#sorry i have to tag him to give credits to his beautiful body

[evillex11]

the k in kenjaku stands for korn ★

extra doldle↓

I forgot to color the Adidas logo... Korn's staple ... 😓

also here's an extra ! it's the initial drawing of their pretty face ... yes the forehead is too big

[frantic-fiction]

Beg 18+

Pic Credit: astarionposting

Astarion x F!reader

Summary: Astarion asks for more blood, you make him work for it.

Warnings/Tags: Smut MDNI, fingering, begging, slight overstimulation, sub!Astarion, switch!Astarion, Druid!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Masterlist

"There you are, darling,"

Astarion hovers above you as you sit cross-legged in the grass by your tent, his shadow blanketing you, blocking the sun's warmth. You hum in acknowledgment, but your focus is solely on your book. A delicate finger dangles in front of the vampire, who audibly scoffs but otherwise stays silent and waits, patiently observing. 

You pick at the skin of your lips absentmindedly with your teeth as you flip the page. You can feel his eyes on you, taking every inch of your body in with his wandering gaze. Shifting in the grass, you continue to read, relishing the impatience dripping from Astarion, smirking when each flick of the page elicits a huff of annoyance from the vampire.

Once your chapter finishes, you mark your page and lean back on your hands to look up at the man with a quizzical arch to your brow. "How can I help you, Astarion?" 

His annoyance melts like ice in the sun as a sultry smile stretches his lips. "Can I not simply want to see your enchantingly beautiful face?"

You snort, "You have barely spoken to me since the tiefling's party. So I'd say you want something." Standing, you brush off the dirt on your pants and move to store your book away.

"I have to!" Astarion balks, pressing a hand to his chest in a dramatic display. "Besides, we have been incredibly busy running all over the gods damn wilderness since you and everyone else seem to want to play the hero."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, a playful retort poised on your tongue. "I'm terribly sorry that some of us have morals and a conscience," you tease, your gaze meeting him with a mixture of challenge and amusement.

"Oh, I have morals, my sweet," Astarion purrs, leaning into your space, his breath chilly against your skin. "however, mine sway towards the more sinful side."

You suppress the shudder that trembles through your body. Astarion always has a way of reducing you to a mumbling, blushing mess with only a few salacious words. It's like he holds the key to pulling you apart and leaving you consumed by him, and he knows it, too. But you're not giving in that easily. There's something he wants. You can see it in his eyes, and he's not going to get it without working for it.

Putting your hand up, you interrupt his following flirty remark. "Did you want something? Or are you just here to interrupt my free time?"

Astarion looks at you in shock, mouth open to speak, but no words seem to want to flow. His eyebrows furrowed, and a smirk stretched his lips. Leaning on one hip, Astarion flicks out his hand, idly looking at his nails. 

"Yes, actually, I have a list. Coin, sex, blood, revenge," Astarion counts on his fingers, his tone dripping with amusement. "Certainly not in that order, and I could go on, but what I came here for specifically is something that might be better…" Astarion looks around the camp, taking mind of everyone. "Discussed in private."

Having a hunch on where this would lead, you stifle a laugh, a plan forming in your head. "Then lead the way." You motion for him to walk, smiling brightly at the vampire. 

Astarion nods smugly, obviously feeling like his plan was going just as he attended. He escorts the two of you past the others' tents and deep into the woods. Your hunch seems more viable as the brush becomes thicker and the symphony of nature's melody replaces the still air. 

After a few minutes of walking in relative silence, the two of you break into a small clearing. Its grass has spatters of bright patches of wildflowers, and the colors of oranges, pinks, and blues contrast against the expanse of green. There's a small pond on the far side, and cattails and pond reeds sway in the winds. A deer is grazing the water, but sensing Astarion as a predator; it quickly retreats to the woods.

Paying more attention to the scenery, you had yet to notice Astarion stop mid-step and swing on his heel. You stumble slightly into his chest. "I believe this spot will do nicely," he declares smugly as you step back.

Taking a step back, you quickly recover, "And why are we here exactly, Astarion? I was quite enjoying my book."

For a moment, uncertainty flickers across Astarion's features before swiftly being concealed behind a facade of confidence and a devilish smile. Turning away from you, he strides further into the small alcove.

"Are you so eager to escape my company, my dear?" he counters playfully, eyes scanning the clearing. "I thought you would like this little spot. I had no idea how beautiful the woods could be." 

"You're stalling," you accuse.

"Am not!" Astarion's voice echoes against the canopy.

Folding your arms over your chest, you give Astarion a pointed look.

The vampire sighs deeply, shoulders slumping. "Gods, this is embarrassing," Astarion mumbles under his breath so low you barely catch it. He combs a hand through his tousled curls, not bothering to turn back to face you. "Fine, yes, you see… I'm hungry, darling. Starving, actually."

Of course, the prick ignores you for almost a week to ask you for a bite. After what he did, he thinks he can call on you like his personal snack pack. Oh no, he's going to have to do better than that.

"Then hunt." You smirk, "Or did you need me to ensnare something for you?" 

"Excuse me! I am perfectly capable of hunting!" Astarion snaps his head back and storms toward you. "It's these bloody woods; there's barely any fauna in the cursed thing."

His outburst has the surrounding animals scurrying, and before you can open your mouth to utter a mocking retort, Astarion grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against his body. You yelped at the sudden force of his moments, your hand catching yourself on his chest. 

"Don't make me say it," Astarion breathes against your ear, his hands trailing teasing paths down your sides. 

"Astarion," you chuckle, feigning ignorance. "I don't understand what you're implying. If you want something, you'll need to say it."

Astarion nuzzles against your neck with a groan of frustration, his lips brushing against your skin in a maddeningly gentle caress. "Darling, may I have a taste?" He murmurs, the scrape of his fangs against your flesh nearly causing you to relent. "I'm famished, and your blood… Gods, it's intoxicating. I promise to make it just as pleasurable for you."

How easy it would be to say yes. Let him take what he wants and wait for the next time he wants something from you. But you weren't his little chew toy, just waiting for whenever he deems you worthy enough for attention. No, he needs to learn. 

"Beg." You demand, twirling out of his grasp and pushing him away gently.

"What?" Astarion pauses, disbelief written across his face as if he misheard you. 

"Beg." You repeat, your words slipping from your lips mockingly slowly.

"Are you serious?"

You meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, waiting for him to comply. As realization dawns, Astarion's expression shifts to amusement.

"Joking doesn't suit you, dear," he scoffs, his laughter echoing through the clearing. 

Silent and persistent, you hold his gaze, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. His eyes drift to the faint scar beneath your chin, a silent reminder. Wetting his lips, Astarion clears his throat before looking at you, clearly trying to grapple for the upper hand.

"Must we really play this song and dance?" He asks.

"If you want my blood, this is how you'll get it."

You hold firm, with your arms crossed over your chest. Astarion stares at you as if seeing you for the first time, and a mix of emotions storms behind his eyes. His body seems to deflate, coming to terms with the fact that you won't back down. Licking his lips, Astarion swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he murmurs through gritted teeth, his posture betraying his inner turmoil. "Allow me a taste of your exquisite blood. I'm starving and beg for your mercy."

"On your knees," you command softly, relishing the power that surges between you. "And I want a please this time."

Astarion looks at you with wide eyes. "Must I degrade myself further?" The anticipation in his voice betrays his reluctance to give in to you. "You've already gotten what you've wanted."

Biting your lip, you step closer and delicately cup his jaw, your touch gentle but commanding, and bring Astarion's lips tantalizingly close to yours. "I'll let you have your fill of my blood and more if you want. But only if you're a good boy and listen." Astarion breath leaves his lungs in a shuddering gasp, all fight seeping from his body.

"You are a cruel woman." 

With a resigned sigh, Astarion sinks to his knees. His silver curls reflect the golden light filtering through the forest canopy. His back is pin straight, and his neck is arched up to look at you with his deep crimson eyes. You can't help but focus on the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows again.

"I beg, please allow me the privilege to taste your tantalizing blood," he starts, but you zone out the rest of his words, focusing more on Astarion himself.

You focused on how his shirt hugs his chest, the cotton straining in some places while loose in others. You noticed how blue his veins are, just under his pale skin. You see how his pants seemed tight in the front, something stiff straining against the thick fabric. 

Wait. Oh. Now that is interesting. 

You pounce before you can think things through, mind moving more on instinct than anything else. Astarion's plea for you is replaced with a yelp as you push him on his back and straddle his lap.

"Wh-what are you?" he stutters before letting out a pathetic moan he will most certainly deny later. 

You capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Your tongue runs over the seam of his lips, and when Astarion allows you access, you lick into his mouth. Your tongues twirl in a practiced dance as you deepen the kiss. Astarion groans into your mouth. A hand moves up to cup your head, fingers combing through your hair. 

"Astarion," you purr breathlessly, rolling your front against the vampire's growing bulge. You press your body closer against his, practically willing yourself to melt into him. "Did begging for me get you all excited?"

"Excuse you? No! Don't be ridiculous," he tries to deny but fails when another moan rakes through his chest with another turn of your hips. 

"Look at you, all hard and needy." You lick up the column of his throat, stopping to playfully bite at his ear before whispering. "Do you like being my good boy, Astarion?"

"Shit! You're being ridiculous," Astarion pants, his hand tightening on your hips to cease your ministrations. "You're rubbing against me like a desperate virgin. Any man would get aroused."

Humming calmly, you sit back on your haunches and remove your shirt, tossing the garment into the bushes. Astarion's eyes immediately wander your exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your body. You take your bra off and trail your fingers over your nipples. Astarion lets out a pitiful groan.

"That's disappointing," you pout out your lip, trying to conceal a smile. "I was going to reward you for being so good." 

"Darling, I think this is reward enough, so long as we end this with my teeth in your pretty neck."

"That's good to know," you chuckle, trailing a hand down the valley of your breast and over the planes of your stomach, stopping just shy of your waistband. "I'll enjoy this reward for both of us.

Astarion's brows scrunch slightly in confusion before zeroing in on your hand as you teasingly slip under the waistband of your pants and past your folds. Sighing softly, you begin to tease your clit with the pad of your finger, staring down at Astarion, who looks as if he might just have an aneurysm.

He cools his features with a smug smirk, idly trailing his hand up your side. "A show and then dinner? My dear, you're not as good at this teasing as you think, but I admire your effort."

One of Astarion's icy hands works up to your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other grips your hip and begins to rock you against his stiff erection. You involuntarily gasp at the friction, allowing the vampire a moment of control.

Astarion ruts against you, letting out a grunt when you grind down with equal enthusiasm. Then suddenly, Astarion's hands are ripped from your body and pinned to the ground as you rise further, removing any contact between the two of you.

"What?" Astarion exclaims before looking to the side. Little vines sprout from the ground, binding his hands to the hard earth. "Gods, you wretched thing." 

Clicking your tongue, you grin wickedly down at the trapped man. "Only good boys get to touch."

"Darling, must we continue this?" Astarion groans in frustration, tugging at your vines, annoyed when they don't give. "We both want this. You're the one making things difficult."

"Maybe, but only because I love hearing you beg for me. Now, unless you're going to give me what I want." You resume your ministrations, moaning as you dip a finger into your neglected hole. "Keep quiet,"

"At least remove your trousers!"

"Don't make me gag that pretty mouth of yours, Astarion." 

Astarion fumes from underneath you, but you can see the cracks forming, the dilated pupils, the rapidly falling chest as he pants for breath he doesn't need, and the way he tugs against his bindings even though he knows nothing will give. You know he'll break. He already did once he had a bit more incentive.

Adding another finger, you start to pump in and out of your dripping cunt; an audible squelching noise can be heard with each dip of your hand. You moan, dropping your head back. Circling your puffy clit with your thumb, you rock against your hand, your other one snaking up your body to tease your breast.

"Astarion," you breathe out, smirking when you hear the man's frustrated groan. "Gods, I'm so wet, making a mess, squeezing my fingers so tight."

"You are killing me all over again, sweetheart," Astarion cries; his hips are desperately trying to move against you, but another vine wraps around his stomach, holding him down.

"Just say the word's Star," you say, pinching your nipple and rolling it between your fingers. A whine rips from your throat when you curl your fingers up and hit that spongy spot, which has a familiar burning sensation that starts coiling in your gut. "Fuck, say the words, and it could be you making me feel this good. Won't you be my good boy?" 

"Gods," He bites back another moan, slamming his head in the dirt. 

"I'm so close," you whimper, moving your thumb faster against your clit. "Just imagine it could have been your cock I'm clenching around, not my fingers. Could have been you that's making a mess of me." Looking down, you see Astarion all flustered, mouth agape, and hair a mess of frizzy curls, his whole body practically buzzing with need. It was enough to send you over the edge cumming around your fingers with a choked sob. 

This finally broke the man. "Fine, okay! Please, please let me go!" Astarion pleads, voice ragged and needy. "Just let me touch you. I'll do anything you want, please. Gods, please, please, please!"

Suddenly, the vines vanish, and your lips are again on his. Astarion's pleas muffle against your mouth and quickly morph into a satisfied grunt when he bites his lip. Now that he's finally free, Astarion's quick to roll the two of you and pin you against the cold earth. Nestled between your thighs, Astarion starts mindlessly tearing at his clothes, his mouth trailing sloppy open-mouth kisses down your neck and to your chest. 

"You are an evil woman." Astarion murmurs against the skin between your breasts. Slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, he begins to suck, and you gasp, arching your back into him. 

"Astarion, fuck!" 

A hand curls into his hair, your nails raking against his scalp, causing him to hum against your chest, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You feel his hands move to your pants, tugging them down your hips, dragging your drenched underwear with them. 

A cold finger trails through your warm cunt, and you shiver at the feeling. "I must admit, darling, I quite like it when you take charge, but," His voice rumbles against your skin, and you whine at the feeling of his fangs teasing your swollen nipple. "My patience has grown thin, so if it's okay with you, your good boy will take his reward now." His finger teases your entrance, barely dipping in.

You clench, choking on the gasp that bubbles up your throats. "Yes! Gods, please fuck me!" 

Astarion cups the back of your head and kisses you deeply. Feeling his hard cock swipe through your cunt, your gasp into his mouth, your hand coming up to hold his face. He presses into you, and you pull away from his lips, moaning at the stretch of his cock, filling you to the brim. Astarion peppers feather light kisses over your face and neck as he bottoms out and waits for you to nudge him to continue. 

Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Astarion pulls out almost entirely before impaling you again and sets a steady pace. A pace has your toes curling and you feeling breathless with each delicious drag of his cock against your walls. You don't think you'll get over the feeling of Astarion inside you, feeling the ridges rub against you in all the perfect ways as if he has the only manual to tear you apart with mind-numbing pleasure. 

"Ugh-Always so tight," he grunts into your neck, "So perfect, just for me."

"Astarion!" You dig your nails into his shoulders and buck against each of his thrusts. "Faster, please!"

Astarion picks up the pace; your collective sounds of pleasure mingle together in the air, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the clearing. Astarion's forehead drops against yours, and both of your noses brush against each other as he breathes in every whimper and moan of ecstasy you give him with each drag of his cock against your walls. Snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies, his nimble fingers swirl around your clit in time with each grind of his hips. 

Another moan rolls off your tongue, and soon, that warmth blossoms once again in the pit of your stomach. "D-don't stop," you plead, hands running up his chest to wrap around his shoulder. "M' close." 

Astarion nuzzles at your neck and inhales your scent, groaning at a particularly tight squeeze of your cunt. Even after all the begging and pleading you put him through, he still silently asks before he takes a bite. The thought warms your heart and is something you'll have to reflect on later. 

"Yes! Please, bite me!" You whimper, clutching the back of his neck and pressing him close. 

The sharp sting of ice pierces your neck, and you cry out against the pain. Astarion pays special attention to your clit, applying pressure and dragging his thumb around the swollen bud, his way of helping you through the initial sting. After a moment, the pain resides in mind-numbing pleasure, and soon, everything becomes too much. 

Astarion consumes you. His hand caressing your body, his mouth lavishing your neck, his cock hitting you perfectly in spots only he seems to know how to reach. It's all too much, and soon tears prick at your eyes, and the heat in your lower stomach bursts, draining lava into your veins. Your nails dig into the flesh of Astarion's shoulders as you scream out his name, body spasming around the pleasure that courses through your body. 

This seems to be enough to push Astarion over the edge with you. Still drinking mouthfuls of your blood, Astarion is rutting into you, grinding your pelvis against the solid earth. His moans hum against your skin, and his thrust becomes sloppy before a rush of heat gushes inside you as Astarion cums.

With a few more gulps of blood and a few more thrusts of his hips, you whimper with overstimulation. Astarion removes his mouth from your body, licking any stray droplets. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him until your head is lying on his chest. You whine at the loss of fullness, cringing at the feeling of your combined release that begins to drip down your legs. 

"That was…" Astarion trails off, seeming to be at a loss for words. 

"Way better than the tiefling party." You mumble against his chest, smirking at the snort he makes.

"Yes, I would be inclined to agree."

"So you admit it," you tease, trailing your thumb over Astarion's nipple. "You liked begging for me."

"I wouldn't… mind if you took charge again," Astarion says, skirting around your claim.

"Whatever protects your ego." You tilt your head up. "Hey, Star?" 

Astarion hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed, his body seeping into a comfortable stillness. You note something he didn't allow himself to do at the party. Reaching your hand up, you run your fingers along his jaw, coaxing his eyes open.

"Next time, don't ignore me for a week to ask for my blood. I don't want you hungry. I care about you." 

Astarion seems to freeze at your words as if he's never heard a caring word said to him. The thought alone makes you want to hunt this Cazador down and flay him for all of Baldur's gate to see. 

Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes, that will certainly make things easier from now on." 

