-Net.”

She smiled. “It’s a lot of fun, Ghost. You’d have fun.”

He scoffed. “What? Being surrounded by every single hero this side of the galaxy? No thank you, (Y/N). I’d rather not.”

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the punching bag and held it, looking at him. “You’re not going to make any friends if you spend all your time cooped up in here.”

“I’m not looking to make friends,” he retorted, throwing another punch that sent shock-waves through her arms to her core. “I’m here to clean up Gotham.”

(Y/N) gazed at him. “Sure I can’t persuade you?”

“Positive.”

She shrugged. “Then you leave me no choice.” Leveling him with a strong expression, she warned, “As the newest member of the Batfamily, you have to attend the pool party. It’s tradition and anyone who doesn’t, has to take patrol routes for everyone for a month straight.”

Ghost-Maker stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her. “You’re lying.”

(Y/N) sucked in a breath dramatically, “Ghost, I never lie.” She looked to the ceiling. “Icon, run the conversations from my phone named, ‘Bat-Chat’ and tell him I’m not lying.”

After a moment, the AI’s voice came over, clear and positive. “Miss Wayne is correct, sir. Record texts have shown that those who do not attend the parties thrown by the family for the other superheroes are subject to various torture techniques.”

“What!” (Y/N) shouted. “No, we don’t!”

“You said on June eighth that your brother Timothy Jackson Drake was going to be swirlied for missing the party.”

She sputtered. “I was joking! We don’t swirly each other. We just force our patrol routes on each other.” (Y/N) glanced at Ghost-Maker. “If you don’t come, you’re going to take patrol from me, Dick, Jason, Tim, Cass, Steph, Duke, and Damian. You really wanna patrol all month by yourself? All that territory? Think of the time and energy it’ll take, Ghost.”

Ghost-Maker stared her down for a minute, mulling over his choices, then he finally sighed, resigned to his fate. “Fine. I’ll come over tonight.”

(Y/N) grinned. “Nope, you gotta get ready now. We’re arriving together.”

“You annoy me.” He griped, bypassing her to the doorway, and she followed him towards the stairs and to his bedroom where he entered the bathroom and got in the shower. She waited on the bed, gazing around his room while he showered.

“Who all is attending this party? That you know for sure.”

(Y/N) blinked, taking a moment to think. “Uh, all of the Justice League, the Titans and Teen Titans, the Outlaws, a few Green Lanterns…and probably a few anti-heroes but we’ll see.” She shrugged. “So pretty much everyone we interact with on a normal basis.”

“I heard Harley is coming too.”

“Yeah, she’s technically part of the family at this point.” (Y/N) said. “She’d be upset if we didn’t invite her over.”

Ghost-Maker stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and she stood from the bed, wandering in behind him as he lathered his face in shaving cream.

“Trying to show out in front of everyone, Ghost?” she joked, leaving back against the door-frame of the small cabinet behind them.

“Bruce doesn’t keep himself kempt all the time. I do,” he remarked, flicking out the straight razor; he raised it to his jaw, and she hummed warningly, causing his brown eyes to meet hers in the mirror. “What?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I’m just worried you’ll cut yourself.”

“I’ve been shaving my face since I was fifteen, (Y/N).”

“So that scar on your cheekbone isn’t from cutting yourself?”

He gazed at her. “You know why I have that scar.”

“I do.” She answered, then leaned away from the wall, shifting until she was sitting on the bathroom counter in front of him. Taking the razor, she tilted his chin up and carefully, scraped it down his cheek before rinsing it. “I gave it to you when you called me a coward.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to hit me that hard.” Ghost-Maker replied, coffee eyes focused on her face; she felt exposed under his knowing gaze.

She chuckled. “I think that was the first time I really surprised you that I wasn’t just my brother’s twin sister following him around to make sure he was safe.”

“You can’t blame me for thinking you were. You never joined in the training.”

“I learned better watching then doing.” (Y/N) rinsed the razor and tipped his head back as she drug the instrument down the exposed skin of his throat. “Most people are fearful when someone holds a razor to their neck,” she murmured, carefully shaving his Adam’s apple.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Her hands stilled ever so slightly as she gaped at him. Normally he would’ve said, “I don’t feel fear” but now he said he wasn’t afraid of her. She wanted to hope it was because of what had occurred the last month, her confessing her feelings, him replying that he couldn’t love her like she did him—he’d not totally ruled out caring for her, at least that’s what she saw his words being. They’d not talked about it more than that night, merely going back to work, but she could tell that Ghost-Maker’s demeanor towards her had changed a minute amount. He watched her more. Was…softer with her.

(Y/N) smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” She rinsed the razor and looked over his face for a moment, then she grabbed the towel and wet it, gently brushing over the shaving cream still on his face. Patting his face dry, she nodded. “Looks good. No nicks.”

“Thank you,” he approved, but didn’t move, keeping his eyes on her and she couldn’t help but look down, suddenly nervous under his gaze.

Her eyes widened when she saw the expanse of his chest though and she reached up, fingers delicately tracing a jagged and raised scar in the middle of his chest. Even healed it looked angry and a bolt of sadness hit her in the heart.

“You’re sad.” He noted. For a psychopath who didn’t feel empathy, he was actually good at discerning when people felt sad—or maybe it was just because he’d known her so long.

(Y/N) nodded, whispering, “There aren’t many scars on mine and Bruce’s bodies that look like this one.” Her fingers moved to one on the right side of his ribs and she frowned. “We’ve always had someone to stitch us up, or we did it for one another. But I can’t help but wonder…” her eyes met his. “Who did it for you? Who stitched the ones you couldn’t reach and do yourself?”

Her chest hurt. “Who was there for you when I wasn’t?” she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to the center of his chest. He was so warm, and she sighed, willing herself to not tear up. “I’m sorry, K.”

“For what?” he questioned, a hand coming up behind her, palm resting against the back of her neck.

“For leaving you behind,” (Y/N) answered, deciding then to wrap her arms around his waist, turning her face so her cheek rested to his chest. “I should’ve stayed with you.”

Ghost-Maker made a noise in his throat, and she wasn’t sure if it was agreement or bitterness. “And if you had, you wouldn’t have raised your family.”

She sighed. “Yeah…I know…but even during that time I couldn’t help but wonder how your journey was going. How you and your tech were evolving throughout the years.” (Y/N) pulled back slightly and looked at him. “I used to imagine what it’d be like to be there with you. To fight beside you. To live out your dream with you.”

His hand shifted from the back of her neck to cup her cheek and he tilted her head up, leaning down to kiss her. She closed her eyes, arms shifting from around his waist to wrap around his neck and his free hand gripped her waist, pulling her against him. Ghost-Maker shifted, pressing his lips to the underside of her jaw as his fingers dipped under her thigh, pulling it up until (Y/N) got the hint to cock it around his hip.

“K,” she breathed as he sunk his teeth into her neck, biting hard enough that it had her inhaling sharply, fingers twisting in the dark hair at the nape of his neck. She felt him smile against her skin.

“What do you want?” he asked, pressing surprisingly gentle kisses to where he’d bit as the hand that was on her cheek lowered to push up the blouse that stopped at her waist. His fingers dipped underneath, rubbing against her skin and he asked again, this time firmer, “(Y/N), what do you want?”

Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she could barely think, could barely form words. “I—”

A shrill beeping startled the two of them, well, her more than him, and she finally got herself to breathe. “That’s Bruce calling.” She uncurled one of her hands from his neck to reach for the phone in her pocket, but he caught it.

“Call him back.” Ghost-Maker said, grabbing a fistful of her blouse, starting to pull up.

(Y/N) shrugged his hand off. “If Bruce’s calling, it means he needs my help.” He pulled away and giving her a look, one she met firmly. “I need to take it.”

They gazed at each other for a moment and then he harrumphed, pulling away from her, and walked from the bathroom to his closest.

She sighed and pulled out her phone, answering it. “Hello?”

Are you on your way yet? The party’s already started and everyone’s asking where you both are.

Clearing her throat, she replied, “Yeah, he’s getting his swim trunks.” She glanced out the doorway. “You own trunks, don’t you, Ghost?”

“Do I somehow give you the impression that I’m incompetent?” he shot back, and she rolled her eyes.

“Ass.” She put the phone back to her ear. “We’ll be there in fifteen.”

Be careful. Love you.

“We will. And I love you too.” She ended the call and hopped off the bathroom counter, flicking off the lights as she walked out, seeing him throwing a bag over his shoulder.

“I’m ready to be bored out of my mind.” He grunted and she rolled her eyes again.

“Oh, shut up. You’re going to have a great time. I promise.”

Ghost-Maker glared at her as he pulled the white and black mask over his eyes and nose. “And how do you know?”

(Y/N) grinned, shoving him in the stomach as she walked past him. “Because I’m going to be there all night.”

***

“See!” she chirped as he sunk into the hot tub. “This isn’t so bad.” She handed him a drink. “Free drinks, laughter, and swimming. Fun, huh?”

He grunted, sipping the margarita she’d given him. “Your family and their friends are loud.”

(Y/N) looked over his head towards the other pool, grinning as her eldest nephew threw her youngest into the pool, then turned and threw his best friend. Laughter peeled from the entire group in the pool.

“Yeah…but that’s how you know they’re having a good time.” Her eyes drifted to Bruce who was fondly watching Jason and Roy grill, occasionally laughing as one of them told a joke. “Feelin’ good, Bruce?”

He took a sip of his brandy, sinking until his shoulders were covered by the running hot water. “Feeling great, (Y/N).” he held out his drink. “Put some ice in there? Please?”

She smiled and pulled her legs out of the hot tub, and really, it wasn’t exactly a hot tub because most were above ground, but Bruce being who he was, had redesigned it so that it and the pool were both in ground and connected.

Taking his glass, she rose and wandered over to the bar where a few of her friends were pouring drinks and chatting. “Hey Clark. Diana. How are you both tonight?”

Diana smiled and raised her wine glass. “I am well, (Y/N). How are you?”

“Can’t complain.” She said. “Clark, put an ice cube in here, would you?”

He did as she asked and dropped one in with the tongs. “I’m still surprised you got Ghost-Maker here. I assumed he wasn’t going to come.”

Her eyes flicked back over to the hot tub, and she watched Bruce tip his head back as he laughed, Ghost-Maker chuckling too; she smiled. “He’d never admit it, but he’s glad he came tonight. Anti-social as he usually is, he likes being included in things.” (Y/N) smiled at them and winked, walking back over.

She took her seat back on the side in the middle between Bruce and Ghost-Maker, handing her brother his brandy. “Clark licked all over the rim of your glass, Bruce. Just letting you know.” Feeling particularly childish, Bruce raised the glass to his lips and licked all around the glass. “You’re a child.” She remarked, then glanced to her side, seeing one of the Green Lanterns coming down the way.

“Kyle!” she greeted. “Join the fray!”

The artist smiled, then looked at the men in the hot tub. “I don’t want to intrude,” he said, and Bruce waved.

“Come on in.”

(Y/N) patted the wall between her legs and Kyle walked down the steps, shifting until his back pressed against the wall and she dropped her legs over his shoulders, fingers carding in his hair. “How’s it been going on Oa?”

He shrugged, sipping his beer. “It’s good. Can’t complain too much about saving the universe.”

She smirked. “Uh huh…and what’s this about you and Soranik?”

Kyle choked a bit on his beer, coughing slightly as she giggled. “It’s uh—complicated.” He tipped his head back, resting on her thighs so he could look up at her. “What about you? How’ve you been?”

(Y/N) sighed wistfully, combing back his hair. “Ain’t nothing changin’ but the weather…and the usual telling off the men in front of you for continually betting each other who can do the more stupid shit.”

At that, Kyle’s head tipped up and he first looked at Bruce, then to Ghost-Maker who merely drank from his margarita. “Uh…who’s that?” he asked quietly, and she snorted.

“Kyle, this is Ghost-Maker. Ghost, this is Kyle Rayner, the torch bearing Green Lantern.” She smushed his cheeks. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Ghost-Maker gave her an amused puff. “He is handsome, I’ll give you that.”

Kyle was glad the water had already flushed his skin because the way the man had flirted had made his cheeks warm. “Thank you.” He glanced back at her. “Is his name…?”

She nodded. “Yeah, he takes anonymity to a whole new level.” She tugged at a strand of his hair. “Did you know that only me, Bruce, and a few others know what he looks like and what his entire name is?”

He blinked in response. “That’s…hardcore secret identity, right there.”

“That’s because he doesn’t have any friends.” (Y/N) shot Ghost-Maker a grin. “But you can call him Ghost for short. It’s easier than the mouthful of Ghost-Maker.” The vigilante in return merely rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. “So, Kyle, have any new graphic novels in the works?”

“I do actually. Haven’t written them down but here’s an idea.” He brought up his hand out of the water and a green flash appeared in everyone’s vision. “See how you like it so far?”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh in disbelief. “This is so cool.” She grabbed the construct comic book and flipped through it. “Who’s the main?”

“Haven’t named her yet. But she’s a transgender, pansexual Native American who solves crimes as a superhero.” His cheeks flushed. “I know it’s ironic because we’re superheroes, but I couldn’t help it, you know?”

She nodded, seemingly impressed. “Figured out which tribe yet?”

“I was thinking possibly Cherokee. Or Mohawk.”

“I’ve got a MTF Kanienʼkehá꞉ka friend who lives in Quebec.” She said. “I’ll give her a call about working with you on this.”

Kyle lit up like the morning sun. “Really, (Y/N)? You’d do that?”

She looked down at him and shifted her thighs a bit, bumping his head. “Of course. You’re one of my best friends.”

“I love you, (Y/N).” he grinned, and she chuckled.

“I love you too, loser.”

Suddenly the speakers thumped, and her head shot up, looking towards Tim and Bart who were giggling. She pointed at them. “HEY! THIS IS NOT AN APPROPRIATE SONG!”

They merely giggled more and suddenly everyone was singing along to the raunchy song, well, the teens and young adults were but not her and the older people.

(Y/N) shoved Kyle off as she got up and ran towards the speakers. “WAP IS NOT AN APPROPRIATE SONG TO PLAY AT A POOL PARTY! THERE ARE CHILDREN PRESENT! TIMOTHY JACKSON, YOU GET BACK HERE WITH THAT IPHONE! TURN IT OFF!”

***

She smiled sweetly at her family and friends passed out in the living room, pillows and blankets thrown everywhere, arms slung over bodies, heads on stomachs and backs. It was nice to see them all so comfortable with each other, so tightly knit; it reminded her of a better time.

Most of the adults had gone home though some had stayed in extra rooms. She was sure that her brother and him had gone down to the cave to have it out just for the hell of it, but she was rather tired and decided to call it a night—though it was actually one am.

Closing the door behind her, she didn’t bother to go shower, planning to do it in the morning as she started stripping. First went the swimsuit cover, then the top and bottoms. She kicked her flip-flops off into the corner of the room and stretched her arms above her head, a quiet groan passing her lips as her joints and bones popped.

As she lowered her hands, a hand clamped around her mouth and another wound around her waist, tugging her back and she gasped against their palm, starting to struggle when she heard them chuckle. The sound, combined with the familiar smell of sandalwood wafting up her nose told her who it was, and they smiled against her ear. “Worried?”

She reached up and yanked his hand from her mouth, hissing, “You’re lucky I didn’t turn around and punch the shit out of you, K.”

“Promises, promises,” he murmured, pressing a kiss behind her ear and she shivered against his chest.

“What are you doing in here? I thought you and Bruce went to go spar?”

Ghost-Maker hummed, the hand around her waist starting to squeeze the flesh of her side. “We did. He said he was tired and went to bed.”

“And you didn’t go home?” her voice kicked up a notch when his other hand slipped from her grip and slid down her front.

“I didn’t want to go home.” He pressed his front against her rear and she gasped, one of her hands coming back to grab at his thigh, digging her nails in to keep him there. He smirked as she ground back against him. “Seems like you don’t want me going home either.”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly. “Something’s up with you tonight. You’re being a lot more…passionate than usual.”

He nipped at her neck, fingers delicately dancing over her abdomen. “I don’t like that Green Lantern friend of yours.”

“Who? Kyle?” she questioned confusedly. “Why?”

“He’s very free with himself towards you.”

At that, it was crystal clear, and she spun in his arms, looking at him, though she had to strain to see his face. “Are you jealous?”

“No.” He griped, though the way his jaw set, told her the truth.

“You are!” she laughed. “You’re jealous that I’m close with other men. That’s adorable.”

Ghost-Maker stared at her for a split moment, then he bent down and grabbed her legs, throwing her over his shoulder. (Y/N)’s gasp turned into a laugh as he marched towards the bed and tossed her onto it, watching as she rolled onto her back and laughed some more at him.

“God, you’re green, K.” she giggled, watching with hooded eyes as he shucked the swim trunks down to his feet and crawled onto the bed.

“I’m not envious of a glow-stick who’s never gotten this far with you.” He countered, grabbing her ankles; he yanked her down the bed and underneath him and she gazed up at him.

“Do you wanna know how many men have gotten this far with me?” (Y/N) challenged and Ghost-Maker stared into her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter how many because once I’m done with you, you won’t remember anyone but me.” He lowered his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her stomach, trailing downwards and she panted in anticipation when,

CRASH!

They started, and this time, he did too, both turning to the door, then to each other.

“What the hell—”

“OH SHIT! SOMEONE PUT OUT THE FIRE!”

(Y/N) grunted. “Oh my God, what did they do?”

“DON’T JUST STAND THERE! OH MY GOD SOMEONE CALL NINE-ONE-ONE! OR THE FIRE DEPARTMENT!”

“AUNT (Y/N)! DAD!”

She rolled out from underneath Ghost-Maker, ignoring his grabbing for her and she hurried to her door, yanking the bathrobe from the hook on the back. Slinging it on, she turned and pointed at the man. “Once I’m done out here, I’m coming back and you’re not going anywhere for a few hours.”

He smirked as he collapsed onto his back, taking himself in his hand. She almost burst into flames at the sight, and he purred, “You might wish to hurry, (Y/N). Wouldn’t want to miss anything.” His words tipped into a groan as his hand shifted along himself, and she scowled at him as she pulled the door open, his erotic frame illuminating in the hall light.

“You’d better watch it, K. We both know how mean I can get when I miss out.”

[4dtk]

NCT127 falling in love with a s/o with a time-consuming job like a lawyer or a doctor

NCT 127 with an s/o who has a time-consuming job

this is so cute, thanks for requesting! i made this in a format in the ways that the boys might show their care when you’re so busy with your job :) long as hell LOL enjoy!!

brief spoilers for shang-chi if you haven’t watched! i just watched it this week lol it was really good

→ TAEIL would direct conversations to a more neutral stance. it’s not that he wants to talk about himself, but sometimes if you don’t want to talk about your case or patients, he easily slips into conversation about theories or his favourite tv show or your rundown of what groceries to take for the next time you head to the supermarket. just really normal small things that take your mind off the stress, especially at night when you’re laying in bed and just before you’re drifting off to sleep, the two of you would engage in a topic that you both know fairly well about and then you’re usually the first to succumb to sleep. taeil purposely picks out topic he knows will excite you (and bc he knows you’re passionate about it, he reads up on it which allows a well-balanced convo). if you’re rambling on about a topic, then he’ll occasionally play the guitar while laying down, just simple melodies that bring a lot of peace to the room.

“wait- how d’you like this melody?” taeil softly says, changing it instantly when you commented on the previous, discordant one. your nod encourages him to carry on with the plucking of his fingers while you yourself continue with your rambles. “so i’m saying right, it seems totally unfair for him, and you’d think that, right? but all he ever does is whine and moan about his misfortunes, plus his character is so terribly written i kinda feel sorry for-“

the halted melody prompts a sharp turn of your turn to the guitar, which you almost collide with, “what?” taeil only shrugs. “nothin’. just like how passionate you get about the show, it’s cute.” your boyfriend smiles after, ignoring how his words affect you and how your cheeks heat up at it.

→ JOHNNY is one to take you out after your work. it’s not to a super intense, high-energy place like a club or anything, but small little dates that won’t take up much time. eating dinner at a restaurant, walk in the park, small cafe trip, strolling through supermarket to make fun of brand names. if you’re too tired that day, he always finds a way to make your time at home fun. from setting up a small karaoke session, to maybe making a pillow fort, to trying out new cuddling positions, he has everything on his mind. always showing you things to cheer you up if you happen, from memes to funny videos. is low-key down for you to review crime/doctor shows too, just to see how accurate they nail it. your time at home is consuming endless pieces of media until your tummies hurt or you’re sniffling at a movie together.

“hold on- lemme show you this video,” johnny’s hand is outstretched to you once he finds the video and your spoon full of food is left near your mouth. you proceed to watch the low quality video which your boyfriend claims to be the funniest video on earth.

W-HOR? WAH? the girl’s finger in the video traces over the word “who” as she struggles to pronounce it, with presumably her sister in the background prompting her. the repeated pronunciation of the word makes you snort, while the wheezing and the loud NO in the background causes you to fully erupt into laughter. johnny simply smiles at another successful attempt to make you smile.

→ YUTA always has a hand on you when you return home. he brings you into a hug, he guides you by your back, you have to eat with one hand bc he can’t keep his hand off of you. he hopes his little touches will ease your tiredness even by a bit and if you don’t want it, he’ll stop, but it’s yuta’s way of showing he cares without words. busy days with yuta usually involve just sitting in silence as you catch up on a show or a series, or even listening to a song in silence and enjoying each other’s company. he will talk if you want to, but if not that’s fine too, preferring more to stroke your hair in silence and think about how much he loves you. becomes very sappy when you’re in the quiet of your room and generally is very fond of the small pockets of time you get to spend before you two fall asleep. likes that you’re so resolute in your job but can be soft around him behind closed doors.

“you comfortable?” yuta calls out, barely above a whisper as he wraps an arm tighter around you. there’s comfortable ministrations that his does with his fingers, massaging the skin under your pajamas while you snuggle deeper into his chest. humming, you tighten your hold around his top.

“i am, yeah,” you can’t care much for the tv show on the screen now, with empty takeout boxes and tissues littering the coffee table. you feel the gentle kiss of yuta on your head before you’re drifting off to dreamland to a scratchy, 60s jazz song playing through the speakers.

→ TAEYONG would always welcome you back with a table set and food ready, always. he knows that food is the way to someone’s heart and you eating his food always makes him happy and offers to clean-up. lets you shower first if you come back together, puts you before himself very often that sometimes you have to tell him to tone it down because you don’t want him ending up more tired than he already is. following up on this, taeyong would show his love by cooking your lunches for you. when he has the time he makes the effort to put it in a nice bento or box for you to eat. he also does the general chores around the house (assuming the two of you live together) so the bed will be a little less messy when you come back, the floor’s cleaner, the countertops aren’t so cluttered with stuff. even if there’s nothing to clean up, he always these small little things before you come back, and even if you don’t notice it, he sees the way you’re able to navigate the space or when you’re more at ease and it makes him smile.

“do you want to shower first?” taeyong calls out softly, admiring the clean house he’s managed to do up before he went to meet you, “i’ll just hang around until you’re done.”

“you need to prioritise yourself too, yong,” you pout, rubbing a hand up and down his forehead as you toe off your shoes, “how ‘bout we shower together? you did clean the house up pretty nicely.” that earns a grin and a kiss from taeyong, who goes straight the prepare the bath. you chuckle, “he’s already forgotten what i’ve told him.”

→ DOYOUNG supports you silently and listens to your day when you return home and talk about your patient or a case you’re working on. he gives you his own input when he sees fit but other than that he wants you to explain the details. being a doctor and lawyer is crazy and hectic and just wants you to know that you’re appreciated in the workforce. the way he might show his love when caring for a busy s/o like you is when he brings you stuff that you might’ve forgotten like an umbrella or your lunch since you were rushing out of the house earlier. he doesn’t mind going the extra mile to you literally bc it’s a win-win! you get your food, he gets to see you, etc. if not he’ll send someone over to pass it to the receptionist, or he’ll make up for it by meeting you outside the office to apologise and then ask you what you wanna do so he can make it up to you.