The two of you lay there in silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin against the other. Soon, when the sky turns to ombres of blues, pinks, and purples, you decide it's time to return to camp. Astarion is quiet for the journey back; an air of contemplation clings to his being. You don't push. Goodnights were said, and you parted ways, feeling like something had changed. Everything may have changed.

Heya, it's been crazy, but I finally got some time and energy to finish up this piece I've been working on for a while. I hope Astarion's not too out of character for as earlier of act one, I just liked the idea. I hope you all enjoyed, let me know what ya thought!

Taglist

@heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog @ambr4armr @lotusandcrystals @venussakura @synapticjive @skittleabyss @asterordinary @lariatbunny @whispering-depths @butchboi-chihuahua-slumlord @darkest-part-of-the-forest @queenofcarrotflowers-s @sessils @d20bunny@cherifrog@ophelia-ophelian @bgthree @darlingxdragon @mothynyx @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @babyqnn @mmendez0124 @kokoyu-art @lilah-asteria

Want to be added to the taglist? DM me please!

[veltana]

Buy my heart - 2

✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader

✦ Word count: ~1,2k

✦ Rating for this part: Mature

✦ Warnings/tags: Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Reader, slow burn, eventual smut, pet names (little darling/darling)

✦ Series summary: In a desperate attempt to rescue your family from debt, you decide to auction yourself off. The alpha who purchases you turns out to be quite different from what you imagined, leading to a marriage that exists only on paper. However, when an omega moves in with an alpha who hasn't experienced a rut in years and is determined to keep things strictly professional despite his instincts, complications arise.

✦ In this part: Bucky and you have a chat.

✦ Note: Thank you so much for all the wonderful words about part one! ❤️ Reblogs, comments and asks are much appreciated!

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

prev

Light filters in through the curtains in the places where you didn't close them properly. The small clock on the bedside table tells you it's just a few minutes past ten.

Last night you did as Bucky suggested and took a bath, exploring all the different dials and buttons before scrubbing your body with soap that smelled incredibly expensive. Afterward, you dried off with fluffy towels and found a robe on a hook. Clothes had been placed on your bed and a tray of food waited on a small table.

According to the label, the pajamas were 100% silk. You'd had no energy left after that and crawled into bed.

Getting up you find that the tray is gone. Which means someone was in your room while you slept, and that makes you uneasy. Instead of a tray, there is a note. I'll be in the office, find me once you've had breakfast. It's not signed but there is no doubt who wrote it.

After washing your face you try to figure out what all the different creams, mists, and toners are for and have a proper look around your room. The closet is empty, so you guess you'll just have to walk around in your pajamas. Bucky did say something to the person on the phone about clothes but as far as you can tell, nothing more arrived last night.

You stand hesitantly in front of the door, your hand hovering over the handle but not daring to open it. This new place is intimidating. Bucky seems fine so far, but you’ve only just met him—can you really gauge anything yet? Taking a deep breath, you twist the handle and step out. Now to figure out where the kitchen is.

You head back down the stairs Bucky carried you up yesterday, hoping to find someone who can give you directions.

At the bottom, you look around but don’t see anyone. But you do hear voices and decide to follow them. It leads you to a set of double doors slightly ajar. From within, you can hear Bucky’s voice and a woman’s. The note suggested having breakfast first, but now that you’ve found him, you might as well join him. Again, you hesitate, but since the doors aren’t closed you gently knock on the door. “Come in,” Bucky answers.

He’s sitting behind a large desk and in front of it stands one of the most beautiful women you've ever seen. Her hair is long and red, but the tips are blonde, arranged in a messy braid, dressed in high heels, a pencil skirt, and a white shirt. She smiles sweetly, and you find yourself feeling shy.

“Hey there, little darling,” Bucky says. The nickname he's given you feels just as strange now as it did yesterday but you don't ask him to stop. “Did you sleep well?” “Yes, sir. Sorry! I mean, yes, Bucky.” The woman chuckles and now you feel flustered too. “This is Natasha, she's my right hand. Don't let her appearance fool you, she's as lethal as they come.” You nod at her.

“I hope some more clothes will arrive during the day, I wasn't sure what style you preferred,” She says with a smile. You have a suspicion that she was the one Bucky called from the limo yesterday. “Thank you!” “As soon as you've settled in a little we'll have a girl's day and go shopping on Bucky's credit card,” she laughs and steps away, passing you on her way out. She smells amazing too.

Natasha closes the door behind her and you're alone with Bucky. “Take a seat. How was breakfast?” As you sit you throw him an apologetic smile. “I haven't eaten, I don't know where the kitchen is.”

Bucky looks confused for a moment, then shakes his head. “Of course, sorry, do you want me to show you?” “No, I prefer waiting a while after waking up to eat.” “Oh, then we might as well go over the agreement I've drawn up.” “Agreement?” “Kind of like a contract. I'll explain,” he leans back in his chair.

“I took over the business from my father, who got it from his father, and so on. My grandfather is still alive but my father passed away recently.” “I'm sorry,” you say. “Don't be, we didn't have a good relationship. Anyway, I've been without a partner for a long time and it doesn't sit well with my grandfather. So he gave me an ultimatum two weeks ago: get married or see the money I'm set to inherit go up in smoke when he passes. And between you and me it could be any day now.”

“You need a wife?” Looking at Bucky, you find it hard to believe he would have trouble finding someone willing to marry him. Which could mean a lot of things.

“A friend gave me a tip about the auction.” “You decided to buy a wife?” “Yes, it might not seem like a very honorable thing to you, but I'm in a bit of a time crunch at the moment.” “I understand,” you nod. It's not your place to question his motives. You should be happy that he's even willing to discuss terms with you. You’ve heard stories of omegas being sold to horrible people.

Another thought enters your mind. Bucky seems to be well off, and when you're his wife then maybe you can convince him to send some money to your family. The money from your auction will last them some time but sooner or later it will run out.

He pulls a bunch of papers out of his desk and hands a bundle to you. “Read through this during the day. Write any questions down. My lawyer will be here tomorrow and can answer them.” “Okay,” you nod.

Then Bucky picks up a pen. “The paperwork I got from your auction wasn't very thorough. Are you on suppressants?” “No, couldn't afford them.” “And what's your family situation?” “Complicated.” That is all you give him.

He shoots you a look but you don't explain further, it doesn’t concern him. “When was your last heat?” He asks in a very professional voice but it makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You start counting backward but it's hard to remember exactly.

“Maybe three months ago?” you guess. “So that should give us around three months before the next time?” Bucky’s eyebrow goes up as he eyes you questioningly. “Yeah, I suppose,” you shrug. “You don't keep track?” “No, not really,” you confess. “I notice when it's about to happen and then it does.”

Bucky puts down his pen with a frown. “That can be dangerous for an omega,” he points out. “What if you're not at a safe location when it does.”

That makes you snort and then realize you’re talking to the alpha who’s bought you to make you his wife and you look away sheepishly. “Sorry, it's just that I was either home or at work and maybe occasionally at the library.”

“I see,” Bucky says as he picks up the pen again, but you can't help but wonder if he truly understands. The mansion is enormous, clearly not something he built on his own—it's likely been in his family for generations. Everything about the place exudes wealth, including Bucky himself. His suit is so crisp it seems brand new, with barely a trace of scent, as if it's never been worn. How could he possibly know what it was like to live your life?

“And have you been alone for your heats or have you had help?” Your mouth falls open and you stare at him. “Excuse me?” “You heard me.” “That's none of your business,” you cross your arms.

He leans back into the chair, eyes thinning as he looks at you. “It's not?” “No, it's private.” “You forget one thing, little darling.” His voice is void of warmth “I own you.”

There it is, you think. The reason he's been unable to find a wife.

You don't answer that statement, well aware of your predicament. “Why do you need to know?” You ask instead. “Because it matters if my soon-to-be wife is a virgin or not.” “I'm not,” you bite out. “A mate I should be aware of that's going to cause trouble?” “No, we split a few years ago.”

That appears to please him, and he jots down another note before placing his pen back in the holder on his desk. “Good,” Bucky nods. “That's all for now, let's get you some breakfast,” he looks down at the watch on his wrist, “or brunch, and then I'll show you around.”

next

[doll3tt33]

‘cause when you know you know ⊹ ࣪ ˖

Summary: As you and Colin snuggled in bed, your attention was drawn to a note peeking out from his pocket. Despite his insistence that it held no significance, his anxious and secretive behavior seemed to speak louder than his words…

Tags: fluff, fem!reader, usage of Y/N (only a couple times), an anxious Colin and an overly curious reader who overthinks a loooot

Not that I think anyone’s gonna be mean, BUT PLEASE DONT BE. I HIGHKEY FEEL INSECURE ABOUT THIS 😭😭 THE PLOT FEELS RLY JUVENILE

"Nineteen... Twenty... Twenty-one! Twenty-one cute lil' freckles on your body, from head to toe," Colin declared triumphantly.

"Are you done yet, ya big doofus?" You rolled your eyes, giving Colin a playful shove. Colin, also known as the "idiot big spoon on your bed," wouldn't stop pestering you or your bare flesh.

"Uh, no? I didn't count for nothing. You know what I'm gonna do next?"

"I shudder to think! But please, do enlighten me," you replied in an airy tone, though curiosity shone through your feigned exasperation.

Seeing every subtle change in your expression was Colin's special talent, one he took pride in. As he gazed at you now, his face broke into that familiar, dorky grin you found so endearing.

His finger traced over the freckle on your shoulder. "I'm gonna kiss each of those lovely freckles on your equally lovely body... twenty-one times. Now c'mere!" he exclaimed, beckoning you closer. "Lemme shower my beautiful girl with some good ol' fashioned affection!"

Before you could protest, Colin swept you into his arms, holding you close against his warm chest. Soft giggles escaped as his lips began to tenderly graze each freckle, starting at your cheek and trailing lower. You squirmed in his grasp, half-heartedly attempting to twist away from his affectionate assault even as another peal of laughter bubbled up.

Undeterred by your token resistance, Colin continued peppering gentle kisses over your skin. His smile pressed against the mole on your neck, then lower to your shoulder and chest.

While Colin had you pinned beneath him, giggling and squirming, you spied a corner of paper protruding from his jeans pocket. Seizing the chance, you snatched it up while his hands were otherwise occupied.

"Ooooh... well well, what do we have here, detective?" you teased, waving the paper tauntingly. "Looks like I've found myself a clue! Hm... I wonder what mysteries it holds."

Colin instantly realized his blunder and made a swipe for the paper, but you held it out of reach. "Could it be a top-secret case file? Or... the numbers to your credit card? Really hope it’s the latter."

His eyes went round as saucers at the sight of the stolen paper in your grasp. In a flash, he snatched it back, hastily stuffing it deep down into his pocket.

"Nothing!- It's nothing, really," he said a little too quickly, his eyes darting about nervously. "Jus’ an old scrap from work is all, absolutely nothing to see here.”

But Colin knew you too well to be dissuaded so easily. The spark of intrigue in your gaze was fixed squarely upon the pocket concealing a supposed "old scrap." He recognized that look—once your curiosity was piqued, nothing could satisfy it but the truth.

"Nah, that definitely looks like something to me," you replied, your eyes still fixed on the hidden paper.

Colin chuckled nervously. "No. Don’t you dare start now. Just do me a favor and turn those pretty lil' eyes of yours away, 'kay?"

He even attempted to gently guide your head in the opposite direction with his hand, but your determination was unyielding. You refused to budge, still staring and now pouting. "Hey, don't push my head around! Just show me, please, Col? Pretty please?"

"Hm... pretty please, huh?" Colin pretended to ponder, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah, sorry, still no."

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"No."

"With two cherries on top? Three cherries and whipped cream?"

"Y/N. No. A gazillion cherries on top won't cut it. Seriously, there's nothing on that stupid piece of paper!" Colin insisted with a chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender.

You weren't convinced, noting the telltale signs that said otherwise - his overly casual tone, the tightness at the corners of his smile, the fidgeting fingers now plucking at a loose thread on the blanket. You could smell a load of bullshit right in this very bed. Colin had many strengths, but lying was definitely not one of them.

"Hm."

Your eyes narrowed into slits, harboring great suspicion at your nervous wreck of a boyfriend beside you. You leaned in closer, and he shrank back just as quickly, as if he were afraid you could smell the truth out of him.

"You're acting oddly suspicious," you observed. "Is it me, or do I feel like you're lying big time right now?"

Colin waved his hands as if to ward you off. "Woah woah, easy there now! I'm not lyin’. Can we just drop this now, please?" His voice pitched higher in a tell-tale sign of nerves.

You let out a whine. "But I know you're lying. Just tell me the truth already. I'm dying over here!"

"No, I won't. 'Cause like I said, I'm not lyin'!" Like he would actually tell the truth. You could practically see the sweat glistening on Colin's forehead. This man had a knack for getting incredibly anxious when faced with confrontation. Seeing him like this, a new emotion began to overshadow your initial eagerness to uncover the truth - fear. It crept up from the depths of your stomach, intensifying with each passing moment. A multitude of "what-ifs" swirled in your mind, ideas bouncing off the walls of your hyperactive brain, all trying to decipher what on earth could your boyfriend be hiding on that piece of paper.

As Colin fidgeted nervously, your mind raced through possibilities for what the paper contained. The most plausible - and worrying - scenario was another woman’s number. If that was the case, why didn’t he just come clean and tell you? He had always been open and honest with you about everything. Plus, there had never ever been a reason to doubt his unwavering loyalty... well, until now.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed Colin waving a hand in front of your face. "Earth to Y/N? You still with me?" he asked gently, peering at you with concern.

Lifting your head up to meet his worried gaze, there was a mix of confusion and disbelief evident in your eyes as you prepared to utter the words you never thought you'd say.

"That piece of paper... does it happen to have some lady's phone number written on it?"

"You can be honest, I promise I won't get mad," you assured, mentally bracing yourself to be hit with whatever response awaited.

“Huh?”

Your assumption clearly took Colin by surprise. Instead of the guilt-ridden glimmer you anticipated in his eyes, you were met with a face of sheer astonishment. Frantically shaking his head, he hurried closer to you on the bed, gently taking your hands in his.

"No nonononono- not the case at all! Not even close, I swear to God. It's just I-... um," he protested urgently, meeting your gaze with an intensity aimed at conveying his sincerity. Relief softened your smile, allowing him to continue.

"No lady gave me her phone number. All the paper has on it is... something I wrote. For you." A touch of pink rose in his cheeks as he dropped his eyes shyly. "A silly, overly sentimental thing that is, well, cheesy. And I mean really cheesy."

Your expression twisted to one tinged with guilt as you realized the weight of your relentless probing, falsely assuming Colin's disloyalty. Furrowing your brow, you directed an apologetic gaze in his direction.

"Shit, I'm sorry Col. I didn't mean to jump to conclusions like that. But honestly, you don't have to hide anything from me, no matter how silly you think it is."

"And hey, I'm a sucker for cheese!" you added playfully, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. "So whatever sappy words you wrote, I promise not to tease - much."

You graced him with a fond smile, hoping to ease his nerves. Colin swallowed hard, visibly steeling himself before digging back up the crumpled-up paper from his pocket. His shoulders lost some of their tension as he smoothed it out, lips quirking up at his own words.

"Oh boy... you asked for it. You're gonna be on a ride to cheese-land supreme with this one."

After a brief moment of silence, he took a steady breath, breaking the stillness in the air. He sat up straight, preparing himself.

"Alright, here goes..." He cleared his throat softly before reading.

"Dear Y/N... I know I should be focused on our latest case, but try as I might, I really cannot get a certain beautiful someone out of my head," he began, lips curling up as he skimmed his words.

"So here I sit, scribbling these sappy words on this flimsy piece of paper like a schoolboy, instead of working as I should. Terrible form, I know." At his own joke within, Colin let out a quiet chuckle and glanced up to gauge your reaction. Finding only fondness and encouragement, he relaxed enough to continue baring his heart through the silly note he'd written.

"I know my work can keep me away too long, and that you feel neglected at times. But please believe that you are always in my thoughts."

He risked a playful glance your way. "Even when you always find a way to talk my ear off or sprawl out to take up the whole couch, you still are.”

He continued, his voice growing softer. "But your quirks could never outweigh all my favorite little things about you, because I love you. I truly do.

Just like how I love that your smile and dimples are the first thing I notice when you step into the room.

Or how I love that your eyes light up at the mere mention of chocolate ice cream, and you'd beg me to buy you some even when you're full.

How I love that your brows crinkle when you think too hard and too long about something.

And how I love that you're the first person I think of waking up in the morning, and the last person I think of going to sleep.

You made me realize that when you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

You weren't expecting that, you truly weren't. Colin's heartfelt words truly touched you. As the first happy tears slipped free, you couldn't help but embrace him tightly.

Though startled at first, he quickly melted into your arms, ever your safe harbor. His familiar, comforting touch - a hand stroking your back, lips pressing softly to your forehead - undid you completely.

"Aw shucks, don't cry on me now," he soothed gently. But you could only burrow closer, overcome by gratitude and love for this man. He understood you so perfectly, from your quirks to your heart.

"Those better be tears from happiness and not tears from how god-awful that was," Colin laughed warmly as he wiped the last of your tears.

"No, it wasn't bad at all. For real."

"For-real for-real?"

"Well, okay, it was a tiiiny bit cheesy. But from the heart, which is what matters."

"Annnd if I detected a certain scene or two borrowed from 'When Harry Met Sally', who am I to judge?" You teased.

Colin gave an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, alright, you caught me copying shamelessly." His eyes were warm as he tucked an errant lock of hair behind your ear.