“did you manage to get the bento i bought you?” doyoung asks worriedly through the phone, holding up a hand to the staff member who was beckoning him to his photoshoot. “you bought so much!” you exclaim, with a shoulder to your ear, phone perched in between, “thank you doyoung.”

“’m sorry i couldn’t come over to give you your lunch today, angel. i’ll see you after you’re done with work, okay?” you smile at that, shooting a quick reply before you delved into your food.

→ JAEHYUN would honestly serve you once you come back from a busy day tbh. where taeyong does the chores around the house, jaehyun helps by doing the chores on YOU and only you. giving you massages, bringing you dinner on a tray, other unsaid things… and maybe even carrying you from room to room lol he’s relentless and just goes you need to rest, lemme help. big gentleman even when you reject him, doing smaller things like constantly checking up on you, pulling the blanket higher onto your body, cuddling you closer to his body when it’s cold. on top of that jaehyun also one that would meet you at your workplace and take you out like johnny, but those dates are extremely chill. he lets you choose, and when you’re not sure, he takes you on a night picnic at the field or a rooftop, just dinner, but outside bc the view is really nice and he likes the way you look even after a long day of working.

“where should we park our mats?” your head moves from left to right, looking for a suitable spot while you tug on jaehyun’s hand. he hums at it, searching for a spot just like you are. the wind’s blowing gently when you settle near a tree, mat occasionally flying up which you counter with your heavy laptop bag.

“any idea where we can get desserts later?” you call out as a half-joke, not expecting jaehyun to pull up his phone to instantly search for a baskin robbins. “there’s one close-by, wait here for a minute and i’ll go get one for you-“ you laugh before pulling him back down, “don’t worry! we’ll go together, plus i don’t want to be left alone.” jaehyun softly smiles, nodding along as he takes out the food he packed.

→ JUNGWOO has similar intentions like johnny, except he would just wanna stay home. where johnny’s goal is to make you laugh, jungwoo just likes doing things together at home. playing board games, folding the clothes together, making dinner together. it’s not that he doesn’t want to do it, but when he’s given free time he sometimes just likes to laze at home and rest from schedules. he sometimes takes himself out of bed to help before you come back but he’s lazy lolol. loves it when you’re both equally tired and living off 5h of sleep. it’s not romanticising the lack of sleep but your schedules just don’t allow you to sleep equal amounts of hours of sleep. through that, you’re at least able to connect over sleepy talk and droopy smiles while you make the bed or assemble a lego piece or playing video games. if jungwoo’s energetic enough he doesn’t mind doing the crazier activities but he generally prefers those activities done in semi-silence while you exchange jokes and funny videos.

“noooo- no! you only need to move three times, you’re cheating-“ jungwoo pouts and moves back your playing avatar back three spaces on the board game. you purse your lips, not expecting him to see it since he was particularly invested in the movie playing on the screen. knowing it was a shitty film, you tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted. with eyes glued to the screen a few seconds earlier, you took your chance to move down one more space in order to get the benefit on the game board.

“you’ll get to buy a house soon, honey,” jungwoo grins cheekily, laughing even more when he’s able to move four steps, landing on the square that you wanted. now it was your turn to pout as he flips the card for property purchases, happily placing it next to his five other houses. “you’re so annoying!” you say as you fall back on the bean bag, but jungwoo doesn’t believe it when he sees a smile poking out from behind the hands shielding your face..

→ MARK sends you a looooot of texts. your convos with him are just him spamming questions or sending you memes. on every platform LMAO he has tweets sent, ig dm’s are blowing up from the weirdass nct memes that some of the fans make, he uses the official nct tiktok account to send you viral trending videos and he’s like we should try this!!!! and it’s a couple doing acrobatics or some shit. he’s crazy. anyway, he just likes to share things with you, from songs, to playlists, to youtube videos or interesting topics like crime psychology or movie theories etc. he knows that you’re hardly going to see it in your job but he sees the way you react across the room when he sends you stuff so he’s sure that you’ll like it after you get off work. sometimes likes to rickroll you, he knows it’s an old trend/troll thing but the thrill of seeing your frustrated replies always make him laugh out loud. when you’re back home, the both of you review whatever you send each other and then laugh together at them.

“hey, babe, check out this video,” mark says in a text, pasting a twitter link to a video. the video starts out interesting enough, mentioning something about a fun fact with stunning visuals has you wanting to learn more. when the guy in the video starts on his first word, the video immediately changes to rick astley with never gonna give you up. you mutter a small fuck under your breath, gaining a bit of attention from your colleagues during lunch break.

under the table, you flip him off in a picture, which he responds with a big smile of his that’s obviously teasing you for falling for it. you’re going to get it when i get back home!!!!! on a new high, you text the message and set your phone down, already excited for the evening where’d you be able to spend your time with him.

→ HAECHAN is a mix of everything kinda. he’d bring you out after work sometimes and other times likes to stay at home, mainly takes you out to eat after work, but that’s the extent of his after-work-escapades, he doesn’t want to tire you out too much. i think one prominent things he likes to do to is vlog to you, send you videos of what he’s doing on set or at home and just treats your convo like a bank for endless videos. y’know how there’s this video feature in telegram? he sends sooo many of those that you have the time of your life watching those on the ride back home. if you have time, you HAVE to facetime him during your lunch break and tell him how you’re doing and how’s your work coming along. do i have to kick someone’s ass for making you feel uncomfortable? is that patient being creepy again? and you have to explain that haechan, no, that patient is an elderly you cannot beat his ass. he’s like i don’t care, creepy dudes are not excused!!! and you can’t help but smile at that. always wants to be talking to you, close to you. if one day, you’re able to bring him to your job, this man follows you around like a lost puppy and just admires what you do, it’s endearing.

“ah, wait- you know how the sister, xia ling was sent to shut down the ten rings army? well… i just reviewed some of the articles and-“ the video cuts into the next one, haechan’s face zoomed in as he looks straight into the camera, “y’know, she might become a villain one day, i don’t know. maybe i should review some of the comics too?”

“anyway! come look at our set for the music video! it’s sexy, outfits are fire, sets are so good, the choreo this time isn’t too hard, either.” haechan asks the other members to wave as he passes them by, no doubt going his own make-up and hair after the others were already done, “okay, gotta go- love you bye!” you smile at that, texting a quick reply before you open up a video of your own, whispering through the speaker with a promise that you’d see him tonight.

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Sleeping together

Series masterlist

Word count: 2497

Genre: Soft angst and fluff

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: A lot of mentions of sex but it is never in a sexual way, brief mentions of past sexual abuse/consent issues (let me know if I need to add any)

Chapter summary: You and Natasha have a bit of a miscommunication but you talk it out and your date night goes much better than planned.

A/n: Okay so this is part five in the flustered series so I finally decided to turn it into a proper series and hopefully by the time this is out I have edited the previous chapters to add proper links and stuff. I forgot who asked for a part five, it might have been an anon, but I hope that person likes it! Because this series isn't planned, I don't have an end goal so if people want more I'll write more but I don't have to if nobody is interested. As with every chapter in this series you don't have to read any of the other chapters for it to make sense, but I do recommend reading them. I hope you enjoy!

“Pass me the plates,” you tell her, reaching over to grab the stack from her hands and carry it over to the sink. She follows and hugs you from behind as you wash, which makes it much more difficult to move but you are definitely not going to complain.

“Hurry up,” she mumbles, resting her head against your back, near where your shoulders meet your neck.

“So demanding,” you tease, “maybe I could be faster if a certain somebody wasn’t restricting my movement.”

“Fine then, you won’t get any hugs,” she says, taking a step back and giving a small laugh when you frown. “I need to set up Netflix first anyways.”

You still frown a little but focus on finishing the dinner cleanup as soon as possible so you can go cuddle with her on the couch. Even after months you still can’t believe that you’re allowed to do things like that. She means absolutely everything to you and although you still haven’t told the rest of the team yet you want to move forward in your relationship a little bit. Which brings you to your current problem; how to ask Natasha to stay the night.

You’re trying not to think about it too much because if you do you know you’ll end up chickening out and you really want to know what it feels like to cuddle as you fall asleep and to wake up next to her. You’ve imagined the smell of her hair in the mornings would be like far more times than you would like to admit. You can’t really help it, there’s something about her that makes you want to always be around her and hug her and protect her from the world. It’s ridiculous you know, she’s a complete badass and you already spend a ton of time together but you want more, as selfish as that sounds.

“The Office or Lucifer?” she asks, scrolling through to get to your continue watching list. “Y/n?”

You curse yourself realizing you heard the question but didn’t actually answer. “Oh um, The Office if that’s alright with you.”

“I wouldn’t have presented that as an option if it wasn’t.” she responds. “Now come here.”

To her obvious displeasure instead of sitting right next to her like always you take the far end of the couch, playing with your hands nervously.

“I was wondering if you would maybe like to stay the night after.” you say, watching her reaction carefully.

“Sleep together?” Her voice and face are blank so you can’t read her reaction at all.

“Yeah.”

Your throat tightens nervously as it seems to take hours to respond when really it’s just a few (way too long) seconds.

“Okay.” She says finally, a little unsure.

“Okay?” You ask in confirmation, relieved.

She nods and says more firmly, “Okay.”

You smile and scoot over on the couch so you’re beside her as normal, wrapping your arm around her shoulders to pull her towards you. She presses play before setting the remote down and relaxing into your body.

---

After a few episodes you’re almost fully stopped paying attention to the show and it seems Natasha is having the same problem. The show is amazing, you love it, but nothing can ever compare to having the girl of your dreams in your arms so ignoring it completely you lean over and give her a kiss.

She responds eagerly and when you move to pull away for air she doesn’t let you, wrapping her hands around the back of your head to make sure you can’t leave. You smile into the kiss and give in to her demands for more, gently pulling back and leaning your head against hers after a couple of minutes.

“Bedroom?” you ask, knowing both of you are done with the show.

She hesitates for a split second, so quickly that you wonder if you made it up. “Bedroom.” she confirms.

She leads the way and you trail behind, stopping as you remember to turn off the tv and lights before joining her. She seems nervous as she sits down on the bed and you sit down on the bed beside her, trying to calm her but it seems to have the opposite effect which is strange because usually your presence comforts her.

“What’s wrong?” you ask gently.

“Nothing.” she lies. You can tell that there’s something she’s not telling you but you don’t want to push her so you back off.

“Okay, just if you need to talk…”

She smiles a bit. “I know, thank you.”

You lose yourself in her smile a little, staring at her face. She’s really pretty, it makes you lose your proper train of thought.

“I love you.” you tell her.

“You mean the world to me.” she says back. She still hasn’t told you she loves you yet but it’s okay because you can read between the lines and know she is just as serious about you, it’s just hard for her to say those words.

Leaning in to kiss her gently you expect to pull away quickly so you can get ready for bed but she deepens the kiss. You have no complaints so you kiss back harder, one hand on the back of her neck the other weaving through her hair. She makes a small noise of happiness and tries to pull you closer with her hands on your hips. Her hands move as you continue to makeout and the tips of her fingers tease the hemline of your shirt. You gasp at the cold feel of them as she slips them just under the edge but she pretends nothing is happening and swallows your gasp, focusing your attention back to her mouth.

For a second you forget about her hands but you gasp again when you feel them move upwards. It’s not bad per say but it’s the first time Natasha has done this so it’s surprising. You had always assumed she wasn’t interested in the sexual parts of a relationship because she complained about how people are only in it for sex and has never expressed interest in it before.

Reluctantly you pull back slightly, breathing hard. “Tasha.”

She frowns and retracts her hands a little. “What? Am I doing it wrong.”

“No, no,” you reassure, “it’s good. But I just wanted to make sure that this is what you want.”

“You mean sex?” she asks and you nod. “We’re in a relationship so of course we will have sex.”

“We don’t have to just because we’re in a relationship.” you tell her.

She frowns again, confused. “But I thought this is what you want.”

“I only want it if you want it.” you say. It worries you how she talks about sex as if it’s something that has to be done just because you’re in a relationship and you might want it. You want to punch whoever made her think it doesn’t matter what her wants are.

“But you said you wanted to earlier.” she says in explanation, looking away. “I’m sorry, I just thought you did.”

“Tasha,” you reach out an arm to touch her so she turns back to you, “first of all, I have no idea what you’re talking about and second of all you did nothing wrong, you don’t have to apologize.”

“You wanted to sleep together tonight.” she tells you. “You said you wanted me to spend the night and I asked if you wanted to sleep together and you said yes.”

Your eyes widen when you realize how your earlier conversation sounded. “I’m so dumb, I meant it in the literal sense of just sleeping.” you tell her, laughing slightly at your mistake.

“Oh.”

“A good oh or a bad oh?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” she says, “Is it because you don’t want me?”

It’s your turn to be unsure. “I never really thought of it much to be honest because I didn’t think that sex is what you wanted.”

“I’m fine with it if you want it.” she says and you look at her sadly.

“No,” you tell her, “you shouldn’t have to be fine with it.”

“I don’t hate it,” she insists, “just because I’d rather not doesn’t mean I won’t sometimes. Our relationship is more important to me than not having sex.”

“And our relationship is more important to me than having sex.” you counter. “All I want is for you to be comfortable.”

“Are you sure?” she asks and there’s a dull pain in your heart because you can’t bear to see her so hesitant. You don’t want to imagine the number of people over the years who hadn’t respected her boundaries or who had demanded things that she went along with even when she didn’t want to.

“I’m very sure Tasha.” you say, looking into her eyes so she knows you’re telling the truth. “We can talk about it more tomorrow but right now I want to sleep with my girlfriend in the literal sense and maybe cuddle if you want that.”

“I like cuddling.” she says and you laugh at the way she says cuddling, like she’s embarrassed to admit it.

“Good because I like it too.” you tell her. “Would you like to go back to your room to get something to wear to bed or are you fine with some of my stuff?”

“Your stuff is fine.” she says so you get up and ruffle through your drawers. For yourself you just grab your usual pyjama pants and a t-shirt and for her you find some sweatpants and a t-shirt from college. Maybe it's a little self indulgent that it’s the one thing you own that has your name on it but sue you if you want her to wear it. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t mind when you hand it to her so it’s not like it’s a big deal anyways.

You both sort of stand awkwardly looking at each other when you have your pyjamas, unsure of what to do but after a few seconds you turn around to give her privacy and start changing, not knowing if she’s doing the same. When you turn back she’s already changed and you gesture wordlessly to the bathroom that is attached to your bedroom so you can finish getting changed.

Luckily the last time you bought toothbrushes they came in a three pack so you’re able to find an extra one for Natasha and you both brush your teeth in silence before taking turns washing your faces. As you finish you turn off the water but instead of drying your hands you flick them at her playfully so the water lands on her. She scowls with her lips but laughs with her eyes at your antics, making her way out of the bathroom and back to your bed.

“Left or right?” you ask her.

“I don’t care really.”

“Okay then, I’ll take the right.” you say brightly because that is your favourite side.

“I was hoping you would say that, I secretly wanted the left.” she admits, climbing into bed after you.

“It works out perfectly then.” you say, smiling at her. You don’t know if you should make the first move to cuddle or you should wait for her. She did say earlier that she liked that but you don’t want to make it seem like you’re pressuring her.

Luckily for you you don’t have to stress out for too long because she hesitantly moves closer so her side is slightly touching yours so you take that as an invitation to shift and pull her closer so that you’re the big spoon and she’s the little spoon.

“Is this okay?” you ask just to be sure and she nods. It feels nice to hold her and you could get used to this but for now you’re too jittery to fall asleep first. You just want to stay up all night so you don’t lose any time spent cuddling.

She’s cute as she falls asleep. First her breaths deepen a little but then she lets out quiet snores, not enough to bother you but just enough to make you giggle. You didn’t expect the Black Widow to snore but somehow it’s fitting.

---

You feel something shaking you but you feel too sleepy to figure out what it is so you try to roll over only to find yourself trapped by arms.

“Y/n,” you hear Natasha whisper, “are you awake?”

You open your eyes and can faintly see the outline of Natasha’s face in the dark. “I am now, what is it?”

She’s silent for a minute and you take the time to try to focus your eyes more, rubbing at them until you can see properly. She is peering down at you with an expression you can’t place. It looks nervous but happy at the same time.

“Tasha?” you ask, trying to prompt her into speaking.

She takes a deep breath. “I love you.”

“I love you Tasha.” you say back immediately, knowing that she needs to hear it so she’ll stop gnawing at her lip nervously.

“I love you so much Y/n.” she says. “I’m sorry for waking you up but I was awake and wanted to tell you and would have chickened out if I didn’t do it now.

“Don’t apologize.” you tell her, reaching up to gently trace the side of her face with your hand. “I’m glad you could tell me because I love you so much.”

“I’m glad I could finally tell you, I’ve been wanting to ever since you first said it to me on our rooftop date.” she admits. “And I want to tell the team about us now if you still want to.”

“I don’t think they would appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night just so we can tell them we’re dating.” you joke. “But I definitely want to tell them still.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

You both nod awkwardly at each other for a second before bursting out in laughter. You feel light, like the stupidest thing could make you laugh because you’re in such a good mood. Natasha loves you. You! She could have pretty much anyone but she loves you. You know that it isn’t that much of a step in your relationship and that she already chose you but you didn’t expect how giddy you would feel when you heard her say it.

“Oomph.” You let out a noise and Natasha collapses on top of you before rolling off.

“Sorry.” she giggles, not sounding very sorry at all.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say sarcastically, “now we should get some more sleep.”

You open your arms and she moves back into them like how you were when you first fell asleep. You feel overwhelmed by everything Natasha and you fall asleep to her cute snoring sounds and her hair that smells really good. You don’t think you’ve ever felt happier.

---

<<<previous chapter // next chapter>>>

[cuddlesslut]

Silence

Part Two to Home

Atsumu x Fem Redaer

Summary: Atsumu deals with the aftermath

Warnings: Angst, NSFW, Slight smut, Atsumu is an Ass

AN/ UNEDITED. this is just a portrayal of Atsumu for this work not how I actually perceive him

The will be a Part Three.

Part One: Home

Part Three: Memories

Atsumu cursed himself as you ran out the restaurant. He knew he was getting to cocky. Frustration was taking over his body as he sat back down at the table. He ran his hand over his face as let out a heavy sigh before looking up at her. Yuki ,his most recent girlfriend, sat there loss for words. He could see the tears building in her eyes. Obviously she was confused it’s not like she knew anything about you he had courted her like all the others under the disguise of being single. He racked his brain he knew he had been careless lately. Normally you’d never notice his infidelity he’d been doing it for quite sometime now and for so long you were none the wiser. He’d find some chick take her either back to her place or a hotel have his fun and be gone only repeating the same girl maybe twice at most three times if she was a really good lay. He’d make sure no marks were left and he was clean up before heading home to you his unsuspecting fiancé. Yuki was different though she was the first woman to actually catch his attention in more than just a sexual capacity. Don’t get him wrong the sex with her was amazing but he also found himself enjoying her company wanting to spend more and more time with her. He curses maybe if he hadn’t been so stupid and forgot your birthday everything would be fine. Being so pissed at the situation he failed to worry about Yuki’s feelings as she finally broke the silence.

“Tsmu I don’t get it, we’ve been together for eight months how could you cheat on me,” she sniffled tears starting to stream down her face as her usually charming boyfriend sat across from her looking at her with annoyance.

He scoffed looking at her pitiful state. If he wasn’t already so fed up with the situation he was sure he could use his silver tongue to get out of this situation and have her back at his side momentarily, but no he needed to save all his effort and false reassurances for you.

“Oh sweetheart I didn’t cheat on you,” he gave a little chuckle, “That’s was my fiancé , I’ve been with her for six years what makes you think eight months means anything, you were the side piece darling.” He saw the hurt on her face and knew he had just been a complete ass but he couldn’t find it in him to care right now although he was sure he would later. That hurt turned to anger as she stood and threw her drink in his face.

“You are an ASSHOLE Atsumu!” She yelled finally losing what composer she was keeping before storming away out the same door you had just previously exited.

Yeah I guess I am he thought as wiped his face the rag before signaling for the check. Looking at the glass that contained your ring he thought of all the Pinterest boards you had saved of rings and dresses and different color schemes. He thought of the excitement and love in your eyes when he finally proposed. He plucked the ring out of the drink before pocketing it and heading home.

As he entered your shared home he realized he had guessed right you weren’t there. He pulled out his phone, pulling up your contact and hitting call. It wouldn’t connect. He let out the breath he was holding, so you had already blocked him he thought. He walked to their room wanting to change out of his wet dress shirt. He immediately noticed the most of your drawers were empty and your half The closet was looking sparse. He wondered if you were coming back for the rest. Part of him was sure you would, you would come back where else could you go. Yet somewhere deep in his mind part of him was screaming at the idea of you being gone. But he wouldn’t let that part surface. He walked out to the kitchen noticing the box of onigiri left out along with his brother’s birthday note to you. He rolled his eyes of course Osamu remembered. That’s probably where you are ,now that he thinks about it, that or your heading to Suna that’s who you always ran to he grimaced.

Thinking back to high school when the two of you had first gotten together he had introduced you to the team. You and Suna just clicked it was like you had been friends all of your lives the way you easily laughed and joked together. He had never seen anyone pull Suna from his shell the way you had and he still hadn’t. Not a single one of the middle blockers previous significant others had ever pulled the same reaction from the stoic man as you had. It didn’t take Tsumu long to realize the fool was head over heels for you. But it’s didn’t matter to him you were completely oblivious to blockers affections, as well as the fact that you were dutifully loyal to the setter. He wasn’t worried because what was Suna compared to him.

While he figures he should call either of the two to make sure you are indeed safe, he doesn’t feel like getting a lecture right before bed. He grabs his glass of water before heading to bed. Noticing how cold the mattress is without you. It’s fine he thinks he doesn’t need you. He knew that fact from the countless woman he’d beded in the last few years. Plus he’s sure you’ll come back. He’s the only man you’ve ever loved.

———

Atsumu wakes the next morning to find the house eerily quiet. He pays little mind to it before heading off to the gym he has a game today he can’t allow himself to be distracted. The setters normal routine isn’t disrupted for the most part. Finding his team doing his warm ups. He does however run into Osamu at the gym he’s setting up his vendors stand for Onigiri Miya. His brother says nothing of you to Atsumu minus some well wishes. So you must have ran to Suna he muses. His game goes off with out a hitch securing the victory for MSBY.

He finds the house just as he left it no trace of you having step foot back into your home. He checks his phone looking for a sign that you want to talk. No messages or calls. He decides to try and check you location but it seems that your number is no longer connected to his plan. He furrows his brow it seemed like a big step but he brushes it off his mind. He had just won a big game he wanted to celebrate. Usually he’d have dinner with you either going out or indulging in your delicious home cooking, you both share smiles about the game either her gushing about her favorite moments had she attended the game which normally she’d try to make a priority, although there were times you’d have class or work and you have to miss in which you’d sit and listen to him starry eyed as he retold the highlights of the game. You look at him like he was a star shooting across the sky. But right now the kitchen was empty and the house was silent missing the awes of your praise. It was to much at the moment. The setter changes into something dashing before heading out he’ll grab something to eat and then maybe get a celebratory drink.

That’s how Atsumu found himself here at some sleek bar with a glass of scotch in his hand. He surveyed the bar watching the people around dance and talk and go about their night. He try’s not to think about the silence waiting for him at home .That’s until he spots a girl. She look kind of like you similar build although her hair is longer and a slightly different hue. He knows it’s not you but still that hasn’t stopped him before so he slides his way over to her.

“Hi there,” he smiles a charming smile. She looks up at him giving a sly smile. From here he can see her eyes they’re nothing like yours, he shakes the thought from his head. “You know your boyfriend really shouldn’t leave you all alone like this you are much to beautiful,” if he a a nickel for every time he used that line he could probably retire early. He could see a slight blush appear on her cheeks.

“I would tell him but I don’t have one Mr. — ,” she trailed off leaving an opening for his name.

“Miya,” he smiles a bright fake smile. “And you are?” He questions.

“Chiyo,” she smile subtly biting her lip as her eyes raked down his figure. It’s almost too easy he thinks to himself.