"But I meant every word, cheesy or not. Now c'mere you." Pulling you close once more, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. His words, however awfully cheesy (and a bit unoriginal) they may be, had completely warmed your heart nonetheless.

author’s note:

This feels kinda cringe, I honestly have no idea what I was doing with this tbh 😭 I’m on my period so I kinda got into the feels, then I saw that one scene from ‘When Harry met Sally’, and thought it’d be a good idea to write a fic

In all honesty, I just wanted an excuse to write about Colin, and perhaps strengthen my writing skills ((still mostly because of Colin tho

divider credit: @/vg-k

[the-desilittle-bird]

pls can u write a fic where reader (the bastard daughter of rhaenyra and harwin) is married to aemond for political reasons, but she know how to manipulate him whit her body and have him wrapped around her finger to secure his support in the war that is sure to come (smut pls)

AN- Damn! I really like a manipulative badass boss bitch reader... but the smut isn't as good as I had thought it would be but... sorry.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

You Love Me Right?

Summary- What is a greater charm than a woman's love?

Tag List- @eliseline, @little-moonbeam-666, @blackhoodlea, @omgsuperstarg, @shopping, @lizlovecraft, @dayane, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @all-things-fandomstuck, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @morganastrucker, @shrexy, @helloitsshitzulover, @daringboba, @minaxcarter, @b-tchymoon, @stargaryenx, @hukio, @saraelizabeth26, @targaryenmoony, @moon-light1415, @eudximoniakr, @themaze13, @candypurplebutterfly, @5moremin, @yariany02, @issybee0611, @gossipandspills, @hopebaker, @kateris-world, @lady-athanasia, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @cherryaemond, @watercolorskyy, @literishdegree99, @sunmoon-01, @savagemickey03, @ultrav0lence, @deltamoon666, @severewobblerlightdragon, @hyacinthus007, @andlizeth, @shine101, @beefbaby25

Warnings- Smut [Dirty Talking, Breeding Kink, Teasing, Almost(?) Oral (Male receiving)], Manipulation

GIF Credits to @imagine-all-the-things

The Dance has begun and so far, the Greens had the upper hand; all because of Aemond and his dear Vhagar. His formidable leadership and swordsmanship combined with Vhagar's experience in battles and dragonfire made him an important asset of his brother's cause.

To the world, he was cold and unbending. But the House of the Dragon knew well. They knew how his sweet little wife had him wrapped around her little finger.

Otto considered her smart. She knew her beauty was her largest asset and adding it was her sharp wits and undeniably alluring charms. Each word which fell from her lips were honeyed and well versed; a web made by a spider to catch her prey.

And that is why he remained vary of her when the dance began. Being the daughter of Rhaenyra and Harwin, he knew her devotion to her mother; unyielding and strong.

"Aemond," she squealed as hands wrapped around her petite figure, her plump lips painted in red as she turned to greet her husband with a kiss on his jaw; then down his neck and up to his ear.

"(Y/N)," he hummed, fingers rubbing her sides as his eye took in her seducing structure. Her brown hair open and brushed back, cascading down her spine. Her violet eyes were the curtesy of her mother's genetics.

Her figure was drapped in a black flimsy robe, ending just above her mid-thigh. The robe accentuated the best of her curves; her ample cleavage evoking a desire deep in him.

"Aren't you a nymph?" She chuckled, sending vibrations through his skin as she looked up through her lashes. Her fingers slowly moved up to get rid of the eyepatch covering his left eye and majority of the worst of the scar.

"A nymph in love with you."

Aemond's eye lingered on her covered breast, inviting him to feast on the soft flesh which would surely swell when his child takes place in her body. His finger fiddled with the lace holding the lace together, tugging on it to unwrap it.

"I want you," she whispered, turning around and tilting her head back to give him space to mark his territory. Kisses and nips evoked goosebumps through her body as one of her hand gripped his long hair, while the other grabbed onto the corner of her vanity.

"So do I, my love," he whispered, his sapphire glistening in the light of the candle. A deep moan left her throat when his lips found the spot which made her see stars.

"I received a message from my mother," she hummed sweetly, her fingers swiftly getting rid of the clothes which adorned his lean body; all while gentle kisses and teasing nips were granted in the freshly revealed skin as his tunic and undershirt met her dark robe on the ground.

Aemond only hummed, his mind already clouded with lust as he watched her bare body in front of him; moving like a seductress. Her soft hands found his shoulders, pushing him down to sit on the edge of their shared bed. A place which frequently ends up destroyed due to their marital tasks.

Her fingers nimbly worked on the ties holding his breeches together. They felt painfully tight as blood flew to his cock, making it hard and extremely hard.

"She is sad."

(Y/N) knew how this works. After all, it won't be the first time she is doing this. Seducing her own husband to accomplish something which was otherwise impossible.

"Why?" He rasped, breathing a sigh of comfort as his firmness left his breeches, which joined the pile of robes on the corner. His long, calloused fingers traveled into her brown hair as he felt her lay kisses on his inner tights.

Her tongue met the tip of his hard on, licking like a kitten feasting upon her milk but slower. Her long nails moved up and down his tights, sending a shiver down his spine as he groaned.

"More, my love," he pleaded softly, but both of them knew that she wouldn't compile to it; at least not just yet. Instead of taking him in her mouth, she moved up to lock his lips in a feverish kiss.

Their tongues battled against each other for dominance but at last, the princess let him win; granting him a disguise of control in their relation. One of the biggest lies in their marriage.

"She wanted to see me," (Y/N) gasped as she felt his hands fondling her breast, groping and swiping his finger on her sensitive nipple. A pornographic moan left her throat as she hummed in appreciation. One of the pros of marrying him.

Bringing him impossibly closer to her, she whispered in his ear, "I want you, my love." Suppressing the groans was becoming difficult for Aemond as his fingers traveled south to meet her wet core.

"So wet, doll. All for me?"

"Yes. All for you, my prince."

His fingers were quick to adjust his cock on her entrance; slowly entering her to give her some time to adjust to his large size. His long digits rubbing her clit to bring some pleasure during the slight sting of pain.

"So tight for me," he groaned into her neck, teeth sinking into her sensitive skin. Moving softly, his hips started with a soft rhythm, relishing in the moans which escaped her throat.

"All for you, Aemond," she whispered, breath hitching as his tip grazed over the soft spongy spot inside her which made her see stars. Her lower belly tightening with pure pleasure which rushed to snap at any moment.

"Cum for me, my sweet princess. Take your pleasure on me," her husband continued to speak filth in her ear as he groaned, feeling her walls clamp on his cock deliciously.

"I will paint your walls with my seed. Make sure you carry my child," he groaned, lips finding her nipple to suck on. Tugging on the other with his fingers, he felt her back arch. A loud moan of his name and the clamping of her on him indicated her orgasm.

Aemond came a second later; grunting her name as he filled her to the brim.

"You love me right?" She asked after a while, turning to her husband who was yet to recover. With his face a slight shade of red, eye blown with pleasure, he turned to her with confusion. "Of course, I do."

"And would you do anything for me?"

"Yes."

The smirk on (Y/N)'s face was hid as she snuggled into the crook of his neck; words heating his skin as she whispered, alluringly: "I wish to side with my mother. And I wish for you to be with me."

The silence was deafening and for once, she thought that Aemond would sit up and the next minute, the cold blade of his sword plunging into her warm body. But it never did.

Instead, a light whisper was spoken into her hair.

"Then your wish is my command."

[zepskies]

If You Want It To Be - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: When your car breaks down after a hunt, Sam and Dean tow you back to the bunker for Christmas. This time of year gives you and Dean a little courage to be honest about what you both want. And what you want, is for him to see you. (18+)

AN: Here’s one of my entries for @deanwinchesterswitch's TGWRC: Christmas in July event! ❄️ Hope you enjoy Part 1 of 3. (I will release one chapter per week! Possibly sooner. 😉)

Themes: Mistletoe (a classic), eggnog, Christmas dinner

Word Count: 3,900 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Bickering, fluff, jealousy, angst, friends to lovers, (eventual) smut.

Part 1: December 23

“I never thought I’d miss my own bed as much as I do right now,” you mutter. 

Though your body’s weary, you manage to heft your duffel bag onto your shoulder. Soon enough, you’ll be out of this craptastic motel.

More specifically, away from the cot that nearly broke your back while you weren’t sleeping on it. Who could sleep on a bed of rusty-ass springs?

But while Sam is already loading weapons and his things into the Impala, Dean seems to be taking his sweet time, fiddling with something by the solitary nightstand in between the two queen beds. Your extra cot is laid out in the corner (may it rot in hell). 

Dean glances up at you at your remark. 

“That’s the first thing we’ve agreed on all week,” he quips. And he smirks when you send him a mock warning look. 

“Don’t mess with me right now. Haven’t gotten my beauty sleep in three days.” You have to adjust your duffel on your shoulder. “What’re you doing?”

Dean’s smirk fades the longer he concentrates on trying to put on his watch. 

“Trying to…damn it, think this strap is done.” 

Sighing, you set down your bag on the bed and sit down next to him on the edge of it. You peer over his shoulder and see that the leather band is indeed broken. 

“Aw, that sucks. I can replace it for you if you want, since I’m the one who wrangled you guys out here,” you say with a frown. 

You called them for backup when you discovered the coven of witches. If you’ve learned anything about hunting over the years, it just isn’t safe to go after a group of those demon-worshipping assholes without help. And it gave you a reason to get back in touch with Sam and Dean…

If you’re honest, it gave you an excuse to see Dean. 

You haven’t seen him in months, but he and Sam came when you called. The three of you managed to take out all four of those bitches, after having to track them down across the plains of Indiana. 

At least it only came at the cost of Dean’s watch. 

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” Dean says. He tries to wave you off, but you shake your head stubbornly.

“Really, I mean it,” you say. “I’ll buy you a new one. Consider it an early Christmas gift.” 

Christmas Eve is tomorrow, and while you love this time of year (and your own bed), part of you isn’t looking forward to going home to an empty apartment. 

Dean looks up at you with a rueful smile. “Really, it’s okay. This one was my dad’s.”

At that, your guilt intensifies. “Oh…guess there’s no replacing that. I’m sorry.”

“This’s just what I get for hauling my ass out here, pulling yours out of the fire,” he remarks. Some humor creeps back into his smile. “As usual.”

“Hey, if anything, I saved your ass,” you tease back, even though you still feel guilty. “That he-witch was about to grate you into Swiss cheese.” 

And then you shot him between the eyes. 

“Oh, yeah?” Dean raises his brows at you. “And when Barbie girl locked you in her cellar, that was what, you taking a nap?” 

Your lips purse in response. You enjoyed seeing that platinum blonde bitch go down hard—with an iron chain wrapped around her neck. Dean held her down while Sam finished her off with two shots to the chest.

Trust Dean to try and take credit for the whole thing. You get up to your feet with a roll of your eyes, collecting your bag. You feel his presence burning behind you as you both head out of the motel.

“I would’ve figured it out eventually,” you say. 

“Right. Where have I heard that before?” Dean says dryly. He follows you to your car and watches you throw your duffel into the backseat. Maybe he admires the curve of your ass in those jeans for a bit too long while you’re bent over.

But his eyes snap back up to yours when you straighten, turning back to him with a wry look. For years, this is how things have always been between you. Playful, sniping, not entirely flirting, but not quite not either.  

Sam then comes around the Impala to give you a friendly hug goodbye. 

“Don’t be a stranger,” he says with a smile. You return it, giving his plaid-covered chest a light punch. 

“You two are the ones with the packed dance cards. I’m lucky I got you guys to even answer my call,” you quip. “I’m down to goddamn smoke signals here.”

Dean shakes his head and pulls you into his arms next. “If we’re screening anyone’s calls, it ain’t you, sweetheart.”

You huff at that, but your smile is more genuine when you hug him back. For a brief moment, you let yourself revel in his warmth, his spicy aftershave, the solid feel of him wrapped around your whole body like a perfect man glove. 

It’s so familiar to you, but bittersweet. Because all too soon, you have to let go. 

“It was good to see you,” you say, a little softer than you meant to. Dean’s lips quirk at a warmer smile. There’s something in his eyes you can’t name when he releases you. 

But with a sigh, you turn and get into your car—an old Ford Focus. 

“You’re really still rockin’ that rusted out piece of shit, huh?” Dean asks, watching you with crossed arms as you climb in. The door creaks loudly when you shut yourself in. You flash him a wan smile and lower the window (with the embarrassing hand crank).

“Since 2003. Good old Hubert hasn’t failed me yet,” you reply. And then you turn the ignition.

It splutters, but doesn’t start the car. 

What the fuck?

Frowning, you try it again. And again. And again.

Nothing. 

The brothers Winchester still stand between your car and the Impala in the parking lot. Sam shares a glance with Dean, who brushes a hand over his mouth as he watches.

Finally, you look up at them with a grimace when your car just dies. Kaput. There’s the sound of pressure releasing, along with your high hopes of making it home tonight.  

“Goddamn it, Hubert.”

That’s how you find yourself a guest of Le Bunker a few hours later, after Dean tows your car all the way to Lawrence, Kansas. 

“You’re welcome to stay for the holidays,” Sam tells you once the three of you make it inside. He leads the way down the winding staircase. Dean follows behind you. 

“That’s right! Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve,” you reply with a smile. 

Your family loves Christmas, but it’s just you this year. Your father is on an extended cruise with his new wife, technically your stepmother. When your dad asked you how you felt about them going on this trip, they seemed so excited about it that you didn’t feel like you could say no. 

So between watching Halmark movies by yourself all day and hanging out here with your friends, there’s really no decision to make. You agree to stay. 

Sam nods back at you and continues into the bunker. He goes on to greet Castiel and Jack in the living room. 

When you reach the ground floor, Dean lays a hand on your shoulder, prompting you to turn around.

“I’ll take a look at your car, see if we can’t get it running in a couple days,” he says.

“By Christmas? That’s a tall order,” you reply with a grin. “Even for Dean Winchester, Un-Certified Mechanic.” 

Dean smirks back at you, crossing his arms. “That a challenge, sweetheart?”

You pull out your best Charlie’s Angels narrator voice. “I guess it is. Your mission, should you choose to accept it.”

His gaze is warm with playful scrutiny, from your dirty sneakers to your jeans and black V-neck top, to the messy ponytail keeping your hair together. But you can’t help but blush at the lazy, damn near flirtatious way he does it. 

“All right. Challenge accepted,” he says, crossing his arms. “What do I get if I win?”

A smirk tugs at your lips. “My undying respect.”

He just hums and leans against the iron guardrail of the stairs, hands sliding into his pockets. 

“Not enough for you?” you ask.

He shrugs, unimpressed, like he can take it or leave it. You step up on one of the stairs and fold your arms on the guardrail, so you can be level with Dean’s eyes. 

“Okay. If you manage to miraculously get my car running by Christmas, you get one consequence-free request,” you offer. He raises a brow at that.

“Anything I want?” he asks. 

“Within reason,” you amend, though you’re starting to blush. It curves his lips.

“No questions asked?” he hedges. 

You think about it for a moment…

“None,” you shake your head. “We got a deal?”

Dean smirks back at you and crosses his arms. 

“Deal.”

Maybe the little bet is silly. You know very well Dean can fix your car in two days. Just as you know you need to keep a tighter lid on your feelings…

Now that you’re here in the Bunker, unable to escape him, there’s too much potential for spillage—of things you’ve long kept hidden.

It just never seemed like he was seriously interested. Even if he ever is, you also know very well that Dean’s not the dating type. And you…you just don’t think you can handle being another “hit and run” for him. 

Or a “sometimes” girl. 

Or even worse, a “when it’s convenient” girl.

If you think too long about it, that would just about rip your heart out.

So you ignore the thought of Dean again for a while. After you shower and change into some pajama pants and a loose top, you pad barefoot into the kitchen. Castiel is there to greet you, staring into a glass of orange juice. You raise a brow at him.

“You okay, Cas?” you ask.

“Pulp or no pulp, that is the question,” he muses. 

“Um…pulp?” you reply. 

He nods and takes a sip. “Pulp is good. Increased levels of Vitamin C. But I’m thinking no pulp is best. It eliminates the possible choking hazard.”

You don’t know quite what to say to that, so you nod. “Yeah, fair enough.”

You pause in your quest for a snack to look around the bare furnishings of the bunker. 

“What the hell’s going on here?” you ask. “It’s literally Christmas Eve. Where’re all the decorations?”

Jack comes in the kitchen, pausing from watching reruns of Judge Judy to join you and Castiel. He doesn’t know you very well, but he’s just as curious about you as you’re curious (and maybe a little wary) about him. 

You know Dean hasn’t totally warmed up to the Nephilim, but he seems kind, and you find his honest, natural inquisitiveness endearing.  

“I know about Christmas,” he says, smiling like he’s proud of that fact. “It celebrates the day of Jesus’s birth. Even though December 25 itself is not historically accurate, society has made up for that fact by intertwining pagan traditions and overbearing commercialism.”

“A very good way of putting it,” you say after a moment, chuckling. “Well done.” 

Jack grins at the praise. Castiel shares an amused smile with you, but his is more fond. 

“I don’t believe Sam and Dean are big on celebrating Christmas,” Castiel says, finally answering your question. 

You cluck your tongue and level both angelic beings with a determined look. 

“Well, that’s just not gonna cut it, guys. If I’m spending Christmas here, we’re doing it right,” you say. 

And with a growing smile, “Buckle up. We’re going to Walmart.”

As it turns out, “doing it right” takes pretty much all night. But you’re impressed with how everything came out. 

There’s now a large tree in the living room (a real one, bought in the Walmart lot of Christmas trees), decorated with three packs of lights, ornaments, and a nice star on the top, with a lacy red ribbon that overlays down the front. 

You worked your hardest on the tree, but you also directed Castiel and Jack with a new tablecloth for the war room table. Red candles in “fancy plastic” gold holders, tinsel and ornaments and several other Christmasy things that now brighten up the entire place with festive wonder. 

And all on the cheap. Though your wallet is going to smart a bit, considering you might’ve gone a bit overboard. Not just on decorations, but on some groceries, a few gifts, and maybe a couple of things for yourself…

You just don’t anticipate later falling asleep on the long table in the war room, with a roll of ribbon curled around your hand and tinsel in your hair. 