“Well Chiyo-San may I buy you a drink?” He not so subtly eyes her as well.

And that how he got here for the first time ever he brought a woman home to your bed. Their body’s mashed together. Their clothes strewn around the house leading a trail to the bedroom. The recently quiet house filled with grunts and moans. “Miya-San,”she cry’s out and he has to try not to roll his eyes. She might look like you but she sounds nothing like you. You always makes the prettiest gasps and mewls as he worked your body over. She doesn’t feel like you, he can’t remember the last time you were together like this breathless underneath him. He shakes his head trying to rid himself of the thoughts. He’s confused he never compared you before with is flings you were always separate from his mind when the slept with other women. Frustrated with his thoughts he pulls out flipping the chick ,what was her name Chizu? , over on her knees before pounding into her relentlessly pushing her face in to the mattress as he took frustrations out. Her moans get louder as his face scrunches up in annoyance. It’s not long before he’s finished them both off and she laying there breathless as he throws away the condom. He see her make herself a little more comfortable on his bed he shared with you. He cringes.

“Hey Chizu, uh it’s probably best if you get going,” he states pulling a pair of sweatpants on.

He can see the disgust on her face. “My name is Chiyo asshole!” She says grabbing her clothes on as she start out the door.

Normally he’d care that he’d at least said the wrong name. But right now he just laid on the bed staring at the ceiling. The silence was back.

———

It has been two weeks since you left. He hadn’t heard from you, you never came back for your stuff. He hasn’t heard from Suna yet either although he figures the ass is to busy trying win and mend your broken heart. It’s only been two weeks but those two weeks without you were torture. He realized very quickly how much comfort you brought to him. How much he relied on you. All the mornings you’d spend cuddled together drinking your morning coffee. Although that had been less recent while he busying himself with Yuki. He missed the delicious meals you’d cook. Or the way you’d take care of him if he’d train to hard. He misses seeing you at the desk studying away your tongue poking out ever so slightly as you concentrated. He misses your laugh that would fill the house as you watched whatever anime you were currently bingeing always asking him to join you. You were always the one looking out for him making sure that he ate and rested. Always handling the groceries and the house work. The place was a mess without you he was a mess with out you. He misses the life you brought to the his home. He’s drawn from with wallowing when he hears knocks at the door.

He’s surprised to see his brother and Suna standing on the other side.

“Hey I’ve been trying to get in touch with YN but she’s hasn’t been answering is she here?” Suna asks stepping to his house his brother following behind. Suna stops his face scrunching up at the state of the place. Osamu also notices.

“Damn Tsumu its a mess in here YN let y’all live like this?” His twin asks taking a good look at his disheveled twin. “What happened,” concern crossing his similar features.

Atsumus mind starts to reel a bit. You werent with Suna?

“YN hasn’t been with you?” He looks at the middle blocker he was hoping he knew how you were.

“No,” he states starting to get really worried. “What happened,” there was an edge to his voice.

Atsumu stayed quiet. His brother nudges him but he still looks down. It isn’t until Suna grabs him by his collar that he looks up.

“She left me.”He states.

“That makes no sense YN loves you with everything she has she wouldn’t just leave you, what happened,” Osamu questions again.

“I cheated on her and she found out,” he says. He doesn’t look up but he can feel the rage coming off of Suna and the disappointment from his twin.

“What the fuck do you mean you cheated on her!” he yelled shaking him “for how long!”

The was no use lying and trying to hide it you weren’t coming back he can tell. And even if you would he knew he didn’t deserve you.

“The past 2 years,” he chokes out. Suna let’s go of his collar in disbelief.He breaths getting ready to explain everything but he wasn’t ready when he felt a fist connect with his cheek. He was on the ground rubbing his jaw. He looked up and Suna was seething in anger. His brother looked disgusted with him.

“Where is she,” Suna demanded.

“I don’t know she left two weeks ago I figured she was with you,”

“So lets get this straight you broke her heart and she left you and you didn’t even check to make sure she was safe! Did you ever even love her,” the dark haired middle blocker screamed at his former teammate.Of course he did but he cant say that not after he never showed it. He look down he couldn’t meet his friends eyes he felt so ashamed. He heard a scoff and then the front door slam. Suna was gone. He looked up and saw his brother staring down at him.

“You’re a real piece of shit you know that,” Samu says before he follows out the door.

Sobs tear through Tsumu as he realizes he ruined everything.

He sat there on the floor left in silence.

Home Masterlist

Taglist: @momoinot @multi-fandom-fanfic

[honeyhenry]

Sweet as Pie

With some much needed time off, and excitement crisp in the air, you had flown over to Jersey with your husband Henry for Christmas to stay with his family, and they had been delighted to have you both back on his homeland. You settled in to Henry’s old room, unpacking all of the gifts you had brought for his family. You knew his nieces and nephews were going to love you even more when they saw what would be lying for them under the grand Christmas tree in the living room. Secretly, you were their favourite - not that they’d ever tell their poor Uncle Henry.

The large home is tidy, but scattered with family members in every room, all feeling at home in the place where Henry and his brothers grew up. You’d been able to catch up with the relatives you didn’t often see, and promise to spend some quality time together over the holidays.

It was so sweet to watch all the children’s faces light up on Christmas morning. You were glad that you and Henry could be spared an extra few moments in bed, being the only childless couple in the house. Yet moments later, Kal had leapt onto the bed - much to Henry’s annoyance; “down Kal, careful now” -  as soon as he had heard the pattering of his small friends’ feet out in the hallways. And what Kal wanted, you usually gave him.

Which is why, at 6.45am, Kal dragged you and in turn, dragged Henry down to the living room where the rest of the family sat, with the kids lit up like the Christmas tree that their plethora of presents laid under, grinning to their bleary eyed parents who’d barely had a wink of sleep on the cold winter morning.

“You’d think after 6 years it gets easier” you’d heard someone murmur, and so you’d decided to put the kettle on for those poor souls. Luckily for you, 45 minutes later, you’re able to snuggle back into bed with Henry, warming your feet on his legs to annoy him. You kiss the offended pout right off his face, before feeling his beefy arms wrap around your waist. It’s the last thing you had recalled, as you dozed off in his arms only seconds later, feeling his fingertips rub against your hip softly.

------

The kitchen was bustling with about 10 bodies all completing their various tasks; cooking, washing, baking, roasting, timing and tasting. Well, you had kicked your husband out of the kitchen for sneaking a taste of your dessert before it was ready, chastising him out of the door. 

“You can either help properly or go and play with your siblings” you had bargained while he’d grinned, leaning against the doorframe. He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down like you were a pastry he was keen to ravish himself; “But who is going to compliment the chef?”

With that, you’d folded your arms across your chest, blushing at his words. The cheek of that man was not lost on you, and it still got you every single time. 

And you loved him for it.

------

The meal was a total success. A wonderful soup starter, followed by a small appetiser, and then the most magnificent turkey. Feeding over 20 people - now probably closer to 30 if you were to include the children who were growing up so quickly in front of your eyes - had proven to be difficult, but it was a challenge the family had clearly tackled before.

You had been so excited to prepare the desserts, and present your dish. However, halfway through the day, somewhere between the main course, watching your nephews with their new toys, and the dessert course of the delicious homemade Christmas feast, you’d fallen asleep on the sofa completely tuckered out. Your legs rested on Henry’s lap as he’d covered you with a hand-knitted blanket that he’d once slept with as a boy. Henry’s mother speaks up, careful not to wake you. She has a gleam in her eye, not that you or even Henry notice, too wrapped up in your own cozy sleepy bubble together by the fire.

“Dessert can wait” his mother says to the gaggle of children and adults swarming the living room, “go out and get some fresh air.”

She turns to the children, specifically.  “Do not disturb your Aunt, okay?”

------

Your cheeks are warm as the fire heats the living room, and after a particularly competitive game of rugby with his brothers, nieces, and nephews, Henry quietly checks on you. He had left the room earlier when you had shifted your legs slightly, taking the opportunity to get some fresh air himself. It had indeed been a long day. His brothers had questioned your tiredness briefly, making sure you were well. With the knowledge that you were simply sleepy, they had begun to joke that you obviously just couldn’t keep up with the rest of the Cavills - despite having married into the family for 2 years and been around for the holidays for 4. Henry had promised them that you were fine -  that you still weren’t used to the long trip back to the island for the holidays. 

Not exactly a fib, he’d thought.

Kal was laid beside you, loyal as ever, watching out for anyone who may disturb your rest, sending a rumbling growl towards anyone who approached. Except Henry. 

While checking on you now to make sure you were still comfortable and resting well, he smiled, taking a picture of you wrapped up cosily by the fire, at peace in his childhood home, completely at rest and ease with him and his closest relatives. Petting Kal softly, he thanks him for looking after his mama so well.

“So?”

His mother, he hears. She’s alone for once as there was no one rushing to check for updates on food, no enquiries about the house, or any funny stories woven into a ten minute tale from her grandchildren. She’s alone, with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised.

Henry stands up straight. There’s nothing that can wipe the tremendously cheesy grin off of his face. He can’t even speak. Even after dessert had finished, you were the one who would be doing all the talking, the telling, the explaining.

“Mum-”

“Henry. She’s not ill. and i know you’re sensible enough to not be up the whole night with your wife...at least under my roof. So…?”

He looks over at your peaceful form, and then scratches his neck, blushing at being caught out, but also ecstatic that he can finally say something about it.

“She’s eleven weeks. We’re expecting a baby next summer”

With that, his mother almost leaps with joy over to her son, who she hugs closely despite the obvious height barrier. 

“Oh i knew it, I knew it! I’m so happy for you Henry, for you both. I thought, ‘She normally loves that bread for starter’, hm? Oh my boy! A father!”

With her proclamation, Henry finds that he has tears in his eyes as he holds his Mother close, finally glad that it’s not just a little secret between the two of you - well, the two of you and Kal, who had already been a stellar protector and big brother.

“We had planned to tell everyone after dessert…we’ve known for nearly 2 months and it’s been killing me that I couldn’t say. We’ve had to be so careful-“ 

“Henry?” he hears your quiet voice from across the room, as Kal’s collar jingles. He turns to see you sitting up from your nap with Kal booping his nose at your stomach. You’re scratching at his head, thanking him for being such a wonderful boy, while looking up at the two Cavills.

It takes less than a second for you to realise what is happening in front of you. Your jaw drops and louder than your previous call, you exclaim, “Henry you told her?”

“She worked it out! Practically forced it out of me.” he grins, holding his hands up as his Mother pretends to smack his arm.

You stand, watching not to step on Kal or any stray Legos that your nephews have left strewn across the floor, and walk over to hug her. She’s been so caring and kind since you’ve joined the family all those years ago, and you know that she will be an incredible Grandma to your little one. 

Breaking apart from the hug, you find Henry pulling you to him carefully, letting you melt into his side. Kissing your forehead he asks, for your ears only, “Good sleep? No pains? Sickness?” He has a small crease of worry between his brows and you always do your best to soften that small tense area with regular updates and sweet kisses.

“Yeah i’m okay honey” you reassure him, patting your stomach, “this ones growing up a storm in there”. 

And they really are. Henry’s mother cannot believe she’s seeing it, and mostly can’t believe she missed it. You’re already showing, but a large loose sweater -probably one of Henry’s old ones that has since become yours - over your dress, has hidden a sizeable roundness to your stomach that you were excited to finally show.

“How did I miss this!” Your mother-in-law gasps, causing you to grin, and Henry’s chest to puff with utter pride and excitement.

“I know it’s bordering on having too much to eat, but we’ve been hiding it for a couple weeks now. Doctor thinks that baby’s gonna be big. Just like their daddy.” You explain, giving your stomach another gentle rub, surprised to find Henry’s hand there on it already.

If you’d thought Kal was protective, Henry was another thing altogether.

He’s still grinning as you kiss him, before you pull away to speak more to his mother about all the details, especially when you’ll be coming over to Jersey again. Kai follows you closely, making sure you’re staying safe. He’s known that there’s something up with his mama, there has been for weeks, especially with the way his master looks after you now.

Henry, deciding to be sneaky while the two women in his life are currently distracted chatting, takes another taste of the dessert you made, now set out on the kitchen. The worst part is, he thinks he’s got away with it.

He realises he doesn’t the second you smack his hand from the dessert.

“Strike two Mr Cavill! Step away from the pie.”

“And if I don’t?” he raises an eyebrow, watching your reactions as you hold a butter knife in your hand trying to look at least vaguely threatening - failing miserably. “Maybe i’ll strike out tonight, hm?” he continues with that wonderfully mischievous glint in his eye, taking cautious steps towards you. “You look even sweeter than your pie with this little bump here. Maybe I’ll have a taste later after all.” 

Henry’s mother had not been right in her assumptions, for under her roof, you and Henry were not sensible at all.

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

please let me know what u think! i am v nervous to post but excited!!!

[sharpen-your-hatchet]

Old Wounds - Wenclair fanfic, Chapter 17

Description: Now aged 22, Wednesday Addams is an up-and-coming author. Her time at Nevermore is well behind her, and she is alone, and that suits her just fine...But when a 'new' neighbour shows up in her apartment building, she'll truly be tested on whether her "bad habit" of caring truly has been broken. (Hint: It hasn't.)  

Pairing: Wednesday Addams / Enid Sinclair

Rating: Teens & Up (subject to change in future)

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x-x-x-x-x-x

As expected, Wednesday and Enid’s lazy late-morning leads into a similarly laid back afternoon. 

Being that it is a Saturday, there’s no expectations on them. No plans, no work (aside from some emails that Enid insists she will get to later), and certainly no commitments to anything aside from simply existing. It is perhaps for the best. Though Wednesday feels rested, her brain and body still carry the leaden exhaustion of the previous night and as such she reluctantly agrees their time is best spent doing nothing. Frankly, she despises such frivolous inaction, but much to her chagrin she is only human. 

However, this does welcome more time to spend together; more time with Enid on the couch, ever so gently brushing shoulders. Wednesday is unsure what this new closeness means - the bigger question being if she wants to take it further; if she feels like she could, or should do such a thing…  She thinks occasionally about the hand touch from breakfast. Her chest tightens when she does; it still puzzles her. 

God, she wishes it made sense. Is physical touch really something her mind and body sees as panic worthy? These last 24 hours truly have thrown a lot into chaos, and not in a way she can revel in. Not yet, anyway. 

As for Enid… well, she has not moved in the last two hours following breakfast. Her Nintendo Switch is glued to her face as she runs around some silly fantasy game featuring a skinny elven man who communicates in ludicrous exaggerated yells. Though tired and yawning constantly, Enid is laser focused. 

Wednesday sits besides her reading, albeit distractedly - Between her thoughts, the noise emanating from Enid’s game device, and Enid attempting to explain the narrative to her, Wednesday realises she has little chance of gaining any progress on this particular novel. Normally this would be an annoyance, but Wednesday does not mind in this case. Particularly as Enid’s voice does good in quieting the one inside her own head.  

Besides - with monsters, a dark power corrupting the world, and plenty of weapons, Wednesday admits, this ridiculous little game doesn’t sound all too bad. If only it were a book. Mind you, the heroic elf man would likely be the protagonist, and Wednesday would much rather subscribe to the notion of festering darkness fully overpowering the world… She explains as much to Enid, who simply rolls her eyes with a smile.  

“But Link has to win. That’s just how the story goes,” Enid reasons, lowering her switch to look Wednesday in the eyes. “Link is like…yknow. The link between all the heroes that come before and after him.”  

Wednesday lowers her book, mirroring Enid. “Enid, aside from the ridiculous name that the protagonist holds, there are many things wrong with that logic. Namely that the annoying little elf man could defeat the otherworldly might all by himself. It is nonsensical. His blood would be splattered across the castle in seconds.”

“...There isn’t any blood in this game, Wends.” 

Wednesday frowns. “Then what is there to enjoy about it?” 

A solid ten minute ‘argument’ ensues, though Wednesday finds herself conceding much sooner than she ever usually would. If this were any other debate, she would love to chase her opponents’ opinions, break them down until she wins…but this is Enid. Enid is different. Wednesday knows she cannot let herself slip into bad argumentative habits. She refuses to, in fact. 

And so their lazy afternoon drones on - Wednesday reading; Enid playing, with a quiet buzz of conversation between them. Wednesday takes an intentional and decided interest through-out, and at this, Enid seems much happier. Though it doesn’t last long, as Enid slowly begins drifting back to sleep and at some point abandons her game console all together. Wednesday wisely grabs it before it slides off the couch and places it on the coffee table. 

“I’m still playing,” Enid whines tiredly. She makes a grabby hands gesture towards the device, but stops when Wednesday lightly bats her hands away. 

“You are falling asleep,” Wednesday corrects, watching as Enid struggles to stay awake. “I will not be subject to your tears because you dropped your gaming device…”

Enid pouts, but does not argue back. 

“Okay maybe I am falling asleep,” She admits after a few seconds. She yawns again.

Wednesday looks at her pitifully. It is a shame, but it is clear that Enid needs more rest. 

Although, Wednesday is also somewhat relieved. There’s been a few big developments in the last few hours and perhaps having some time to process it all would be of benefit. Besides, it’s been a decent amount since she’s let herself mentally spiral - She’s due some time staring into nothingness. 

Wednesday stands up, grabbing the blanket that is slung over the back of the couch. She holds it out to Enid, staring at her intently. 

“Bed. Now.” Wednesday states. 

Enid takes the blanket wordlessly and wraps it around her shoulders. Briefly reminded of the night before, Wednesday averts her gaze for a moment, scowling at the strange tightness in her stomach…

Suddenly that time to process her thoughts is looking doubly alluring. 

 Enid catches the glare on Wednesday’s face, and her expression turns apologetic. 

“Are you annoyed with me, Wends?” She asks quietly, “I know you don’t like lazy days, and now I’m just disappearing to bed instead of spending time with you...” 

Wednesday looks back to Enid, wide eyed. Her expression softens. 

“…No.” She replies in a stilted tone, “I guarantee that my ego is not so easily bruised. I was simply thinking about my mother’s intolerable concern as I didn’t call her yesterday.” 

It is a technical truth. Her mother did not receive any reason for their lack of phone call and as a consequence, Wednesday now sits with 4 unread texts requesting her attention. It is therefore a wise decision for Wednesday to make haste and call ASAP… regardless of this, Wednesday is certainly not going to tell Enid about how she now lives with the image of Enid’s naked back imprinted in her brain,  and how it flashed before her eyes once more, and whatever else accompanied it. There is enough going on as it is. 

It is no matter anyway, as Enid replies with a soft smile, accepting Wednesday’s answer. 

“I guess I’ll see you later then?” 

Wednesday nods at her. She collects her belongings from where Enid packed them away and makes her way to the apartment door. She pulls it open and steps out into the hallway. 

“Hey Wends?” Enid calls out. 

Wednesday turns back around to see Enid stood in the doorway. She reaches out and grabs one of Wednesday’s hands, giving it an affectionate squeeze. 

“Thanks again, for everything.” 

Wednesday blinks in surprise, feeling the electricity from Enid’s touch bite at her nerves once more. It is like last time - A mix of conflicting emotions, overpowered by the way Enid’s warmth and tenderness overwhelms Wednesday’s senses… and though it still evokes the same flutter in Wednesday’s chest, it feels less deadly now. In fact, it feels like potential; as though there is space for familiarity in this gesture. Perhaps more than that. 

It is fascinating beyond all measure. 

Wednesday feels the corner of her mouth twitch, her expression unsure of itself. She looks at Enid. 

“Of course.” She says quietly, “Now go rest.” 

Enid smiles and nods. She gives a small wave as she closes the door. 

Wednesday makes the short trip back to her apartment and though this is not where she planned to be, she will admit that being back around her dark decor is soothing. Without the constant colour bleeding into her eyeballs, everything coursing through her brain seems less sharp; more manageable. It is a welcome feeling after everything that has unfolded. 

Wednesday makes quick work for putting away her things, and then follows up with a quick cold shower. Though she intends to then sit at her desk and continue reading, she allows herself the displeasure of laying in the dark on her uncomfortable bedroom floor. It is a useful tool when either her spine needs realigning or she simply needs to think - in this case, it’s both. Especially after all that time she’s spent on Enid’s ridiculously plush couch. 

And so, Wednesday stares up to the ceiling, thinking. 

She checks the time - 3:30pm. There is plenty of time to explore her brain before contacting her mother. Perfect. 

Now it should be said, Wednesday does not find herself particularly miserable at being presented with her now-unfiltered flow of thoughts. Anguish and resentment are better left reserved for those who deserve it - Like whats-his-name from the coffee shop, who insists on Wednesday’s attention like an unloved child. Ugh, it is pathetic. 

What truly lurks in her brain and body currently is confusion; questions seeking answers she cannot reach… and okay, perhaps this confusion does bring about a slight frustration. Wednesday does not enjoy the idea of not understanding her own thoughts. However, she does indulge in the mystery; the chase for answers; the experimentation it brings about… It is this curiosity, this magnetism that keeps her so focused on Enid, and the way she feels when they’re together. 

She and Enid are friends…but are they? Are these electrifying touches, and soft eyed glances beyond the realm of normalcy?  Is it ridiculous to guess as such? These are all things that Wednesday ponders. Enid is… well. She is sunshine made human, painting Wednesday’s grey clouds with silver linings - uniquely immune to the storm, and commanding lightning in her touch. 

Wednesday scowls. She stares daggers into her ceiling. 

What she seeks seems just so cruelly out of reach. 

The human condition is truly a fucked up conundrum. 

She sits up then, a sudden realisation striking her. It is like a sixth sense. She must speak to her mother immediately. 

Wednesday stands and quickly shuffles out of her dark room, to fetch her phone. Though she initially had planned to wait, Wednesday pulls up her Mother’s number and calls it, standing stiffly in anticipation. 

The call is answered moments later. Morticia begins with a slow, questioning greeting but Wednesday has no patience for it. 

“-Mother,” Wednesday interrupts, her voice stern. “I need you to answer a question.” 

There is a slight pause from Morticia, as she resonates on Wednesday’s tone. “Of course, my little raven. What can I help you with?” 

“You requested my attention numerous times over the last 18 hours. What did you see?” 

Morticia hums in question. 

Wednesday huffs. 

“Do not play games. You had a vision. What. Did. You. See?” 

There is a shuffling sound from the other end of the phone, presumably Morticia seating herself after receiving this unexpected call. Wednesday too, takes a seat. There’s a palpable tension that holds itself heavy in her chest. 

Morticia lets out a gentle sigh.

“I saw you… and Enid, and then you again, seeking answers as you are now.” 

Wednesday clenches her jaw. The questions she humoured mere moments ago trickle through her head once more.

“Do you know the mystery that plagues me?” She asks. 

Wednesday already knows the answer. She is a fool for not heeding her mother’s call to attention sooner. 

“Why of course I do,” Comes Morticia’s answer, breathed out in a voice that carries another knowing smile. “My darling, you run yourself in too many circles.” 

Wednesday says nothing. It is a truth that is distasteful to hear. 

Morticia continues. 

“Seeing you and Enid in my vision, there is much that becomes apparent. Are you sure you wish to know?” 

Silence from Wednesday again, but only for a moment. It is a brief hesitation; a question of if these answers are truly what she wants… But she trusts her mother and trusts the truths her positive prophecies foretell. In any case, she is Wednesday Addams and she does not fear the unknown - The unknown should fear her. 

“Tell me.” Wednesday requests plainly.

“You and Enid,” Her mother begins, her voice soft; warm. “You two share an unbreakable bond.”

Wednesday’s eyes grow wide.  

“You will be, or perhaps already are… in love.” 

Wednesday mouth falls agape; words fail to find her. She scowls intensely at the floor, blinking back the wealth of feelings that follow. For the sake of a few sentences, her world is shattered; redefined. The unknown that she so conceitedly glared down has grabbed her by the throat and demanded fealty. 

She and Enid…

Could it really be true? 

Wednesday glances to the hand Enid held. She thinks of the warmth of Enid’s touch; the spark it caused; how intense it seemed for something so small. Wednesday sees it now for what it is - what she failed to recognise. 

She doesn’t want to believe it, but she has no choice. 

After all: 

Visions don’t lie.