You wake up to a hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake. You groan, squinting against the twinkling lights, no matter how pretty they are in all their multi-colored glory.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”

“Huh…?”

“You’re drooling on the table. I’m guessing that’s a new tablecloth.”

“Whathefu…” You manage to open your eyes and raise your head, finding Dean smirking down at you. You blink up at him sleepily. 

“Aw shit,” you utter.

“That’s one way to greet somebody,” he intones. 

You just grin with exasperation, but you accept his help in sitting up with a groan. Every muscle in your body aches in protest from having slept on a slab of hard wood. 

His hand doesn’t leave your back until your bare feet are firm on the ground, though you lean on his arm for a minute while you rub sleep out of your eyes.

“Damn, I wanted to see your faces when everything was put up,” you say ruefully. Sam comes in with a smile and two mugs of coffee, one of which he hands to you. 

“It’s incredible! How’d you do all this?” he asks. “And thank you. You know you didn’t have to.”

You waved him off. “I wanted to. Plus, I had a little help.” 

You raise your mug to Castiel as he walks by with an iPad and a multigrain bar. It’s such a far cry from the angel you had met years ago—socially ignorant of human ways—that you have to smile. He returns it. 

“Jack’s still putting the finishing touches on the Christmas village,” Cas says. 

“Village?” Dean frowns. 

“We had him set it up in his room,” you tell him. “He was fascinated by the train part. And the fake snow. And all the little people…”

“Great, another nerd,” Dean remarks. 

“Be nice,” you chide. He shoots you a certain smirk.

“What do you mean? I’m Mr. fucking Nice Guy.”

“More like Scrooge,” you counter. 

“All right, Sweeney Todd. Might wanna fix the nest you’ve got going on there,” he retorts, gesturing at the wild state of your hair. You’re still picking out tinsel. 

You narrow your gaze at him. “Big talk from the guy wearing fuzzy slippers.”

Dean frowns, glancing down and shuffling his slippered feet. In his defense, the floor is cold.

“All right, I’ll just get started on breakfast then,” Sam says, cutting through the familiar bickering with a resigned grin. After a parting amused look at you, Dean follows him into the kitchen. 

“Wait, wait. You don’t know how the hell to make eggs. Let me get in there.”

Rolling your eyes, you share a conspiratorial look with Castiel, who smiles before taking his iPad into the living room. You take the opportunity to shower, brush your damn hair, and fix yourself into an actual human again. 

Suddenly inspired to put some effort in, you pick out a dress for once. It’s not the new one you might’ve splurged on for Christmas dinner tomorrow, but it’s a “just in case” dress you always take in your bag…just in case. 

It’s a black, comfortable fabric with simple long sleeves and a skirt that drapes above the knee. It’s just casual enough to wear around the bunker. But it can also be dressed up with some heels if you need to. This is not one of those times, thank God. 

You even take pains to do your makeup, light on the eyes but popping with a bit of red lipstick that you typically save for going out. Tis the fucking season. 

And maybe you want to wipe away that asinine smirk from Dean’s face. 

When you return to the kitchen, all four men are sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast, talking, and drinking coffee. That all pauses when they see you. 

“Morning, again,” you greet them. And you hum to yourself as you grab another cup of coffee. But you stop in your tracks when you realize they’re all looking at you. 

The ones who have tact (Sam and Dean) manage to return to their phone and iPad, respectively. But the angels are a little slow to look away.

“You look different today,” Jack says. 

Your lips twitch at a smile. “A good different?”

“Yeah,” he says, though the way he looks at you makes you wonder if he’s sure. You share a glance with Dean, whose face strains with an awkward I don’t know what to tell you smile. 

You don’t know it, but Dean’s gaze follows you as you putter about the kitchen. The sight of your smooth and shapely legs are enticing, especially the way the skirt of your dress keeps swishing along your thighs. 

Sam clears his throat, catching his brother’s gaze with amusement. Dean’s lips purse at being caught in the act of checking you out, but he swiftly ignores his brother to glance back down at his iPad.  

Shaking his head, Sam gets up after he finishes his breakfast and brings his plate to the kitchen sink.

“You going out or something?” he asks you. “There’s some eggs for you in the pan, by the way.”

You nod at that, grabbing yourself a plate from the cupboard. You’re starting to reacquaint yourself with where everything is in the bunker. 

“No, but it’s funny how you guys seem to think I live in my hunter gear all the time.” You arch a brow at Sam. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am a woman. Capable of wielding lipstick.”

Sam grins, raising up his hands in surrender. “By all means, wield away. You look nice.”

“Thank you,” you say dramatically. He snorts in response and moves to get around you. But that’s when Jack pipes up.

“Oh, look,” he says, pointing to a spot above you and Sam. “You guys are under the mistletoe.”

Your eyes widen. You glance up at said sprig, which hangs from a long string stapled into the ceiling, then at Sam as a blush starts to warm your face. He looks similarly caught off guard. 

“Who put that there?” you ask, cutting your gaze over to Jack in suspicion. His boyish grin is pleased, while Castiel fights a smile of amused embarrassment for you. 

Dean is oddly quiet though. His expression hides behind the hand he’s leaning his chin on, while his elbow rests on the table. You meet his eyes for just a moment, before you crane your head up to look back at Sam.  

You shrug with a grin and beckon to him with your hands. “All right, come ‘ere.” 

Sam’s face is a bit crunched with an awkward smile, but he obliges you by wrapping you up in a friendly embrace. 

You take his face with both hands and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. You feel his prickly stubble against your lips, but you don’t mind.

“Merry Christmas,” you say with a giggle. He chuckles in response and rubs your back warmly. 

“Merry Christmas,” he echoes, pressing a hand to your cheek. You’re one of those friends he counts as his family, and he’s truly grateful that you’re here with them for the holidays. 

You have similar warm feelings for the gentle giant as you pull out of his embrace. When you glance over at Dean, you don’t know what to expect to find. By the mild grin he’s sporting, he just seems amused by the whole thing. 

You inwardly shake your head at yourself, wondering if you should’ve just kissed Sam. Maybe then you’d figure out where you stand with Dean. 

And once you know for sure he doesn’t see you in any kind of way, then you can try to actually move on from Dean Winchester. 

You’re forced to sit across from him after you heat up your eggs and make some toast. He’s just scrolling through his iPad without a care in the world. 

But in reality, you couldn’t know that Dean is fighting not to look at you. Because the truth is, he didn’t like what he just saw…the obvious warmth between you and his brother. 

“We need stockings,” Jack notes, before he turns to you. “Wasn’t that on your list?”

“Ooh, you’re right. I think I forgot,” you reply. “To be fair, trolling around Walmart on three days of no sleep is ill-advised at the best of times, let alone at 12:00 a.m. on Christmas Eve.”

Sam chuckles at that. While Dean gives a slight smile, he’s still quieter than usual.

“Want to go grab some at the store?” Jack asks. You rub your chin in thought. 

“Well, I wanted to get started on baking some cookies for later.”

“I can take him,” Sam offers. Jack nods along with the idea.

“Okay, great,” you reply.

“Need anything else while we’re out?” Sam asks. 

“Hmm, nope! Nothing that I can think of,” you reply. Sam nods, and soon after, he and Jack leave for the store. 

You turn to Dean, intending to ask if he’d like to help you in the kitchen. Realistically, you know he’s not going to do much but stand there while you do most of the work, but it’s a chance to hang out, just you and him.

You’ve almost worked up your nerve to ask when Dean gets up from the table with his iPad. He says nothing to you before he starts toward the garage, making you frown. 

“Hey, Dean,” you call to him. 

He hesitates, turning back to you with an expectant brow. You want to ask him to stay but…ultimately, you lose your nerve. 

“Gonna work on my car?” you ask instead. He flashes you a smile that doesn’t completely reach his eyes. 

“Un-certified mechanic, at your service,” he dryly quips with a lazy salute. 

You quirk a smile as he continues on his way, but somehow, you feel unsettled. You turn to Castiel, and you remember the rest of your plan for today. 

“Hey, Cas.”

“Yes?” His head raises from his book.  

You give him a conspiring smile. 

“I have a special mission for you.”

AN: The stage is set, folks! Let me know what you thought of Part 1. 😘

Next Time:

Jack’s sprig of mistletoe once again lies above your head. Your heart trips up a bit faster as Dean looks down at you again, with a smirk. 

“My turn,” he remarks. His eyes are flirtatious, but they hold a hint of something deeper. Something you can’t name. 

“Are you gonna go for my cheek like I’m your cousin?” he says.

His raised brow is a challenge, and it makes you bite the inside of your lip. He can be so annoying, but you suppose he wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t make things more difficult for you.

Keep Reading: PART 2

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[yuyu1024]

I missed you

Pairings: Yoongi (Suga) × y/n

Genre/tags: idol secret dating

Warning: language, making out, semi public sex, pet names, fluff [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.40k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note: repost. Check pinned post for more ♥️

*******

He have been touring for a while. You wished you can accompany him and see the world with him but that's impossible. You have your own work and you can't risk people seeing you in every tour stop. It's for your own protection and also for his career. You don't want to ruin his career.

It maybe romantic to scream yo the whole wide world that he is your man and you both love each other so much. It's not always the best option.

But since it's been months since the last you saw him, you planned on going to one of his stop. You saved enough money and Vaction leave credits so you can stay for a week for him. Since he will be staying as well for work too.

----

Admiring the view from your balcony, you can't help but smile like a little kid while taking pictures of the sky, the buildings and everything you're seeing.



(Photo not mine. Ctto)

You got tense a little as hands snakes around your torso. "Having fun?" But the second you heard his voice, your body relaxes. You lean back, head on his shoulder and giving him access to kiss you on your neck. "I'm sorry, I'm a little late... we got caught in traffic on our way back."

"It's fine. I understand." Moving away from his embrace, you face him and admire how dashing he looks. "Your hair got longer..." you then tug his hair behind his ear.

"Well, you said you wanted to see me with longer hair so... I grew it out."

"Did I?"

"Yes, mentioned it before..."

"You really do pay attention to everything I say..." you giggle on how cute your boyfriend is. This makes you feel happy.

"It's because I love you..." he moves closer to you, making you walk back a little. Your lowerback now is leaning on the fence of the balcony. His face is just inches away from yours, "I missed you so much..." he say staring at your parted lips. "Wait.. You're wearing make up?"

You look away, a little embarassed. You're not the type to actually put make up all the time. Yoongi is used to seeing you barefaced since you two always meet in hiding. Either your apartment or his.

"Well, it's been so long since I've seen you... and... maybe... you've seen quite a few beautiful ladies around the world so..."

He snorts a laugh. He tries not to laugh but you can see how his shoulder is shaking trying to supress it.

"Yah!" You slap him by his shoulder, "what's so funny? Am I a joke to you now?"

"Oh, babe." He wraps you up in embrace, his hands, one at the back of your head and one at the back of your neck. His thumb lightly caressing you. "You know how much I love you... I don't care about other women. My eyes, heart, body and soul is just for you... my Y/n..."

You lock your arms around his torso. "I love you too... so much..." you nuzzles your face on his chest. "I missed you so bad... this have been the longest we were apart."

"I know..." he kisses the top of your head and then reaches for your chin to lift it up. "I've missed you to... and.." he pauses to kiss you. He does it with a very longing feeling. He is not rushing every move but he's very much leading the whole kiss. You can feel how he savours each lips to lips friction.

"Yoongi," you say as you lips parted from his, "I think we should get inside... we are exposed here..."

"Why? Don't you love to make out here? With this view?" His body is closer to yours. So close that both of your clothes are the only thing separating you both.

"I do..." You push your hair away from your face, "but don't you think... people might see us...?"

He leans down and begins kissing you on your neck then your exposed shoulder. You didn't realized he had already slipped the strap of your dress down.

"Yoongi..." you moan but you still try to stop him. "Babe..."

"We're on the 28th floor. We are facing the ocean... the other buildings are far away. They will not notice us..." he says quietly

He grabs both your hands by the wrist, throwing them around his neck for you to hold onto. He then takes one of your leg up around his hips. Pushes the skirt of your dress away, exposing your legs and giving him an easy access to your panties.

"Please...babe... allow me..." he runs his thumb over your already wet core. "I want to have you now... promise... I will be careful... if you're worried anyone would see us... I just..." your foreheard together, his eyes closed shut as he rub his thumb on you.

You didn't answer him yet. You want answer but your so indulged in the moment.

"Ah! Yes..." You hold on tight around his neck. You feel a sudden weakness on your body as he continues to rub your clit. "More... Yoongi... more..."

"Did you miss this?" He whispers to your ears. You nod. "How about this?" He pushes your panties to the side and slides one finger in.

"Fuck! Ah! Y-yes..." you cry. Your grip onto his shoulder like its life or death. "Please... so good!"

Yoongi slowly pushes another digit in you making you quiver with pleasure. "I love how you sound..." the rythm of his pushing in and out of you is making you go crazy.

"Please... I want you..." you says looking into his eyes. "I want... you..."

He picks you up like a bride. "Let's go inside. It's getting cold."

"I thought... you want to try do have sex here... for a change..."

"We can if you want to.. but I realized I don't want you to get sick. You get cold so easily..."

"Oh, okay."

"Plus, I don't think they are ready to hear us do this all night... maybe some other time. For now... all of your orgasm is mine to hear and enjoy."😈

[sp00kymulderr]

gideon!!!! congratulations on the milestone!!! absolutely so so deserved and i’m sorry I just now saw the post! 🖤

💭i’d like to request ''stay tonight.'' from the prompt list, maybe with ezra?? I miss him 🫶🏻

wonderful Liv! I'm so sorry this has been in my inbox since January. Me and Ezra were having a moment, but things are all good now. I humbly offer you this:

Starlit

sex worker!Ezra x afab!reader

694 words

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI. sex work, oral (reader receiving)

He is always the first thing on your mind when you arrive here.

The beautiful silver-tongued man with starlight in his eyes. Known by many and more than once by you, memories of him seared both on your flesh and in your mind.

Standards of travel have left you wanting, needing. Your fingers never work you the way another can, your touch never grips the way a lover can. Worst of all, the remembered whisper of his voice in your ear leaves you without the comfort of his warmth and sincere affection.

Ezra advertises his services as comfort. He sells sex, yes, but moreso he sells a few needed hours of companionship to the weary traveller, the tired prospector, the anguished fringeling far from home. He is generous with what he gives, not just in passion but in succour, in the intimacy of his whispered weaving stories as he holds you - he offers a piece of himself. Ezra provides comfort, and pleasure, and it is always more than worth the cost.

He is like an artist, you think. His art is being able to relieve the tired ache of your bones, and leaving your soul a modicum lighter than it felt upon arrival here.

There’s a stream of sunlight warming the bed as Ezra works between your thighs today. Your fingers hold in his soft hair with a gentle tug as he works what you can only describe as magic, that silver tongue finding it's way towards your second release of the day.

Your breath comes shallow; the way he flattens his tongue against you and stretches you on his fingers at the same time makes your legs shake in assailing delectation. He is a god, divinity in pleasure, and you thank you star that you came to find him on this miserable planet again.

You are, of course, just one of many but you like to think he doesn't look at the others the way he does you, the way his sparkling eyes meet yours as you look down upon him now, as he eats you like a blessed repast.

Your back arches, a gripping feeling of closeness tightening your core. His fingers curl, his plush lips sucks until you cry out and pull again. The room is hot and your bodies are warm, sticky. His own hips rut against the mattress as yours rise in increasing desperation. This gift of his, it takes you over. You are stardust as your body trembles, heart pumping wildly. The sweetness of release finally lays itself upon you. Oh. He is a god. Some spirit of heavenly pleasure.

You wish he could be yours forever.

You whimper his name over and over as you come down from a high unlike any other.

"Ezra...Ezra...my Ezra"

He kisses your twitching clit a few times more, never quite ready to give up your taste – he had told you before that he doesn’t do this only for the money but also for his own desires.

Finally he rises to lay over you, his body heavy and hot on yours, the hardness of him grinding against your soaked centre as he eyes you curiously.

"Yours?" He whispers, a devilish smile on his lips that makes you quiver again lustfully.

"Yes, mine...tonight?" You whisper, thankful that he understands it when you words are staccato and flustered.

You've never had him stay for more than a few hours. Never been so lavish with hard earned credits, but money feels no object right now as your cunt flutters and pulses at the thought of a full night with him. To wake up beside him is an experience worth all the money in the universe, you imagine.

Your fingers play in the white-blonde patch of hair. Curious, like him. You know little of this man and yet you want him in your bed for as long as you can possibly keep him.

He is a symphony of raucous desire.

“Stay tonight” You murmur, pulling him in to a searing kiss as soon he nods his agreement.

You know so little of him, but what you do know if that one night with this starlit man - even though it makes you poorer - will make you richer in heart and soul.

[andydrysdalerogers]

To The Limit - Five

F1 Racer Johnny Storm x OFC Maya Levinson

Summary: He's been away from the sport for 2 years. He has 24 races to prove he belongs here. There are two things that could derail this: his family and her.

She's the one thing he is willing to push to the limit for.

This a sequel to my original story, "Following Team Orders" If you want to get caught up in my Formula One world, you can find it HERE

The tag list is open!

Future Warnings: references to a partner's death, cheating (but not by the MCs,) alcohol consumption, SMUT!, angst, racing incidents, language, grief, etc.

Moon Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Car divider and Banners by me!

Previous Chapter: Three

Story Master List // Main Master List

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Two Years Ago 

Johnny 

I closed the door to my suite and ran a hand through my hair.  Ferrari was “kind” enough to allow me to stay here and booked me a flight home since the news of my firing was being withheld until after the holidays.  Nick said something about the sponsor or whatever.  Frankly, I tuned him out after he told me I wasn’t being re-signed.  