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Take Care of Me

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 5.5k

Summary = A discussion about sex toys turns into something more … concrete

Warnings = Swearing, talk/description of mild anxiety. SMUT (18+ only), use of handcuffs in a sexy way, oral, piv sex

A/N = Prompt no.8 requested by @itspdameronthings​ as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” w/santi and bolded in text. Also 3 things; 1 = Tom doesn’t exist in this AU, 2 = this is basically pure smut im so sorry, and 3 = I did do head hopping in this, which I know you’re not like supposed to do but also fuck the rules y’know?

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

It’s always easy to be loose after one of Benny’s fights.

It’s a heady mix of adrenaline, beer and testosterone, swirling together into a mix that makes you forget your normal boundaries. You’re normally quite brazen about your sex life anyway, but there is a line. You respect your partners, and there’s no need for your teammates to know too much.  

You’re all packed into a half-moon booth, Benny straddling a chair that he pulled up to the table after he spent too long chatting up the bartender.

It’s a small comment from Benny (because of course it’s Benny), saying that you haven’t got laid in a while, and you’re honestly surprised he noticed. But then, that’s the only predictable thing about Benny, that he is unpredictable.

Your surprise means you take a little too long actually thinking about it, which confirms Benny’s statement. You lean back a little in your seat, desperately ignoring Santi, who’s sat to your left. It also means you bite back a little harder in defence.

“Well maybe if you guys didn’t look like you’re about to murder anyone who even dares ask for my number maybe I’d have better luck.” That’s a lie, but there’s no way you’re going to tell them the truth. No way you’re going to tell Santi-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Will, sat to your right. “So you’re asking for our help?”

You scoff, hitting him up the head. “No, thank you.” Will knows why. Because of course he does. One of your oldest friends, he’d been the one who convinced you to join the team in the first place. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

You send a wink down to the table to Benny, who’s the first to catch on, hollering, and you try not to react to Santi leaning forward, suddenly interested, as though you’re not already hyper-aware of every body movement of his.

You continue, deciding you’re quite enjoying the effect you’ve had. “What do I need some stranger for when I can give myself a better orgasm than he could ever dream of?” You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin, as both Benny and Will holler, gaining a few glares from the pub’s other patrons.

That sip means you’re unprepared for Santi to lean in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his breath. “Maybe ‘stranger’ is where you’re going wrong.”

You swallow, unprepared for the sudden flare of attraction shooting through you and turning your head, just as he says, “I could take care of you.”

You catch a glimpse of Santi’s fuck me eyes when Benny (the dickhead) interrupts. Crossing his arms on the sticky table in front of him, he asks, “Does that mean you have toys?”

Frankie’s hat somehow tips lower on his head, if that’s possible.

Will twitches towards his brother, like he wants to strangle Benny for being so uncouth, but you put your hand on his upper arm. “Of course.” The best course of action is to just act like this is normal, so add a bit of air to your voice. This was normal. “Who doesn’t?”

There’s a blush rising on Benny’s cheeks and you can’t help but stoke it, grinning at him, and attempting your best bedroom eyes. He’s still not too ashamed to ask though. “What kinds?”

Will decides he’s had enough, glancing at Santi behind you with a frown and hitting Benny over the head in an imitation of the way you’d hit him. You laugh, unexpectedly pleased at the reaction you’ve gotten. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Benny nods, eager, even as Will stands, grabbing a hold of him, and steering him towards the bar. “Yes! Yes I would!” He manages to throw back at you and you laugh again, twisting your body to face Santi and Frankie, bringing your left leg onto the bench.

***

Meanwhile Santiago is in hell. He’s been in multiple hellish situations before, most similar to this one, in that it was always the 5 of you, bullets flying around your heads, rifles in your arms, weighed down by heat and sweat and tac vests.

And yet somehow, he thinks this might be the worst. Your foot next to his thigh, your knee bent, pulling your jeans up your leg and exposing your ankle to him. Watching you flirt with Benny, talking about sex, and toys, and masturbation. When that's all he wants to do with you. He just has to get the courage to tell you.

With you, there was a before in Santi’s life, and an after.

Before he knew you; and after he knew you.

Before he loved you; and after he loved you.

Except Santi’s not quite sure when he fell in love with you.

It started when Will introduced you as the newest member of the team, one of his childhood friends. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he treated you like he treated anyone else, quickly discovering that you weren’t like anyone else.

He welcomed you into his life with open arms, starting off innocently - he wanted to spend time with you. You were Will’s friend, which meant that there must be something good about you. You made him laugh, made him feel safe (even when he wasn’t). He’d wanted to do the same for you and thought he did a pretty good job.

He became your friend, until one day the two of you were watching a film. He can’t remember what it was, just that you were at his house, drinking and laughing and talking, huddled in one of his blankets, and looking like you belonged there, forever.

Falling in love with you was so easy, Santi didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Santi’s still impressed with himself that he didn’t just blurt out the words then and there. I love you.

How long had he been in love with you for? He couldn’t pinpoint down a specific moment. He remembered the night when you’d become friends - the last two around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows, making that awkward small-talk that occurs between acquaintances.

You’d made him laugh, playing chubby-bunny and teasing him until he’d had a go. You’d talked and talked, and Santi can’t even remember what about. Nothing, probably. The basics. Boring stuff, but filled with details that he’d used to keep the conversation going the next day.

He knows when he became your friend. Recognised when you trusted him more than the others, with the exception of maybe Will.

But he didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Just the day that the love became so overwhelming in his chest that he realised it.

The real nail in his metaphorical coffin was the night afterwards. The 5 of you had gone to a bar, and a girl had started talking to him as he was buying drinks. She was pretty, but she wasn’t you. And like a flashbulb, all of Santi’s previous partners flew through his mind and he realised that nothing had ever come out of them because they weren’t you.

They didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or why he had joined the military. They didn’t know the story behind his callsign, or what his favourite song was.

You did. What you weren’t there for, you asked about. You remembered. You made him feel important, like he mattered. In ways that he didn’t even really know existed.

You were the one that started him on decaf without telling him. That had been a conversation and a half. Before morning briefings, you’d started bringing him coffees. He hadn’t noticed much of a taste difference, and shamefully, had come to expect them.

Until, a month later, you weren’t there. A small trip home to visit your family, everyone knew you’d be back in a couple of days. Regardless, Santi had ordered what he’d thought was his usual coffee.

And found his anxiety rearing up again. It was subtle, making him more jumpy, less able to sleep, but it was there. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, definitely hadn’t linked it to the coffee, instead assuming that maybe he just missed you. Maybe because his anxiety hadn’t disappeared all the way, even with decaf. Maybe it was because it was your presence that helped him too.

He hadn’t even really noticed when the caffeine was gone, hadn’t noticed the absence of something wrong, only seeing the contrast when it returned. Maybe because it was gradual, the weaning off the caffeinated coffee, whereas the return, with his request of additional shot, had been too sharp for him.

You hadn’t noticed at first, assuming that Santi’s bear hug when he’d first seen you had just been because he missed you. But after lunch you pulled him to one side.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes are slightly wider with worry, and you’re chewing slightly on your bottom lip.

He hates that he’s the one to do that to you, and he tries to brush it off. “I’m fine.” That was his first mistake. His second was trying to push past you.

“Santiago!” He’s pulled up short, and there’s that tension, pulling at his shoulders, his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Your tone of voice hasn’t changed, but this time it’s a command.

Exhausted, hating himself, Santi drags his hands across his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t...I don’t know.” He takes a breath, and it shudders through him. “I don’t know.” He sounds defeated, and he hopes you can’t hear it. “I just...I feel…” How does he feel? “Jittery.” Is what he finally settles on, but the word still feels wrong somehow.

You frown, looking him up and down like you’ve never seen him before. In fact, you’re silent for so long, Santi starts to be worried that you’re going to tell him to stop being so fucking ridiculous.

You don’t, but you ask questions.

Has he been sleeping? “Not really.”

Does he have something big coming up? “Just the usual.”

Has his daily routine changed at all? “No, I don’t think so. I get myself a coffee in the morning and the-”

You interrupt him with a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” And now it’s wrong, because now you’re looking at him like it’s your fault, when it definitely isn’t. “Santi I’m sorry. It’s your coffee.”

Santi frowns. His coffee? And you sound so apologetic, and he doesn’t understand why. “I switched you to decaf.” You can’t meet his eyes any more, gaze skittering to his shoulder with nerves. And you’re not shutting up. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, or asked if I could, I just... I knew you were getting nightmares, and decaf helped me so I thought it might help y-”

Santi cuts you off with a hug.

And now, the three of you sat in the booth, he hates himself for agreeing with Benny. He would like to know. He has a sneaking suspicion, odd little comments you’ve made throughout the years that when pieced together, paint a picture. A very vivid picture that he sometimes uses to torture himself, late at night in bed, imagining what you’d look like with your hands between your legs and wrapping a hand around his-

Santi shakes his head. Now is not the time. There’s never really a good time to fantasise about one of your best friends, but in public when they’re sitting next to you, is definitely one of the worst.

And why did he have to offer to take care of you? Did he think he was in some kind of cheesy porno? What if you hated him-

In the end, it’s you who breaks him out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed Pope.” You push out with your foot, lightly kicking his thigh, unable to read his stony face.

Throughout all of this, Frankie has kept quiet, and now the conversation seems like it’ll be returning to safer ground, he rubs a hand over his face, lifting his hat slightly. “No.” Santi protests, although he says it too fast for it to be sincere. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” you reply, and Santi can see the moment a thought pops into your head that you can’t resist, he can see it in the way your eyes light up with mischief. “Out of all the boys, I figured you’d be the most likely to use toys.”

Frankie quickly slides out from his seat, muttering something about going to the toilet, his cheeks aflame, as Santi chokes a little on his beer. “Or maybe Will,” you muse, and Santi coughs again. “Shit, are you alright?” You ask, rocking forward to lean on your knee so you can rub Santi’s back for a second.

He concentrates on getting himself back under control, on not focusing how warm your hand is against his back. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to calm his heart down, praying that the room is dark enough that you won’t see him blush.  

Santi nods, his eyes watering a little, and you laugh, but it’s not unkind, not even when one of your thumbs wipes at his lower lash line, brushing away his tears with the pad. It’s so unexpectedly soft, another sharp contrast to this sticky, seedy bar they’re all in, where the booth seats are cracked and the most complicated drink they make is a rum and coke.

“Good,” you say, voice quiet, scooting back on the bench, your foot closer to his thigh this time, and Santi hates himself for wanting to follow you.

Instead, he pretends everyone else is still here, even as he watches Will whisper something into Benny’s ear as they stand, drinking next to the bar, with no clear intention of returning. Suddenly Benny punches Will’s upper arm, and Santi’s eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion. Benny looks ecstatic, and for what?

“I’ve used handcuffs,” he says casually, half of his mind taken up with Benny and Will acting like lunatics at the bar behind you. He’s wrenched back to you when you raise an eyebrow, and he’s reminded what it feels like to be the centre of your world.

Fuck, you’re sexy though.

***

Your heart beat speeds up, suddenly sounding loud in your chest. Your mind is screaming Danger! at you - but how can it be? This is Santiago. You would trust him with your life. You have.

I could take care of you, flashes through your mind again. Maybe-

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to act calm when there’s a steady thrumming under your skin. “And are you the tied up person, or do you do the tying?”

Santi scoffs, like he thinks the answer is obvious. Maybe it is.

“I do the tying.”

You smirk, dragging an exaggerated eye up and down his body. “Sure about that?”

He looks relaxed, like he can take up more space now Frankie has gone. One of his hands is on your calf, gently trailing up and down, slowly setting you on fire, and you don’t even think he realises he’s doing it. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t recognise, darker, although it seems familiar. That’s been happening more and more lately, especially when it’s just the two of you. You like it.

“You want to test me babygirl?”

You feel breathless. “Maybe I’d like to try.”

You’ve never spoken with Santi like this before. You flirt with him more than the other boys, but this is new. This feels...real, somehow. More dangerous. And he’s closer now, shifting, so your foot is over his lap, his hand wrapped around your ankle, on your bare skin and you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You watch his hand move on your leg and you feel like you could evaporate.  