But now I face Molly.  We had one night together a couple of months ago and she’s now pacing back and forth.  I took her in as I waited for her to speak. She was a beauty. Chestnut hair that fell to the middle of her back, dark blue eyes and a body that could make any man fall to his knees.  I was willing to spend several nights with her, but she disappeared the morning after.  I asked Liv what happened, and she had no idea.  

“Johnny, I’m really sorry for ghosting you like that.” Molly is ringing her hands over and over.  “I just... I’ve never done that before and...” 

I take her hands in mine.  “Hey, hey, hey, breathe Molly. Take a deep breath.” She inhales. “Slowly let it out.” She follows my directions, but I can still feel her trembling in my hands. “What’s going on?” 

A single tear falls down her cheek.  

“Johnny, I’m pregnant.”  

Present 

When you are a cocky bastard like I was, you don’t make a lot of friends. I had Charles but that was about it. At least, until Olivia.  

Olivia Williams, now Rogers, was a force of nature.  She is the sixth woman to compete in Formula One and the only female champion.  When she came here, every red-blooded man thought the same thing: I want to bang her.  And trust me, I took my shot, but she very nicely put me down.  The day we became friends was one of her worst days.  I didn’t take advantage, though lord knows I would have but she was my fellow driver, my co-worker, my sister at arms.  She needed me to be her brother in that moment and I was.  

We talked more after that.  Hung out and got to know each other. I knew about her assumed unrequited love with her racing partner, Steve. I knew about how she had thrown herself into dating his best friend, Bucky. She was lost but I tried to be her anchor in the storm.  She was under a lot of pressure and Rogers did not make that easier.  

I was happy for them, truly, when they both got their heads out of their asses and finally got together. And I was able to make friends with Steve and Bucky. Besides Charles, I am closest to Liv and that’s how I find myself at their house in London a week before Australia. I sipped my coffee as my son bounced on Steve’s knee and he “baby talked” with him, blowing raspberries on his little round belly.  

Ever seen a six-foot, two-time champion talk baby talk with a 15-month-old? It so disgustingly cute. 

“Practicing?” I comment to him as Mattie giggles from the raspberries on his belly. Mattie babbles a little, almost ready to talk.  

“Absolutely.” Steve is beaming and that’s rare for a man I know to be serious 90% of the time.  He’s only ever chill when it comes to Olivia except when he’s in protective mode.  

Liv comes in with a plate of cookies and a bottle for Mattie. “Can I feed him?” she asks. I nod and she takes my son into her arms.  “Here we go, Mattie, some milky to help you sleepy,” she coos. The little shit always bats his lashes at a pretty girl, especially Liv.  

“I would say something about having your boy backing off my woman but he’s just too damn cute,” Steve says as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Thank god he takes after his mother.”  

“Flick off Roger,” I reply, grabbing a cookie.  

“Flick? Really?” 

"I’m trying not to swear in front of my kid. He’s so close to talking and the last thing I need is his first word to be a swear. Molly would have my ass.” I stop as I realize what I said. I swallow and try not to let the mood go down.  

Steve changes his temperament quickly. “Hey, sorry, guess it something I should learn now with my own baby coming.”  

“Yeah,” I chucked flatly. “Babies change everything.  Most of the time for good.”  I run a finger of my son’s cheek as he sucks on his bottle. I hate that he’s getting big.  soon he’ll be talking and walking away from me. He’s so close to walking.  

We sit quietly for a few minutes as Mattie drifts off.  I take him from Liv and put him in the portable crib Liv and Steve keep for me in their house.  “Have a good nap, Slugger.” I head back out to the garden and sit.  

“Not that I don’t love when you visit, Torch, but I’m surprised you're here. I thought you would be at the factory or something.” 

“I needed some advice, and I knew if I didn’t bring Mattie, you’d castrate me.”  

Liv smiles and shrugs. “I love my godson, sue me.”  

I snort. “Yeah, well, I do have kind of a big problem.” I take a sip of my own coffee. “You know how Ari agreed to keep Mattie away from the spotlight and helping me and Susie with privacy?” They nod and I continue. “Our PR rep found out.”  

“Maya?” I nod. “Oof, I know she didn’t take that well.”  

“She doesn’t know.” I look at the ground. 

“That he’s your son or...” 

“No, I said he is my son, but she doesn’t know the whole story. She doesn't know... she doesn’t know about Molly or anything.” Liv tries to speak but Steve stops her to let me continue. “We ran into Maya as we were leaving, and I got us out of there without an explanation. I’ve been dodging her calls and just following my scheduled as instructed.  But with the race weekend coming up I know my avoiding time is coming to an end.”  

Steve studies me for a bit.  “You like her.”  A statement not a question.  

“Yeah, I do.  She’s nice or whatever.” I explain us meeting at the gala and having a great night but then a week later, Molly came back and I let go of Maya in my mind. I shake myself from the memories. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”  

“You want to go out with her,” Steve continues.  

“She has a boyfriend.  She’s dating that Sainz guy.” I grit my teeth. “The guy who took my spot.”  

“Easy, Torch.” Liv touches my arm. “He got hired after.”  

“Whatever,” I shrug her off. “Either way, I have to give her an explanation and I’m just not sure what to say.”  

“Be honest,” Steve offers. “She may not be with him forever and you never know. I wish I had done that with Liv. It would have saved us a lot of heartache.” Liv nods in agreement and leans her head on his shoulder. “That's my opinion at least.”  

Honesty. Why didn’t I think of that.  

Maya 

Being the public relations person for a Formula One team is not as easy as stats and winners.  the public is invested in the team, the cars, the drivers that, when I started, I had to take notes on things I hear over the radio and ask Ari about them later. Nowadays, I know everything that is happening with the team.  

Except for Johnny Storm 

The shock I felt when he introduced his son to me hasn’t lessened in the two weeks since. He has a son. A beautiful son who is his duplicate except for his hair.  He has chestnut waves compared to Johnny’s blond. He didn’t look more than a year old.  

How did he keep a secret like this from the world? I investigated and searched everything on the man. The last article that he was in before his return was an obituary. That was odd and I disregarded it.  The last article before that was about his dismissal from Ferrari.   

That was handled with the grace of a rhinoceros.  Ferrari did him dirty. I was angry when I read the releases. They didn’t even give him a chance to shop; they just let his contract run out on the promise of a renewal.  Then to announce Carlos less than an hour later, I would have fired my PR team for it and then raised hell with management.  

Johnny was a beloved driver on and off the track. He did so much for Ferrari and suddenly he was gone.   

And now I know why.  

It didn't make sense before, why didn’t he approach other teams.  He had a baby to take care of.  That leads to more questions, like where is his mother and why is his sister caring for his son.  How did no one know?  

Johnny is an enigma. Before, he was a hot head speed demon. Fearless on the track.  He was good, great even. Why Ferrari let him go is everyone’s guess.  Only Nick Fowler would know. I would love to solve this.  

But I would need Johnny to answer my fucking calls.  

First thing in PR is that you have to know everything. Nothing can remain a secret, especially if you are trying to keep a secret. This led to a confrontation with my brother... 

I stormed into his office, slamming the door closed. “Ari, are you trying to kill me?” 

He put down the report he was reading. “Maya...” 

“No! You can’t keep things from me, especially when it could lead to a shitstorm.  He has a kid that no one knows about!” 

“I know! He told me before he accepted the job.”  Ari sit against his desk, legs and arms crossed. “I know it's a big deal but he’s just trying to protect his son and his past.”  

“And I can help with that if I was read in!” I huffed in exasperation. “I need to know everything, Ari, you know this.  The best defense is the best offense. You need to get him to talk to me.”  

“Alright, alright. I’ll talk with him. But give him some grace Maya. Listen to his story before you pass your PR judgment.”  

Now, I was waiting for Johnny to finish up with practice. The Australian sun is unforgiving to the cars today and everyone is struggling with tires. But I can hear the frustration in his voice. The car is not handling the way he wanted, losing force on the straight away. This isn’t the sun causing problems.  

Johnny: tell me the engineers are seeing this. It’s fucking ridiculous   Liv: they are on it Torch 

Johnny: I have so much more power out of the corners. The front right is struggling on the straight.   Liv: copy 

I turn and look at Ari. He has a grimace and makes a note on his notebook. I snort at the image. My brother is still so old school. Like he doesn’t have a bank of monitors and computers not to mention his phone to use. “Dinosaur,” I mumble under my breathe. Liv heard me and changed her chuckled to a cough to cover up.  

Liv calls out to Johnny to box the car. I watch as our silver arrow comes in and watch the mechanics pull the car into the garage and start cooking it down. Once parked, Johnny climbs out rather calmly for someone who is very frustrated.  

Ari walks right up to him. “Tell me what you’re feeling?” Johnny looks at him lost. “How did the car feel?” 

Johnny looks pensive, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “It pulls,” he starts, “as soon as I hit the corner. When I exit at the straight, I feel the cars downforce struggle like extra weight is being added. Once I can get enough force to move, it too late to take advantage of DRS.”  

“Ok good.” Ari smiles a little. “Anything else?” 

Johnny stares at him but what he says next leaves me curious.  “I don’t feel connected to the car. I feel like we aren’t one yet. I used to feel that but right now I feel like an imposter.”  

“There,” Ari points at him. “That’s what I’m looking for.  You need to reflect and think about that. You aren’t an imposter. You are a Formula One driver.  You need to let go of everything on the outside and feel the car like it's a part of you.”  

“I can’t do that,” Johnny argues back. He glances at me but doesn’t stop.  “I can’t not think about him and what would happen if something happened to me. I’m the only one he has.”  

“Storm, you are not alone in this.  Matthew is not alone. He is surrounded by this team, this family. You must trust that while you have car, we have Mattie and you.  We’ll do our best to get you back to you son every time. But you need to let go of the fear that is holding you back.”  

“I don’t know how.” Johnny looks defeated, like he’s failing. 

“That’s ok. We do have the team psychologist. Talk to her and see what she can do to help.  I know it's been hard without...” my brother pauses, and I make a note of that. Ari clears his throat. “But I want you to succeed. For yourself, your son.”  

I’m impressed that Ari didn’t mention the team.  He’s in charge of the team, has to care about its wellbeing. But right now, he’s a friend, a mentor. I decide to speak up. “Johnny, you don’t have to worry about press. I’ll coach you on what to say so we can downplay the difficulties with the car.” 

He finally looked at me and then nodded.  

“Good. Head back to the hotel and rest.” Ari looked at me. “After you meet with Maya.” Well, that’s one way to get what I want. I give Johnny a PR smile. He clenches his jaw in reaction. He’s not happy to talk to me but I have no idea why. “Let’s head to the conference room,” Ari suggests, dismissing the rest of the team. Liv follows Johnny, arm and arm, speaking quietly to each other. I frown at that. Ari leaned down. “They are best friends. Him, her, Charles, Bucky and Steve. Don’t let your PR brain go to hard.”  

I sighed. “Ok.” I walk into the conference room and Liv is sitting next to Johnny. “Liv, what are you doing?” 

“Johnny asked me to be here,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at me. Wow, she’s got momma bear look down pat. I just nod and take a seat across.  Ari hangs out in the back leaning against the sideboard with his signature arms cross.  

Johnny looks at everyone and sighs. “Two years ago, a one-night stand told me she was pregnant. And then eight months later, my wife died, and I was left with my son.”  

NEXT

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Kiko’s Masterlist

This is a Master for the important links for my stories 😊

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Another Level Masterlist

Status: Complete

“You’re a Zenin.”

More like an unwanted mistake. Which, funny enough, had actually been the first words she ever heard her father say to her. - Kurisaki Rinko was born an unwanted bastard child to the Zenin clan, having since grown into an unwanted bastard adult. Her stubborn refusal to be discarded resulted in a display of strength that many would call (they had, many times to her face, in fact) an unhinged lack of self-preservation. But lucky for her, that unhinged display caught the attention of a particular blue-eyed menace who happens to be more fun to rile up than anyone she’s ever met.

Read Another Level on AO3

Physical Paradox Masterlist

Status: In Progress

How they went from: “I’m kinda impressed,” Gojo stated, sliding his sunglasses onto his face. “Didn’t expect a psych major to know this much about philosophical theory.” Rinko blinked at him slowly, raising her eyebrows as she scoffed. “I’m sorry, mister unresolved childhood trauma,” she said, stepping closer and poking a finger in his chest. “But I don’t really give a fuck if you’re impressed.”

To: “Your professor is leading the world of cognitive and behavioral research,” Gojo told Rinko's students, chest swelling with pride. “And she’s really pretty-” “Oh, she’s fucking gorgeous!” he agreed. “She has it all. Smart, funny, beautiful. She’s honestly perfect. It’s incredible she-” “Married you?” Touma interjected. “I know. I thought the same thing when I first met you.”

Read Physical Paradox on AO3

Gokudō Masterlist

Status: On Hold (I will finish this eventually, though)

Gokudō (極道): the extreme path. A term used to refer to members of a Yakuza syndicate.

-

“Now, why is a pretty girl like you in an ugly place like this?” “Some might say the contrast is tragically poetic,” she replied easily. “Yeah, well,” he drawled, a smirk pulling at his lips as he stepped up to stand beside her. “Others would say it’s tragically idiotic. What’s your name, pretty girl?” “Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?” she asked, her pulse jumping at his quiet chuckle. “You already know who I am.”

-

She never asked to be part of this world. A world filled with greed and violence and revenge. She never asked to be part of the world where life was as meaningless as dust. The world stained red by the blood that pooled beneath her mother’s body after she was forced to watch her die. She never asked to be part of the world driven by hatred and bloodlust, but she never asked to leave, either.

Read Gokudō on AO3

One-Shots

Before I Love You - (angsty Gojo/Rinko AU, hopeful ending) - Part 2: Broken Lens | Author's Discussion

Fight Me? - (Nurse!Gojo shoots his shot with a grumpy patient)

Blurbs

For Your Health - (College!Gojo just wants to help his girlfriend stay healthy)

Untitled Unfinished Angst (very angsty Goinko bc Kiko is not ok)

Previews

Untitled (a self-indulgent Goinko AU about healthy relationships) - Preview 2

Bittersweet Memories (an angsty au inspired by The Vow)

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Meet some characters

Another Life - Short Story

[thefallennightmare]

Moment of Weakness-nineteen

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Author's Note: I'm sorry for the typical, cliche story line but it's the only thing I could think of when creating ideas for this story. Last one for tonight so you will have to suffer until the next update. 😉

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I walked into the building, smiling bright as the morning sun, ready to finish this work day already. After he left last night, Bucky promised that when he would come by tonight, he would stay the night. He had planned on telling Natasha that he had to go out of town for something mob related. 

There was already a list of things I had planned; dinner at home, a movie cuddled together on my couch, and a warm bath to end the night. It was something that we had yet to do, a proper at home date. 

My body jumped with excitement every time I thought about it. 

A frown pulled at my lips when I noticed that Bucky’s door had been closed. He didn’t have any meetings planned so there was no need for it to be shut. Bucky also always took his phone calls with the door opened. 

I placed my things on my desk and softly knocked on the door, only to be met with silence. The thought of if he was coming in today or not crossed my mind so I sent him a quick text. 

Are you not coming in today? 

Some time would pass before I would even get a response. Three hours to be exact. 

By the time Bucky had decided to text back, it was nearing lunch hour and I was busying myself to run to the deli across the road to pick us all up something. Steve and Sam were playing a card game on the couch that sat across from my desk and Steve noticed the worried look on my face. 

“Everything alright?” 

By the mere tone in his voice, I could tell that the relationship we shared was not the same anymore. 

“Yeah,” I mumbled, not bothering to take my eyes away from the text on my phone. 

I’m held up in my office all day, sorry.

It was short, to the point. No sweet names or cringey emojis that Bucky had just found out of. This wasn’t like him, something being different; off. 

Steve stood to walk over to me. “Bucky?” 

I peered over his shoulder to make sure Sam wasn't paying attention and nodded. 

“Have you talked to him at all? I feel as if he’s avoiding me,” I said. 

He hesitated, unsure if he should even say anything. I could see it in the way he avoided my gaze, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

Steve was hiding something from me. 

“What do you know?” I asked. 

“I can’t be the one to tell you, Y/N. Bucky has too.” 

With a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, he went back to his previous spot on the couch. 

I gnawed on my bottom lip while gazing at the still shut door to Bucky’s office and decided to give it one more try, seeing if he would talk to me. 

“Bucky, can I come in?” I asked after my knuckles rapped against the door. 

There was quite a bit of shuffling behind it and my heart hammered when the door opened, revealing a very stressed Bucky. 

My voice lowered. “Are you okay?” 

He nodded. “I’m going to skip lunch today.”

The door shut just as fast as it opened and I was left staring at it, tears brimming in my eyes. 

“Y/N,” Steve’s soft voice called from behind me. 

I blinked a few times, tears splattering over my cheeks, and quickly grabbed my things to head to lunch.

I don’t know what I did to make you so upset with me but I don’t appreciate the cold shoulder all day. I’m about to leave for the day and you’ve barely come out of your office.

I hit send on the text while walking back to my desk from the bathroom. The day went on at a slow pace, my eyes darting from my computer to Bucky’s still shut door, not once seeing him come out of his office. That was the third text I sent him all day and with yet no response, I decided that tonight was officially off the table. He would not be rewarded with spending the night with me after ghosting me all day. 

As I returned back to my desk, I noticed that the door was wide open, and my feet practically dragged me across the threshold. Until I stopped myself when I saw that he made no effort to look away from his phone when he heard me walk up. Not even a quick glance my way. 

“Asshole,” I grumbled, plopping into my chair. 

Six minutes. That’s all I had left of my workday and I could go home to wallow in self-pity in private. 

I used that time to scroll through Instagram, not having the chance to be on it all day. My thumb froze over one post, almost unsure to like it or not, because everything around me faded to black. Ears rang loudly with white noise and my heart dropped to the depths of my stomach as it shattered. The pain caused a sob to leave my lips. 

Cannot wait to meet you baby Barnes. Coming in six months. 

My vision blurred from the tears that spilled everywhere but I still could see the picture Natasha had posted announcing her pregnancy. It was a picture of a positive pregnancy test with her and Bucky’s vibranium hand holding it. 

With a broken gaze, I looked over to him and was shocked that Bucky was already watching me. His own eyes were broken, tears pooling in the corners of them. 

“I’m so sorry, doll,” he mouthed. 

No words were able to form, my mouth had run dry. I didn’t know what to say, to be honest. All I could do was gather my things and storm out of the office, the door slamming behind me shaking the walls. 

The persistent knocking on my front door was becoming too hard to ignore, it going on for the last five minutes. In tangent with my phone ringing, not stopping for a second. I did my best to tune it all out, staring off into the void of my living room wall, wishing it would stop; wishing everything would stop. 

“Doll, please open up.” 

“Go away,” I yelled, the anger suddenly bubbling to life. 

“Please let me explain!” 

I scoffed while shaking my head, even if Bucky couldn’t see. “Explain?!” 

Everything I had been avoiding came rushing to the forefront when I heard him begging me to let him in, to explain his actions. 

My feet dragged me to the door and I opened it with such force, it created a small wind tunnel. Bucky didn’t bother waiting for me to let him in, he pushed himself past me. 

“I’m so sorr-.” 

His apology was cut off by a hard slap to his face, my palm already stung with redness. 

Bucky rubbed at the raw spot where I had hit him and his jaw tensed. “You hit me.” 

“Trust me, I want to do a lot more!” I seethed. 

“Can you calm down so I can explain?” He begged. 

“Calm down?!” My voice bellowed. “You get your wife pregnant, hide it from me, then come here to explain yourself? How the fuck can I calm down?!” 

My shoulder rammed into his as I walked past him and down the hall towards my bedroom. His footsteps that echoed down the hall told me that he was following me close behind. 

“I wanted to tell you, Y/N. All day I tried to come up with the best way,” Bucky said. 

I spun on my heels and pushed him hard in his chest, my actions doing nothing to deter him. 

“Fuck you, Barnes! You’re such a liar!” 

I began beating his chest with my fist, pure hatred fueling my momentum. And he stood there, taking every hit. 

Out of breath, I let my fists fall to my side, and felt my chest rise and fall each time I swallowed a large amount of air. 

“Feel better?” Bucky asked. 

My eyes narrowed. “Go fuck yourself. I never want to see you again.” 

His shoulders dropped. “You don’t mean that.” 

I nodded, even if I didn’t believe it myself. “Get out.” 

Bucky didn’t move so I pushed him harder in his chest. “Leave. Now!” 

“Doll-.” 

I smacked him yet again, this time with so much force he stumbled back onto my bed. 

“You lost the right to call me that the second you put your dick in her, Bucky! I can’t believe I fell for your lies again.” 

I ran a shaking hand through my hair. “I allowed myself to ignore the red flags because I cared that much for you. I believed that you wanted me, wanted a future with me. I bet the divorce was a lie too.” 

Bucky vigorously shook his head. “I promise you. That was all true. Matt finished the papers this afternoon.” 

“When did it happen?” I abruptly asked. 

He hesitated, unsure how to answer. “A few months ago. It was the night I drove you home from work and we had sex in the back seat.” 

If my heart wasn’t in a million pieces before, it for sure was now. 

“You’re such a dick!” I screamed while pushing him down on my bed. “I knew you were still screwing her.” 

Bucky leaned his elbows onto his knees and held his head in his hands. “You don’t understand how terrible I feel, Y/N. I wish I could take it back.” 

I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand. “Are you still leaving her?” 

He gazed up at me, lips parting and eyes welling with tears. “I can’t. She’s having my child.” 

My eyes shut, his words giving me exactly what I needed to end this. 

I pointed towards the door. “We’re finished, Bucky. You need to leave.” 

He was fast on his feet to reach for me. “No, it doesn’t have either.” 

“Yes it does!” I wailed. “It’s one thing to break up a marriage but I refuse to break up a family.” 

Both of us were crying, not bothering to stop or hide the tears, and Bucky wanted to reach for me, fight for me, but knew that there was no changing my mind. 

“What about work?” He asked with a glimmer of hope. 

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. “I can’t afford to quit. So I’ll see you next week. I need to take some time off.” 

Bucky nodded. “I didn’t want to hurt you, doll.” 

I grabbed my elbows, bringing my arms closer to my chest and avoiding his gaze, keeping my eyes trained to my feet. The only thing I could hear over his footsteps walking away from me was my broken cries, my body collapsing to the ground. 

[yakuly]

Desaparecer | B. CH

Pairing: IdolBangChan x NonIdolreader (mainly neutral gender, but reader has a female body)

Words: 1.3017 (sorry)

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please stay safe people), marking (both), oral (reader receive) Chan slightly soft Dom but he's also a little shit at the beginning, slight overestimulation (reader receive), and they are both a little insecure at the end of it.

This work it was requested!

A/n: first of all, I'm kinda impressed with myself for the good warning tags (yay), second of all I hope the anon that request like It, and who reads it too. I loved to write it, and got even more better than what I planned. And also it's been a while since I wrote a smut, so please be honest with it (but not mean tho), and I haven't proof readedz so who knows. That's for the attention, and food reading!

(the gift isn't mine, credit to the beloved soul who made it! ❣️)

💌: @marcillfll

For many days you wondered if it what are you doing? You have a really good life, a very stable routine, finding happiness in little details... But is your boyfriend actually part of it?

It should be, right? He is your boyfriend afterall! You should be happy with his company, his words, his presence, your special days, your regular days that turned into something special because of him... Except Christopher Bang it isn't a regular guy with a regular position, that can provide you all of that.

He's a international Korean Idol, and more importantly a very needed base to his group "Stray kids". Sonic it's hard to have a very knowing boyfriend, that has a lot of responsibilitys, add the fact that you need to keep your relationship a secret.

So that perfect relationship you dreamed for years, it isn't actually like you dreamed of...

Well you got really lucky with Chris! He's a very sensitive, romantic, attentive, sweet boyfriend; he is also really reliable about anything and everything, and you can't lie, he's a ver ver good looking boy. But sometimes you just can't get away with the feeling that you don't actually have him.

Something that Bang Chan is actually pretty aware of it. That's why he decided to plan a weekend only, giving the both of you hours of moments alone together.

You didn't actually knew what he was planning on, but once, in a very boring and slow Friday, you recieved a text from him, saying that you should pack some stuffs for a weekend a way, you knew you couldn't be disappointed.

...

"Morning my love!" Chris voice being the first one you listen on a Saturday morning, it was a hell of an indication you would have a really good day.

You were finishing getting ready with for meeting him in only a couple of minutes, until you hear his voice coming from your living room. Running after him, you can't help but jumping on his embrace, giggling just like he did when he saw your figure.

"Missed you" you mumble on his neck, ticking slightly, but Christopher couldn't care less. He hugged your body closer to his, both of you selling each other's perfume. "Missed you too my love"

"Where are we going?" You asked finally taking your head out of his neck to look at his gorgeous features, and like that you catched his eyes shining bright, and you felt the warm of his love through it.

Bang Chan smiled, one of his childish smiles, that you slightly mirror it. The boy Negou com a cabeça shaked his hands before saying "Sorry love, confidential information" and laughed at your whining about it.

...

You had no idea where Chan was taking you, but you knew it was very far, since when more trees started to appear, he loses his face mask and cap, keeping only his sun glasses, making him even more beautiful.

"The view it's on the other side, y'know?" The boy jokes, but you hold his hands and simply say: "really? I don't think it could compare to what I'm seeing" and those words made the boy blush and giggle, and God, how you missed this sound!

Trying to take away the attention, he turn on the volume of the radio, and laying his hands on your thighs squeezing it a little bit. And you can't control those goosebumps that spread your skin at it, so you tried to play it cool, and got your phone in hands.

"Chanie, not to be that person, but you know we are getting without phone signal, right?" you didn't really care much about it, but as a leader, composer and producer, Bang Chan basically needed that like air.

"I know" he simply said, quickly looking at you and smiling "it's for to turn the phone off, so no one can bothers us" Christopher than holded you hand on his lips, where he kissed "we're going to... desaparecer"

...

The place your boyfriend booked it was really nice. It was a simple regular house, but it had a nice view of trees, the sky pretty clear, and the moon shining very bright and perfect.

"What we should do first?" You ask feeling his arms sneaking around your waist, and that alone makes your heart beat hard and fast. Chan begins to trails soft kisses on your neck, and you shivers under his touch.

"Huuum how about..." he starts speaking still trailing kisses that makes the air leave your lungs, and close your eyes, feeling very conscious about his body pressed against yours. "...you going to the room, take a nice shower, dress fancy, and come down here so I can give you a amazing date night?"

You smile turning around on his embrace. Holding his face in your hand, you caress his cheek, taking in the whole bang Chan you have in your arms. Your eyes wander his face until reach his voluptuous lips, and slowly you get your face closer to his, seeing the boy you now holding do the same, closing his eyes after staring at your lips. He can already feel the taste of your gloss on him...

"Okay" your voice make him open his eyes, only to find you already leaving him alone. Chan needs some seconds to understand and recover, letting out a snort, but laughing along.

...

You took a very calm and relaxing shower, took your very precious time to get ready, and choosing a very sexy clothe you had. Specially black, Chan's favorite color.

"Can I go now?" You open the room's door and asks loud so your boyfriend can hear you. Finally you recieved a positive response and went after him. "What you have for me?" You ask when you see him on his back.

Christopher turn around and stop. You saw his mouth form a perfect 'o', and him starting to mumbling trying to say something. And Bang Chan, feel the whole world stop once his eyes met your figure, sou gorgeous in front of him... He knew he had to say something, that's why he tried, but his brain couldn't work properly.

"Uh... Love, are you by any chance... Hum hungry?" The boy asks, still looking up and down. You smile, deciding to tease him just a little bit more, then pretending to think a little longer.

"Huuummm... I don't know, why?" Chris then slowly gets closer to you, staring at your eyes, making easy for you to realize how dark they were. And tiu can't help but already feel affected by him.

"Because my love..." He starts to speak, and everytime he gets closer, you take a step back, soon reaching the wall "I was going to give you a really nice and romantic dinner, but seeing you like this..." Chan smirks, and take his hands to your face. He holds by you chin, making you already loose your senses, and look at hia face, heart pounding in your chest "I can only think about taking this clothes out of you, and fuck the shit out of you." The way the man was holding you, and staring at you, and your knees get week, but Chan it's pretty fast, holding you, and smirking even more "you're going to scream my name so people on the other side of the town will hear you... Is that good for you my love?" He asks, and you obviously confirm nodding "words love"

"Yes chanie" it's all you can say, before his lips are on yours.

Christopher glue your body to his, pulling you closer, and only stabilizing you with his knees between your legs. As soon as his tongue get inside of your mouth, you let him dominate the kiss, and yourself. Bang Chan take his hands out of your face, to your hip, firmly pressing you against his thighs.

You are completely taken by him, letting your hand walk through him, but ending on his nape, griping slightly hard at his hair once he makes your hips move on top of him. You gasp at his lips, and Chan smiled. The boy have the audacity to pull apart, and stare at you, smiling like a devil.

"Let me look at you" he cooed, holding your face once again, and moving your hips against his muscle. You feel the electricity run your whole body, once the angle it was making his thigh reach your clit. "Fuck I missed that pretty face of yours"

Chan let a soft kiss on your mouth, before trailing kisses to your neck, and picking you up. He laid you down at the soft mat, hovering on top of you.

You could feel his lips everywhere. And then his tongue, and some bitting, and definitely a lot of marking...

"I'm going to fuck you" bang Chan begins to undress you, throwing them somewhere "no breaks. No pause" his voice was low, and made your whole body shake "I'm going to fuck you"

You had no idea that you were already naked in front of him, all you knew it was that Chan was leaving sweet kisses at your belly, then at your thighs...and he was painfully slow at it.

"Chan" you called for him, unsure of what to say. The boy looked at you smirking like the devil he is, but diving his face inside of you, making you call for him, but in a more urgent way "chan!"

When you heard people saying that rappers where good at giving oral, you didn't minded much about it, but you couldn't denied now that they were correct. Very correct.

"Fuck" he said hoarse voice slightly muffed by your body "you don't have any idea how much I missed your taste, love" it was all you heard before Chan dives in you, for real this time.

Christopher flicked his tongue on your clit, making you shiver and instinctively grab his hair, trying to gain some control over the man (but you knew better than that). You catch his dark eyes staring at you, when you feel him giving your pussy a long stripe, and you swear you can feel your soul leaving your body at the sight.

"Can you keep looking at me, beautiful?" Chan suddenly asks very nicely, and you on your week state, confirm with a nod. Chan maintain eye contact with you, and you almost can't notice his hands grabbing your thighs in a much stronger grip, only so he can comeback to his work on you.

Chan a man on a mission, moaning on you while his tongue work inside of you, taking away all the air in your lungs, making you squirm and weakly moan his names.

It felt so good. It always felt good, but your boyfriend made a promise to himself that today it was all about you. So he was planning on devour your body in many ways.

That's why when your body started to giving signs that you were about to cum, nada you started to say it yourself, all he did was raise his eyebrow indicating that he was okay with it, but never stopping his movements.

"Chan..." You called kinda as a warning, that the knot in your stomach it was about to release, but he holds you even closer and keep on eating you out. "God, Chan!" You called more desperate, your grip getting more strong on his hair, and he moan, diving impossibly more inside of you "Chan!" You definitely screamed, feeling your orgasm taking over all of your body.

With eyes closed all you wanted it was to let the feeling go, but Chan took a little more of his time with you, keeping his tongue working while holding your body trambelling on the floor.

"I love you" Christopher's voice slightly brought you back to reality. Your breathing it was uneven, so he made sure he's touch on you it was lightly and soft.

He kissed your legs, making his way to your torso, and face. And he's eyes met yours, and he chuckled while watching you coming back to reality. He was very soft, caressing your cheek, looking ver foundy at your face. Chan also gave you pecks, and kisses to your lips and face, making you giggle.

"welcome back, my love" Chan jokes, grabbing your hand and kissing your fingers. You weekly answers with a "hi" and the brightest smile for the night. "Are you okay?" He asks, softly touching every peace of your body he could reach "good, because I'm not done with you love"

And his lips were back to your body. Focusing on your breasts, one at time with his lips, leaking, kissing and bitting, you could feel the bruisings forming where he bit. And then he touched them. For only he starts to intercalate tongue and hands. He knew you and your body, and as he was right, you were ready for him once again.

"Can I?" You weekly asks for him, indicating his clothes. Chan brightly smiles and sits up with you, so you can undress him.

His jacket go out really fast, but his shirt goes out slowly, since you wanted to feel him too, unbuttoning you kiss his torso just like he did with yours, but being a little more carefull not to mark him.

"Love do you want to mark me up?" He asked smiling when you look at him with puppy eyes "can I?" After his approval your lips were everywhere on his skin, marking whenever you reached.

"Fuck love" he pantted at your willing "I'm sorry but I need to fuck you. Now" Chan growled laying you once again.

You felt his tip at your entrance, but before he got inside of you, he hover his body on top of yours, and kiss you. You feel all the love he feels for you, and then you feel all the cock he gives to you.

Chan filled you up. To the very brin.

"Chan please move" you request, lips still touching. He smiles and starts to move, slightly pulling back only to fastly thrust again inside of you.

Bang Chan started to pound inside of you like he could die if he didn't. Or like you were a goddess giving him the forbidden fruit.

All you could do it was moan, and grab his body against yours, nails digging into his back. You could do this all day everyday.

"Chan please don't stop" you begged once again, and he loved to listen to your voice so desperate for him. And fuck he wished he could record it.

"I can feel every peace of you, my love" he said in your ears, not needing much to feel your orgasm without any warning.

Your juices, moans, low grunts, your bodies... It was a very intense and delicious symphony for Chris ears. And for that he was losing himself inside of you.

Once he felt he couldn't hold any longer, Chan pulled off and realised his loads on your belly and breasts. Collapsing he fell besides you, but holding eye contact.

...

After that intense sex section you had at the leaving room, Chan helped you to clean it up, and prepare a relaxing bath witch he gladly joins you.

"Can I ask you something?" You now hoarse voice weakly speaks at the econof the bathroom. Your answer it was a hum and your boyfriend smuggling closer to you, head on your neck "why you suddenly decided to take this weekend off?"

"Humm..." the brunet hummed before answering, fingers playing with yours "I know that we don't get to have too much of a time for us, and I saw something that kinda scared me, so I decided that I was going to take care of us better. Starting today."

He's words cough you out of guard, and that made you look at him in the best way you could "can I ask what scared you?"

"Remember that night we went to grab some soju before heading home?" He recalled, and you decided to make fun of him, recalling that day "you ment that one that you decided to eat ice cream while full on masks to hide yourself?"

Chan's laugh filled the bathroom and you followed him, felling his arms embrace you even more "Yes, the bees one..." but tone for serious after that "I saw a happy couple that day. They were on the other side of the street, and they seem so happyz and they kept on hugging each other and..." you found a weird way to sit at the tub, and get in front of him, so you hold his face to stare at you, what apparently brought him back "and I got scared you want something like that... Something that I can't give to you..."

"Chanie" you tried to speak, but he interrupts you "and honestly I thought the best it was to..."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" You almost shout at his face. Chan it was indeed vulnerable, and you respected him for that, knowing how hard it is for him, even to this day to be more open with you, and so you also knew better than to keep repeating cliches, "Chanie, can you promise me one thing?" His eyes were curious over you "whenever you feel insecure over us, for anything, tell me. So we can workout okay?"