“That’s not what good girls do.” Fuck, his voice.

“Good girls don’t do a lot of things I do.”

And you’re not sure what gives you the sudden confidence, but you lean forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s a horrible angle, your legs in the way, but you don’t care.

And then you’re retreating, opening your eyes again, suddenly unsure of what you’ve just done. Your mouth feels tingly, where you can still feel Santi against you. His grip has tightened on your leg, no longer moving.

And then his hand is tugging at you a little, and there’s a smile threatening to take over his face.

Come here.

You scoot up, so your left leg is fully over him, your right leg tangling with his under the table and you can smell him now, beer and - as weird as it sounds - like a man. It’s familiar. Nice. Breathless, you shoot him a little grin, suddenly unsure.

And then he’s kissing you again and it’s everything you ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, but firm, moving against your mouth, contrasting with the slight stubble growing on his face. His free hand moves to your waist and you let out a small sound.

You break apart after a second, both of you breathless. You’ve slung your arms around his neck, fingers idly playing with his chain, and you’re the first to speak.

“So do you use those handcuffs on anyone?”

Santi kisses you again, short and sweet, before he answers, his lips mumbling against yours. “Hmm, just on girls I really like.”

You kiss again, neither of you really wanting to stop. “Can I use them on you?” Santi asks, moving to kiss along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. You feel surrounded by him, he’s all you care about, all you can feel.

Your eyes snap open, desire pooling in your belly. Is this really happening? “Yes.”

“Good.” Santi’s voice is still low in your ear, before he moves down your neck, soft lips a stark contrast to his stubble catching on your skin. “How do you feel about a date, too?”

“Yeah?” You lean back slightly so you can see his face. He’s beautiful in this light, face half hidden in the shadows, eyes dark.

His lips are brushing yours again.

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, do it properly.”

“Good,” you mumble against him, “that sounds really good.” Your fingers are still playing with his chain, lightly brushing against the scar on his neck. “Shall we go?”

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in a cab, having said a quick goodbye to the others, Will asking if it was safe for them to sit back in the booth. You’d responded with the finger, not bothering with a proper reply.

Santi leans over to you, whispering into your ear. “Can I really tie you up?”

You clench your thighs together, closing your eyes in an effort not to physically respond. The pause is enough for Santi to hesitate, hand shyly holding yours. “It’s ok, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just a-”

You stop him with a kiss, moving your hand so you can squeeze him in reassurance. When you answer, it’s a mumble against his mouth so the driver doesn’t hear. “Break out the handcuffs, and we’ll see if you’re as tough as you act, big boy.”

Santi groans when you lean away from him.

Getting inside Santi’s flat is a feat in itself, and you’re honestly a little proud of the restraint both of you showed by not fucking in the stairwell, stopping every couple of meters to kiss each other senseless, hips clumsily knocking together as you rile each other up.

You’ve been inside his flat before, so when Santi kicks the door closed, walking you backwards into his bedroom, kissing you all the while, you don’t protest. It’s so nice to finally kiss Santi like you’ve wanted to for a while now, so nice to feel his hands on your waist, pushing you backwards while his hips press into yours, steady now, purposeful.

His fingers are playing with the waist of your trousers, and you help him, shimmying your jeans off, pushing them down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. Then he surprises you, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your knickers down your legs.

Looking down, you feel dizzy from the rush of power this brings you. Santi looks like he’s about to worship you, his face close to your pussy. His hands are on your waist and he pushes at you, encouraging you to step back.

When you don’t he tips his head back, exposing his neck to you. “Step back.” His voice is dangerous and you can feel more wetness gathering between your legs. You grin down at him, still not moving.

In response Santi nips at your thigh, grinning when you gasp, hands flying to his hair. He pushes at you again, and this time you let him, stepping back until you hit his bed, sitting down.

Santi presses his hand against your stomach, and you allow yourself to be pushed back, falling back onto your elbows so you can watch him. He presses his nose to your mound and you squirm, impatient, as Santi spreads your knees so he can fit between your legs.

You watch him press his nose to your pussy, burying his nose in you, feeling yourself grow wetter. “You taste so good,” he groans, “Sweetest pussy I’ve tasted.” As he begins to explore you with his tongue, your hips lift off the bed with a groan and it takes you a second to recognise your own voice, broken with need. Santi’s arm reaches out, pressing you down as he explores your folds. Stubble is scratching your thighs, a pleasantly rough feeling compared to the soft wetness, the pliability of Santi’s tongue. Your clit is the first thing he concentrates on, his tongue practically lapping at you, and it all feels so good.

One hand is desperately fisting the sheets to the side of you as you try to hold on to reality, the other knotted in Santi’s short curls, nails scraping ever so slightly along his scalp even as he lifts you higher and higher. Broken pleas of his name fall from your lips when he inserts two fingers into you, gently pumping in and out, with a strangely satisfying squelch under your cries.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and unsuspecting. One second your chest is heaving, breaths short and shallow, the next you’ve tensed up as you fall apart under Santi.

He keeps kissing you, gently pressing his lips over your thighs, hips, stomach as you stare at his ceiling, willing rational thought to return to you. He’s murmuring praises into your skin, telling you how good you are for him, what a good job you’ve done, how pretty you look when you come, how he wants to make you do it again, and all the while you float somewhere above your body, hardly daring to believe this is real. Santi keeps kissing you, any skin he can get his mouth on, desperate to keep tasting you. Gradually he moves up your body, even as you lie there, panting, letting him push your top up, bunching under your arms and around your neck.

Your hands fly to his hair when he bites the soft skin of your breast peeking out from your bra, and you arch your back towards him slightly, letting out a small whine. You can feel his smirk against you, so you wrap your legs around his waist, canting your hips up, grinding against where you can feel him, hard and aching in his jeans.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, slow and lazy when Santi lets out a low growl in response. He tips his head up so he can look at you, his eyes soft as he smiles at you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

And then his body weight is gone and he’s standing next to the bed, taking his top off and it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, of course it isn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him and been allowed to look, and Santi’s all shadows and soft muscle, pale scars highlighted on his skin.

You sit up, and it takes you a second to fight your way out of your top, quickly sliding the straps of your bra off, and dropping your clothes to the side of the bed as you watch Santi cross his room, and fish out a pair of handcuffs from a box with a couple of other objects inside, as well as what you’re pretty sure looks like a strap-on. And maybe it’s because his ass is currently in your eye-line, maybe it’s the surprise, but the image of you wearing it, teasing Santi with your dick while he waits on all fours on his bed, begging for you to touch him, suddenly pops into your head, and you have to work to hold back a moan at the mental image. Oh my god.

When Santi turns back to you, he’s opened the cuffs. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

You suddenly feel nervous, your mouth dry, and you don’t know why, this is Santi. He’s made it clear that you don’t have to do this, and anyway you want to. “Green is good, orange is slow down, red is stop,” you recite easily, and Santi nods in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he says and his words hit deep in your stomach, unfurling something you hadn’t known existed. “You say something and I’ll untie you.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back on your hands, eyeing up the way Santi’s jeans are still on, now hanging low on his hips, exposing a small trail of hair down from his bellybutton. “What if I don’t want you to untie me?” You ask.

You can see how his eyes darken, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me you understand,” he says, voice stern and you shiver.

“I understand,” you parrot. Santi nods, pleased at you doing as he says, and steps out of his jeans, pulling his boxers off at the same time, releasing his cock. He’s hard, curving up towards his stomach and leaking pre-cum.

Almost on instinct, you lean forwards to lick it off, and Santi lets out a groan of satisfaction at the sensation of your mouth just wrapping around his head, your hands on his thighs. Before you can take him any further, he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

“Lie back,” he instructs, and you obey. Santi kneels next to you, tugging your wrists up, above your head, looping the handcuffs through his headboard and clicking them on around you. You give them an experimental tug, biting back a moan when they hold fast. “Colour?” Santi asks, and you grin up at him.

“Green.” Your voice already sounds broken. “Santi, please.”

Santi just kneels back, looking at you with those hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out, hands running up and down your body, ignoring how you squirm as best you can under him.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “Why don’t you come down here then, instead of just watching me?” Santi’s hands reach your breasts, squeezing and gently massaging and you arch your back towards him.

“You’re unhappy with my hands?” Santi returns, and stops touching you. You can’t help it, letting out a whine and straining to move your arms towards him, before remembering you can’t, your attempted movement jangling the chain a little.

“No, Santi,” you’re desperate for him to touch you again, especially now you can’t touch him,“Santi please, touch me again, touch me more.” Begging has never come so easily to you. And then Santi’s moving between your legs, gripping your hips and thrusting up, but not into you, just along your folds. You moan, shifting as best as you can while Santi coats himself with your slick, the head of his cock just pushing your clit, teasing you and riling you up further.

You suddenly really want to touch him, to rake your hands through his hair, to scratch your nails down his back, to be able to suck a purple hickey into his skin. You let your head fall back to the bed, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more, desperate for him.

It’s only when you open your mouth in a desperate plea, a whine of his name, “Santi, Santi please,” that he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, just as Santi begins to talk. “Fuck, baby.” The stretch of him is delicious. “I wanted this for so long.” Now fully seated in you, he rests on his forearms, kissing you softly, first on the forehead, then on your lips. “Colour?” he asks softly.

You nearly cry from how sweet it is, how sweet he is, before responding, a mumble against his lips. “Green.” You feel full, like this is how you’re supposed to feel all the time, this is your base state, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this specific feeling.

“Good girl,” Santi murmurs and you keen at the praise, feeling insatiable, wanting more, clenching around him. He grins, registering your response. “You liked that? You like being told what a good job you’re doing, how good you feel around me..” he breaks off with a gasp, and your eyes close as Santi begins to move in time with his words, long, slow thrusts as he begins to put you together again, building you up, further and further, his thrusts speeding up gradually, the sound of his dick sliding into your wetness, and the slap of skin-on-skin loud in his room, mixing with your moans.

You lift your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, hooking one of your feet around Santi’s butt. They don’t stay there for long, one of Santi’s arms pushing one leg up your body, hand under your knee as he splits you open. The new angle hits something deeper in you, and you gasp, unable to move and at the mercy of Santiago.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, coming out of nowhere, your lower body suddenly clenching around Santi, arms straining against the handcuffs, as you try in vain to touch him. You tumble through it, muscles spasming as you fall under him. He keeps moving into you as you shudder below him, pulling you through with murmured praise and encouragement as another broken cry leaves your throat.

His thrusts start to get sloppier as he goes faster, losing his rhythm slightly and you can tell he’s near his end. As best you can, you start moving your own hips, grinding up to meet him, words of encouragement slipping past your lips. “Santi, you feel so good, are you gonna fill me up?” You coo, pouting a little, tugging your wrists a little for emphasis. “Please Santi, I want to feel you, come in me, please-”

You stop when Santi snaps his hips once more, with a groan of finality and you can feel his cum inside of you as he holds himself there, his cock pulsing within you. He presses a couple more gentle kisses to your neck before sliding out, and you hiss slightly at the pull on your sensitive folds of your pussy.

He leaves for a second, returning with a key and gently releasing your wrists. “Good girl,” he murmurs, massaging your skin. “You did so good for me.”

He helps you sit up, kissing your cheek before leaving again. This time when he returns, he has a wet rag, and a glass of water, which you take a sip from, not having realised how thirsty you were. He gently dabs the rag on the inside of your thighs first, and the two of you watch in slightly morbid fascination as Santi’s cum leaks out of you onto the rag.

“That’s kinda hot,” you comment idly, wondering if Santi fucked all sense of you.

He only laughs, wiping the mess away and cuddling up next to you. “Do you want me to do it again?” he asks as you lean into his arms, his hands wrapping around your wrists to rub circles into your skin.

“Yes,” you answer, probably too quickly but beyond caring.

“Good.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Santi wants to ask you something, so you twist in his arms, kissing along his shoulder. The act feels small, and innocent somehow, despite your states of undress, as you try to reassure him.

“You were right,” you murmur near his ear, “Stranger was where I was going wrong.”

It takes him a second to piece your reference together, but then he grins, and it’s like he hung the sun in the sky. “Yeah? I took care of you?”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, biting back your own identical grin. “Yeah.”

***

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