"That it's very brilliant my love" Chan smiles, kissing you "are you going to do the same?" The both of you came back to your position

"Sure, like you know" you start feeling him leaving random kisses on you "sometimes I think you're going to leave me for one of your exes, or someone that knows your lifestyle better"

Chan's fingers grasped your chin, making you look at him "well, they try to get into me, but it's you the one I'm planing to marry, my love".

[sugalaritae]

starstruck pt 8

Summary: Love is uncertain.

pairing: Kim Taehyung x plus-sized f. reader, Min Yoongi x plus-sized f. reader

genre(s): angst and getting shit together

au: non!idol, university!au, f2l, strangers to lovers

rating: 18+

word count: 7.2k

warnings: anxiety, yoongi goes to therapy (finally), unrequited love, fear of love, insecurities, kissing, almost sex (sorry), POV switches, everyone is starting to be a little more honest with themselves and each other.

author's notes: OMG it has been so long!! I am so sorry that it took me so long to write this. I'm so happy it's been finished though and that means that we only have one more chapter to go. I am also tossing around the idea of an epilogue, so maybe two chapters. I can't really believe that it's been over a year since I got this idea and decided to post it, the first time posting any BTS fanfic and now look at where we are! Thank you to every person who has stuck around. You mean a lot to me! Anyway, I hope you're all doing well and that this winter is being kind to you. I hope you enjoy this!! Thank you to @augustbutwinter for being an incredible beta!!

tag list: @miscelunaaa @herecomesjoon @minyoongiboongi @minttangerines​

© sugalaritae, 2022. you do not have any permission to repost or translate my work even if you give credit. all of this is mine.

YOONGI

“How long has it been?” 

He thinks for a moment as if he doesn’t know the exact date or how easy it would be to calculate it down to the hours or maybe even minutes since he last saw or heard from you. 

“Three months,” he answers and watches as his therapist, an older woman with graying hair framing her face, nods. 

“Do you think you want to reach out to her?” she asks.

This makes him actually think. This he doesn’t have memorized because he isn’t sure. He’s been thinking about whether or not he should message you because, while it has been months since he spoke to you, he isn’t sure you want to see or hear from him. 

The last time he saw you was in the campus bookstore but you didn’t notice him. It had sent a surge of pain through his chest as he remembered every time you used to turn his direction even when you didn’t know that he was anywhere near you. He could remember the bright smile that would slip over your beautiful face or how sometimes you would wrinkle your nose and joke that you could smell him. The perpetually sad part of his brain that overthinks and questions every little thing, whether it’s in his life or in others, wonders if you could sense that he was near and chose not to turn to look at him. The slightly less sad part doesn’t want to know at all. 

He shrugs and looks at his hands as his thumb rubs at a spot on the side of his index finger. A habit he picked up a long time ago. One that his mother used to get after him about. He thinks it might have started out of his OCD, a way of comforting him and putting him back in his body when he felt so out of control and his brain was firing nonstop. 

“I don’t know if she’ll want to hear from me,” he says softly and shrugs again. “I think I’ve placed the ball on her side of the court and I’m just waiting to see if she does anything with it,” he explains as he looks up. 

“Do you think she might be waiting to hear from you?” 

This was what he liked about his therapist. From the first meeting, it seemed to him that she might be inside his head. Or maybe it was that his problems, his thoughts weren’t that unique and she had seen them over and over again in her twenty-five years of being a therapist. Another thing he liked about her–she’s got plenty of experience of talking to sad people under her belt. It feels very much like talking to an older family member, except one that doesn’t have biases. She’s neutral and asks the important questions, both ones that he’s been asking himself already and ones that his brain couldn’t even imagine asking. 

“I sometimes wonder that,” he begins, rubbing his neck. “Then the little voice tells me that she’s probably realized that she’s better off without me. That she has someone now that takes care of her and —” 

“You’re projecting. You don’t know what —” she looks down at her notes, “Taehyung is like when he’s with her.” 

He smiles at this and shakes his head. “I think he’s good for her. I’ve seen them on campus. He waits for her outside of class with coffee.” 

“And that means that he’s better than you?” 

He pauses, then slowly shakes his head. 

“You don’t know what’s going on in her head. You’ve stated before that she’s capable of putting on a strong exterior and that it was only in private that she let people see what was really going on.” 

He nods. 

“So why do you think that she’s changed that much in the last three months? Allowing people to see who you are, to let the public see that kind of vulnerability is a skill that no one in this world has. Except maybe the Dalai Lama but I think even he hides a lot.” 

Another thing he likes about her, she doesn’t like bullshit. From anyone. 

“By saying you think she has someone who takes care of her now erases all the ways that you took care of her before and all the ways that she took care of you. By saying that you’re beating yourself up over something that is untrue.” 

She is looking straight at him and he feels like his chest is about to burst open. There is a tightness in his throat and he feels the familiar sting of tears build. 

“She relaxed when she was around you. That means that she felt comfortable enough with you to allow herself to let those walls down. That means you took care of her and by the sounds of it, when she let her walls down you did too.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s true. I think she was right, I had walls up around her and that’s why I always drank. Especially when I was with her.” 

He watches as the older woman smiles.

“Do you think that maybe the part of you that thinks this new man is taking better care of her could have been scared by the way you were vulnerable around her? That you felt so uncomfortable you wanted to drink, so you could pretend like you weren’t being vulnerable and it was the alcohol allowing you to be that comfortable with another human being?” 

He swallows past the lump, slowly. His throat has gotten tighter. He doesn’t know why that is where all his tension resides. He’s a poet. He reads his vulnerability in words and it never gets like this when he’s up on stage. 

There is a part of him that wants to scream and run, but that part has gotten quieter in the last few months and the part that was always there craving the closeness of others is louder. This is the part that lets him know it’s okay to cry and he closes his eyes, wiping at the tears that fall down his face. He bows his head to try and hide the tears even though she’s seen him cry so many times before. 

“Be kinder to yourself, Yoongi. You are worthy of someone having their walls down around you. You’re worth letting your own walls down and letting people in. And your emotions are wonderful, they deserve to be heard. If you’re comfortable with it, I think maybe now might be the time to contact her and see if she’s willing to talk.” 

He wipes at his cheeks, a little rougher this time, and nods. 

“Remember the exercise I gave you last time? Have you started it?” 

He looks up and smiles through the tears that are slowly starting to fade. The image of the small, washed out, old glass jar sitting on his bedside table with the notepad and pen right beside it. 

“I’ve failed a few days but there were a few times when I rushed to the notepad and wrote something down as soon as it happened, like I needed to capture it on paper and save it for another time.”  

She nods, a pleased smile slowly spreads across her face and Yoongi feels a small rush of pride through his chest. He’s done well. Last session she told him to start writing down the things that make him feel happy, proud, or content. He’s not always great at writing them down but he does look forward to rereading them in a year’s time. He had originally started with full explanations of events but they’ve slowly started to become one single line. 

Cooked Jin dinner. 

Didn’t leave the house when I wanted a drink.

Witnessed a person’s face light up with happiness when they saw their child. Wouldn’t have noticed that if I was still drinking. 

“You’re doing a good job. I know that it might not feel like it some days, but you are,” she says softly as she closes her notebook. “Think about contacting her. It might be what you both need.” 

He steps out into the cool breeze. He prefers being the last client of the day. So he can go out and be in the quiet of the night. He doesn’t know why he likes it but he does. Perhaps it reminds him a bit of his breakdown, the way that the city felt like a welcoming stranger. Unknown and lit up with emotions. He thinks maybe he’s searching for that feeling again, that he wants that feeling of alertness that he had. The way the world seemed to shine in a new way while also feeling like it was the darkest place he had ever been. An intense and beautiful combination of the light of the world and the darkness of his mind. 

He hasn’t experienced that yet though. He has yet to experience that feeling again and he supposes that it’s a good thing. Maybe it’s not a good idea to go and look for that. He doesn’t want the low that came with it. He just wants the feeling of being alive again because he had never experienced that before. 

Tonight he feels the burn in his pocket. The phone is right there and he could send a text. Just a quick hello to tell you that he’s thinking of you. That he misses you. Because that is the thing that he is missing the most: you. You are everything to him and he wants you to know that even if you don’t feel the same way as he does. Then he will bury all his feelings, he will be okay; he just needs you in his life. 

TAEHYUNG

He can tell something is wrong. 

There’s been something on your mind for the last few weeks and he knows it’s got to do with Yoongi. It can’t be easy not talking to your best friend. The person that you relied on so heavily. He couldn’t imagine not talking to Jungkook. He talks to him every single day, and he knows, eventually, when they stop living together that won’t change. He’s very much Taehyung’s person. 

Except love complicates everything.  In all the world’s uncertainty, this is the thing that he is the most certain of. 

A year into his friendship with Jungkook, he had woken up one day to the realization that he was in love with his best friend. A sickening kind of love that lasted for two miserable, and yet, blissful months. 

He doesn’t like to think about it often, has never admitted it out loud to anyone. It’s such a cliche–the queer friend falling in love with his straight best friend. He’s embarrassed to admit it, even though he sometimes thinks back on those months with fondness. That feeling of joy every time he saw Jungkook. Except that here was nothing to say. Nothing could come out of it. Jungkook wouldn’t reciprocate the feelings. He didn’t want to be let down verbally, so he kept it all in and eventually those romantic feelings switched back to platonic. The line was so easy to cross. 

Which is why your relationship with Yoongi scares him so much. 

He tries not to think of what you miss about Yoongi. Whether you miss him platonically or romantically. Doesn’t want to think about the possibility of unresolved feelings being there, hiding under your surface waiting for an opportunity to reveal themselves and crush his heart while making yours lighter.

There is a pang in his chest at that thought. That you might love someone that isn’t him.  

He still hasn’t told you that he loves you. Even though it’s been several months. He, again, doesn’t want that disappointment. That embarrassment. Though he has seen moments where he thinks perhaps you feel the same way about him. The way that you look at him when he’s made a joke. You look at him like he’s the most stupid and most funny person alive. It makes his heart soar and he wants nothing more than to hear the words from you so he can finally release his own.

He just knows that there might be something missing there that is stopping you. Because you can’t really love someone back when there is something going on with your own heart; and there is obviously something going on with your heart. You’re battling something. Whether it’s figuring out what your feelings are toward Yoongi or just missing him, he just wants you to be okay and to figure it out. He’d love to help but he knows that you also need to do that on your own. So, he leaves it. 

He’s thought about it a lot too. How if you told him that you loved Yoongi that he would be okay. He thinks he would be okay. Because he’s okay with being another person you love, if it means that you love him too. 

“You think that you’d be able to be okay with her loving someone else at the same time as you?” Jungkook asks as Taehyung takes a sip of the water bottle he’s just opened. 

“I think so, yeah.” 

“Even if that person is someone who humiliated you?” 

He thinks about this for a moment but he already knows the answer, it sits at the back of his brain and has been for a while now. He trusts that you know him. There is a part of him that thinks perhaps this is a mistake on his part, that Yoongi could just be a total asshole and you are blind to it. 

He shrugs, because it’s all moot until you actually tell him. Until he confronts you about it because the thought you would choose someone over him has been driving the anxiety car in his brain. He’s starting to feel like the residual smoke is slipping down his spine and perforating his lungs, making him feel like he’s choking from the inside out. 

“Doesn’t matter right now,” he says with another shrug. “I’m thinking too far into the future again. She might not love him at all.” 

He doesn’t want to look at Jungkook who is probably giving him a look that says if you say so but he does anyway and for a moment he thinks his best friend is going to say those words that are floating around his head out loud, but instead Jungkook nods. 

“It’s going to be okay, hyung,” he says instead and Tae nods because no matter what happens he has Jungkook and that matters more than any relationship. 

He wants to believe that. 

YOU 

It’s starting to become a burden. 

Yoongi’s name is still etched onto the list of message conversations. You’ve hidden his photos like they’re some kind of secret. You don’t want that. You want him. You’re not sure in what way just yet, but your heart aches every morning when you realize that the day has slipped into the afternoon and time has ticked by without a good morning text from him which was your custom. 

Sometimes you used to text him first and he would complain that you had beat him to it; but not anymore. 

The heartache used to be constant, from the moment you woke up and you remembered that you don’t talk to him; but your brain and your body have gotten used to it. 

Now the heartache surprises you at random times. 

It’s not just the texts, it’s seeing things that remind you of him or things that you know he would enjoy. You had made it to the counter at the university bookstore to buy him a book that you thought he might enjoy when you realized that you don’t know how you would get it to him. You bought it anyway, not wanting to leave the queue; but now the book just sits on your coffee table like a reminder of what you need to do and are putting off. 

Just like how you’re putting off talking to Taehyung about it. 

You know that he’s curious even though he won’t ask. He’s giving you room to do whatever it is that you need to do and you’re not sure what that is. 

That’s the frustrating part. 

So the days slip by. You ignoring the book that still sits on your coffee table. You rest cups on it, keys, plates, and then your shirt followed quickly by your bra. You ignore the awful nagging bubbling feeling you get when there is a quiet moment between you and Taehyung and you remember there is an entire conversation that you could start that would fill the silence. 

Days slip by into evenings. Some nights you stay at Taehyung’s house and wake up to watch him and Jungkook joke while they cook breakfast. Some nights he takes you home and you fuck until every muscle in your body is weak and tired. 

Tonight is one of those nights. 

Taehyung kisses your neck and you moan out with pleasure because he has started to memorize the places on your body that he knows you like to be kissed. His hands are slipping down your sides, a thumb brushing against your nipple as he does so. He likes these little passing touches and so do you. 

He leads you, backward, onto your bed, undressing you as you go. You open your eyes just in time to watch first, your bra and then shirt slip off the book and onto the floor. It catches you by surprise how quickly you fall back into your head like standing at the pool’s edge and being pushed backward into it. Memories of Yoongi splash around you, and you suddenly remember laying on your floor because you’ve both had too much to drink and you can’t make it to your bed. The way his laughter used to fill this small apartment. You close your eyes to try and get the memory out but all you can see is his smile, that wide one he gets when he’s absolutely and purely happy, the one that makes his eyes shine bright with stars.  

“Hey,” Taehyung’s voice whispered and you open your eyes to find him no longer buried in your neck but looking right at you, his hands on either side of your shoulders. 

“Where did you go?” he asks. 

You don’t know why but you suddenly want to cry. He’s so caring. Worry paints his brow where sweat would have gathered if only you hadn’t fallen into your mind. 

You could lie to him and tell him that you’re still here but you can’t. You’ve had enough of not talking about this and you separate yourself from him and sit up on the bed, grabbing your night shirt that is still laying on top of the duvet where you left it that morning.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks as he leans back against his heels, and watches you slip the thin shirt over your head.

“No!” you say a little too loudly, a little too abruptly because it catches you off guard and you reach out to him and take his hand in yours and pull him down beside you. 

You stare at the duvet and he stares at you for a moment until he pulls his gaze away and lets it fall to the wooden board that you are concentrating on. 

There is an unbearable silence between the two of you as you try to quell the feeling of tears. You don’t want to cry and make this whole thing worse. 

“If you don’t want to continue this, that’s okay. I’d like to be your friend though, after I get over you that is,” he says softly with a little sad laugh and a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes, two things that break your heart. 

“What?” you ask, the sudden fear of losing him surging through your body. “No.” 

You stare at him and he gives you the softest smile that somehow pushes the tears closer to the edge. 

“I understand if you’re not ready to be in a relationship. Everything that’s been going on with Yoongi, if there are feelings there, and you need to figure that out then I’ll take a step back. I know what it’s like to be in love with a friend and not know what to do with them, it takes time but it will be okay.” 

Your gaze slips to his hands. He’s picking at his left thumb nail and you are reminded of Yoongi and his tick. The way that he slips the pad of his thumb tenderly over his index finger. Always the same spot. This tick of Taehyung’s is different though. It’s a little more nervous, like a distraction to take him out of his body instead of into it. 

It makes you so angry how kind he is. You’re not used to this kindness and part of you thinks that you’re undeserving of it. It took you so long to trust the kindness that Yoongi gave you. He had helped break down that wall. Chipped away at the brick until there was a window where he could slip his hand through and hold yours. Like a little glory hole for love you can hear him say in your head. He had chipped away at it so masterfully and patiently that you had allowed kindness from Jimin. Only for him to ruin everything and tear it all out from under you. 

He had stepped through with a drink in his hand and begged you for something that you’re not sure he was ready for.. It had been Taehyung’s kindness that had shone a light on the whole situation and made you realize the red flag that Yoongi kept in his back pocket. 

“I don’t know what I want with Yoongi,” you find yourself saying and then you move closer to Taehyung and rest your head on his shoulder. “But I know that I don’t want you to leave,” you say and you can feel him relax at the weight of your head on him or maybe it’s the weight of the whole situation that has suddenly lifted from his shoulders just a little. 

“What does that mean for us?” he asks and you don’t fault him for this question. You are sure that you would be asking the same question if the roles were reversed. 

“I think I need to be honest with you about the whole situation,” you answer and he nods. “I can make us some tea,” you say and leave his shoulder to look at him.

He nods. “That would be good actually because I need a moment to bring myself down,” he says as he looks down at the slight bulge in his joggers, a bulge that has already gone down since you felt it against your palm in the hallway on your way to your apartment.

The two of you share a little laugh and smile before you lean in and kiss him gently. He softens into the kiss and slips a hand onto your arm. 

“This isn’t helping,” he mumbles against your lips as the two of you let it linger. 

You bite your bottom lip and separate. “Sorry.” 

He shakes his head and chuckles. 

You push yourself up off the bed and begin to head to the kitchen, stopping on your way to pick up your shirt and bra. You toss both into the hamper near the wall and miss, but you don’t go and pick them up, that’s a job for tomorrow. Instead, you slip into the kitchen and fill the kettle before setting it on its dock and flicking the switch. 

You lean against the counter in time to see Taehyung fall against your bed with his arms and hands above his head. You’re not sure what he’s thinking about but you hope that your words and the kiss have quieted the worries in his head. That they have cleared something up, even if it’s just a little something. You don’t want him to think that you’re making tea to sit down and have a conversation with him only to break up with him. 

You fill the teapot with hot water and scoop out a small amount of tea leaves into the water, stirring it, and setting the lid carefully onto the ceramic pot. You carry everything carefully over to the coffee table and set them down, setting the pot down on the book. 

You sit down on the small loveseat and lean down on your knees for a moment. Now that you’re close to him again the guilt of ruining a perfect moment slips into your system and starts to bite at you like a snake leaving bits of poison in your veins. 

“Hey,” Taehyung whispers as he moves from the bed and slips next to you and leans into the corner of the loveseat and pulls you to him, letting your back rest against his chest. 

You can feel the rise and fall of each of his breaths and you look down at yourself. You slip yourself onto the loveseat more and curl into him. His hand brushes against the back of your head until it’s fallen against your spine and he slips his fingers up and down your back in a pattern that should tickle, but you find comforting. 

“He hurt me,” you say and he stills for a moment as if to give himself another moment to prepare for whatever truths you’re about to tell him. 

“How?” 

He had comforted you that night when Yoongi had confessed his love. He had given you his shoulder to cry on and he had kissed your forehead even though you barely knew each other. You hadn’t told him what had happened, just that you needed someone and he had let you in without any questions asked. There is a small little voice in the back of your head that says that this was a red flag, to let you in so easily, but you’re not sure if it’s red or just a little bit pink and the lighting is dark. 

“He’s an alcoholic,” you say and it feels like you shouldn’t say that out loud. It’s not your secret to say. 

“Did he hit you?” 

You shake your head against his chest. “Oh no. No.” 

Now it feels stupid to say the thing that you need to say but you do anyway. 

“He told me he loves me,” you pause, the words feel heavy on your tongue but right and you’re not sure you like that feeling. “He’s in love with me.” You stare at your fingers and pick at the skin around your nail. “When you and I were texting about our date, I was with him, and he told me that he was jealous and then he kissed me that night but nothing else happened, he stopped it.” 

You worry that you’re hurting Taehyung’s feelings but his hand hasn’t stopped moving against your back and so you continue. 

“So when he told me that he loved me the night after I left your place, I realized that he was only ever vulnerable with me when he was stoned or drunk. That he couldn’t let me in without the help of a substance and I had just left you. You were kind to me and you had let me in after what I think was the perfect date. Your kindness made me realize that he wasn’t ready to give any of that that- kindness or love.” 

You move your head to look at him and he’s staring at the furthest wall. His hand is still moving but he looks lost in thought. 

TAEHYUNG 

He wants to run away. He can’t stop the sinking feeling in his chest. He’s sure his heart is slipping deeper into his body because he feels out of place. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with everything that you’ve just told him. You still haven’t told him that you don’t love Yoongi. He feels grounded though, surprisingly, and he’s sure it’s because he hasn’t stopped touching you. He wonders if you’re aware of how you ground him. He knows that it’s two conflicting feelings–the sinking heart and groundedness– but nothing in this world, at this moment, makes sense, so he doesn’t think much of it. 

"How is that supposed to make me feel?" he finds himself asking and immediately regrets it, though there is a small voice somewhere deep that tells him it's proud of him. 

“What do you mean?” your voice slips into him and that isn’t the answer he wanted to hear but he supposes he probably would have asked something similar, if not that exact question. 

“You realized that he wasn’t ready for you because of me?” he asks. He wants clarification or confirmation. No, he needs it.

He wants his heart to stop beating so wildly and for his head to stop screaming that you are in love with Yoongi. That you don’t have it in your already occupied heart to love him back. 

He’s going to be heartbroken again, and he guesses he should be used to this by now. It’s what he’s best at–falling in love with people who are incapable of loving him back. 

You shift in his lap and he lets out a groan as you push into his hip. For a moment he’s taken out of his head and put into the movement, the way his body is pushed as you move to look at him. He isn't sure he wants to look at you just yet. His heart hurts and he’s preparing for the worst because what else is there? 

Jungkook was right, as usual. He’s not ready to hear that you’re in love with Yoongi. Even if you stay with him. 

“Yeah,” you say and he looks down at your lips before he feels your hand against his cheek. Your thumb presses lightly against his chin in an effort to lift his gaze. 

“No one had ever treated me like you did that night. I had never had a date like that where I didn’t want to leave and where I was respected,” you say and he can’t help how his heart reacts to that. You’re worth so much more than what he gave you on that date. You’re worth better food and better conversation. 

He stays silent though because he doesn’t want to interrupt you. There’s a light somewhere deep in his chest that glows like some sort of mythical creature in a dark forest, guiding him out of it and toward the sun. 

You are his sun. 

“You treated me like I was worth something. Worth being paid attention to and like I was the most beautiful woman that you had ever seen.” 

The part of him that wants to grip onto the thought of being unlovable hates how the corner of his mouth twitches upward at that. The way his eyes get just a little bit wider and how his heart beats wilder in his chest. 

He hates Yoongi all over again. Hates him for being so stupid and not treating you the way that you should have been treated all those years when he had such a wonderful person as a friend. How he had just let that all go is beyond him and he thinks about how he wants to show you respect every single day for as long as you will let him. 

A different part of him, the part that is filled with the boys laughter from school, chimes in and tells him he’s so fucking weak for being this much of a romantic. 

He finally registers your face though, and the look on it ignites the fear all over again. You don’t have to say it for him to know. You do love Yoongi. You don’t need to say anything for Taehyung to know; but to his dismay you do. 

“I wanted a love that was better than what he offered. I deserve a love that is better than all that.” 

His heart breaks a little and he isn’t sure if it’s an empathetic break or his own. He kisses you though. Presses a kiss against the side of your mouth and lingers there just for a moment before he slips his hand against the back of your neck and pulls you into him gently. He releases you after a moment and nods. He looks at you, his gaze falling over your beautiful features. You are stunning. 

He still can’t say it though. 

The boy’s laughter builds again. 

He’s a fucking coward for not being able to say it to you then and there. Because you have a love that is better than all that. He is in love with you so deeply that he thinks it hurts just a little. 

“I’m sorry he hurt you,” he says softly as he realizes that he made your whole thing about him and he doesn’t want to do that. He’s trying to be better at that. 

You curl into him and his heart beats so wildly in his chest that he thinks perhaps it will give everything away. The adrenaline spiking so fast through his veins makes him want to say it out loud. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep it in but he also knows that you’re not ready to hear him say it. You’re not ready for his love just yet, even though you say that you’re deserving of it, he doesn’t know if you’ll run after he tells you and he doesn’t want to experience that again. He can handle you loving someone else while he’s in love with you but he doesn’t want to watch you leave because he loves you. 

He marvels, sometimes, at love a little when he’s alone in his room. How it makes him want to kiss you and keep this all to yourselves, and how it also makes him want to watch you be free and do whatever you want. The love he feels for you is unlike any previous love, because it mixes with the heartbreak and humiliation and tells him that he’ll be okay even if you leave him. Even if you leave him for Yoongi, he’ll be okay.

He doesn’t want to experience that though if he can help it. 

“You deserve the best kind of love,” he whispers and slips his face into the crook of your neck as his fingers slip up your arm.

“I’d like a chance to fall in love with you,” you say and his heart leaps. 

“What about Yoongi?” 

There is a silence that feels like it draws a curtain over the whole apartment, locking the two of you into a prison, but he remains perfectly still until you answer. 

YOU 

You’re not sure how to say this without coming out as the villain. How do you tell someone you care so deeply about that you were once in love with Yoongi? That if you had a second chance that you would fall in love with him and you’re not sure how long it would last but that it might last forever. 

“I think he’s in the past,” you say, instead because it’s the truth. 

“You’ll let me know if that changes?”

You love him for that question and you nod. 

Sometimes you think that Taehyung can read you in the same way that Yoongi was able to. He will do or say something that catches you so off guard but is exactly what you were thinking about and it makes you feel seen, as if you’re wearing a coat made out of the scariest vulnerability. 

“What if we go away?” 

You turn a little to face him.

“Where?” 

He pushes himself up straighter and you watch as his gaze falls to your chest. The bra lays on the floor and you smile just a little as he shakes his head to try and get himself out of the trance of staring at your breasts through the thin cotton fabric. 

“You mentioned your parents have a cabin, right? We could go there for a week or so. And you have that essay due. You could work on it up there. I’ll cook for you and we can just … take it easy,” he says softly as his fingers slip against your forearm and then his gaze falls to your hand as he slips his long fingers between yours. “Let it just be a week for us. We can talk about anything you want to talk about or we don’t have to talk at all. Just be together.” 

You follow his gaze to your fingers and you watch as his fingers slip over yours. He has nicer hands than yours. You’ve always been a little self conscious about them, women who love women are supposed to have long fingers that will get the job done, but you have little fingers like your ex. Jimin had liked that you had short fingers like him but you like Taehyung’s fingers better. They are excellent and mesmerize you in so many ways. 

“I would like that.” 

YOONGI 

He’s sitting on his sofa, the TV is on but he’s not really paying attention to it. Some cooking show is on. Or maybe it’s a travel show. A can of coke is in his hands and he stares at the TV but not at it. His mind is a million miles from where he is sitting. 

It’s thinking about what he’s going to text you. 

It’s been three days since he walked out of his therapist’s office and decided that maybe now is the time to text you and start up the conversation. He’s written several ways to start it in the notes app on his phone. 

Hey, I miss you. Do you miss me?

Hi. I know that you might not want to hear from me but I’ve changed and I was wondering if maybe you would want to get together for a coffee.

I fucked up. I’m sorry that I fucked up so horribly. You were right. You deserve everything nice and not as fucked up as I am.

Hey, I was wondering if we could get together sometime.

He’s also written entire paragraphs of text telling you.

Hey. I am sorry. I might sound completely self indulgent in this, and for that I apologize, I think this needs to be said though and that’s why I’m writing this down now before texting you. I’m sorry that I pushed my feelings onto you at a grossly inappropriate time. It was selfish of me. The truth is though that you were right. I was only able to tell you everything I was feeling if I was inebriated. I had a problem. I think I will have a problem for the rest of my life. I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever drink again, or smoke weed again. It lets me be a fake kind of vulnerable. A vulnerability that is just all pretend and make believe. A way to fool myself that I am letting people in when I’m only just locking them out. I never wanted to do that with you. I wanted to let you in. I think I did, at times. Telling you things that I haven’t even told Jin about my family; but I’ve never let you in fully. For that, I apologize. You were right about that. You deserve someone who lets you in all the way. Who wants to let you in and is capable of doing so. Another truth is that I miss you. I miss you so much it feels like there is part of me that is missing. I don’t know if you and I will ever have a friendship that is the same and I have to be okay with that because it was my fault. 

He doesn’t know if he will ever send them though. As he stares at the screen he thinks about another possibility. Just a simple “hey” and leave it at that. See where it goes, if it goes anywhere. 

The thing that scares him the most,though is if it doesn’t go anywhere. And he knows that he can’t text you until he’s absolutely okay with that. 

The front door and Jin steps out of his sliders before he walks into the kitchen and Yoongi finally breaks his stare and joins him. “If I, hypothetically, saw her, would you want to know?” Jin asks as he reaches into the bag and takes out the items that he’s bought for the week. 

“Did you see her?” he asks, knowing full well that Jin has in fact seen you. 

Jin nods. “Yes. She was at that newer cafe this morning when I was there for my meeting.”

Taehyung’s cafe. Yoongi knows which one.  

“How is she?” 

Jin smiles and then shrugs. “She said she was okay. Greeted me with a hug and told me that she misses me.”

There is silence in the kitchen and a piece of Yoongi wants to scream and ask if you mentioned him, but instead he takes the second bag and begins to unpack that. 

“She said that she’s going away with her boyfriend for a week. Going to her parent’s cabin in the mountains.”

Again there is silence and Yoongi gives a little grunt of acknowledgement. Boyfriend. It was bound to happen and he’s not sure why there is even a part of him that is surprised. 

“To be honest, Yoongi, she seemed sad. Like you, a little. You two always think you’re so good at hiding your emotions but it’s right there in your eyes giving every fucking thing away.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stop what he’s doing. Jin is right. Though, he’s always right and it’s incredibly annoying. “Yoongi,” Jin says and looks at him. “Text her.” 

Yoongi (21:45): Hey.  I know it’s been a long time. 

You (22:03): Hi. Yeah, it has been. 

Yoongi (22:05): I’m sorry about that. I wanted to give you space. 

You (22:05): I appreciate that. 

Yoongi (22:06): Could we get together sometime for a coffee? There are some things that I want to tell you and I  think it would be best if we did it in person and not over text. 

You (22:08): I’m at my parent’s cabin for the next week, can it wait until I get back? 

Yoongi (22:08): Yes. 

You (22:35): If it’s important then I think it would be okay if you came up for lunch. I kind of want to spend this week relaxing and to be honest, I don’t know if I’ll be able to relax knowing that you want to tell me things. 

Yoongi (22:40): You’d be okay with that? 

You (22:41): Yes. 

Yoongi (22:41): Tell me when and I’ll drive there. 

You (22:57): What about the day after tomorrow? It will give you a day to write everything down that you want to say to me 😛

Yoongi (22:58): You know me too well. What time? 

You (22:58): 1300? 

Yoongi (22:59): Anything you want me to bring? 

You (22:59): Just yourself. 

Yoongi (23:00): I’ll be there. Just me. Have a good night. You (23:04): You too. 

[indecentpause]

Find the Word

tagged by @oh-no-another-idea to find yellow, butter, soft, milk, and cream! thank!

cw: implied domestic abuse

from The Most Beautiful Puzzle:

yellow:

“Do you need help cleaning up?” you ask. [Josselin] peers around your shoulder at the little kitchenette. You turn around. It looks like Familiar only pulled that one paper towel out. “I’m fine,” he says. He leads you to the door, watching your bad ankle. “Who did that to you?” he suddenly asks. Your stomach drops to your feet, but hopefully you school your expression quick enough he doesn’t notice. “Nobody,” you say, as you reach out for the doorknob. “The same nobody who put that bruise on your wrist?” he pushes. You swallow and glance down at the healing yellow bruise on your pulse point. “Nobody,” you repeat, a little firmer. Josselin opens his mouth to push even further, but you interrupt. “Thanks for having me over so quickly,” you say. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow around 10:00 to let you know if I need help moving stuff.” “I--” he begins again. You gently shut the door behind you and struggle your way back down the stairs. To Josselin’s credit, he doesn’t follow you.

butter:

“Are you going in today?” Josselin finally asks. The Inspector lets out a long, heavy breath. The whole weight of his body is in his exhale. You slide your plate, still with one piece of buttered bread, in front of him. When he looks up at you, it’s like he feels so heavy he has to fight to move. You know that feeling far too well to be okay with seeing someone else you care about feeling that way. “My best friend’s parents always say the best thing you can do when you’re struggling is have a small meal,” you offer meekly. “The world sucks, but it’s a little less sucky on a full stomach.” The coffee pot burbles to life behind you as the water reaches the appropriate heat. After another long, slow, measured sigh, the Inspector looks up at you with a soft smile. “Thank you,” he says.

soft:

Josselin moves his hand from Familiar’s scruff to your knee. “I’m sorry,” he says gently. “I had a lot of bad run-ins with cops too, after my mom died. Not trouble with the law or anything, but just. Normal autistic kid in the foster system problems. Dona was the only one who ever treated me like I wasn’t just a troublemaker. He recognized I was just a fucked up kid who was trying my best in a system designed to fail.” You finally meet his eyes and say, “Thank you.” He smiles softly.

milk:

You apply at every private ambulance company but your own, for call taker, for porter, for anything that doesn’t put you on the street. No more paramedicine without proper PPE. Never again. On day four of your self-imposed quarantine, Josselin knocks on your bedroom door, and calls from the other side, “Meara, I know closed doors mean ‘go away,’ but this is really important?” You stand from the stack of milk crates that currently serves as your chair and let him in. He doesn’t step past the door sill. His face is creased up with worry and his phone is in his hand. “Josselin?” You swallow hard and nervousness jabs at your stomach. “Dona served the papers. That was just him on the phone. Your ex didn’t take it well.”

cream:

“They probably put [the cigarette] out at shoulder level. That seems to be the most common. So, if they were standing here…” He takes a step back and glances between the mark and his feet again. “I’d say they’re probably 5’9”, 5’10”? Not quite six foot.” “So. Average height for a man?” you say. “Yeah,” Josselin says, a little disappointed. “Not as helpful as I’d hoped. But at least we know we’re not looking for someone super tall or short, and we have at least one name to keep looking into.” He huffs a little breath out and it jostles the hair that’s fallen into his face with his excited movements. “I guess it’s a start.” The two of you make your way to the coffee shop down the street, pulling on your masks as you go. Plain surgical blue and white. It’s cool inside, not bright but not dim, either, just the right light level to hang around and read a book. It’s separated into two spaces by the bar where they keep the cream and sugar, just a little space big enough for one person to go through at a time. It looks wide and open and a little brighter on the other side.

tagging @kaiusvnoir @drippingmoon @nonsenseramble @avidink @nintendo-and-writeblr to find the words desert, stream, tree, snow, and rain, and share the excerpts! I did tag some new people based on someone else's 'like this for tag games' post so if you don't want me to tag you again, please just ask!

[colorlesschristmastree]

I posted 1,727 times in 2022

That's 568 more posts than 2021!

97 posts created (6%)

1,630 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@kayla-2

@dreaminginvelaris

@aqueerincrisis

@highqueenmorrigan

@colorlesschristmastree

I tagged 131 of my posts in 2022

#my posts - 93 posts

#pro feyre - 82 posts

#feyre archeron - 68 posts

#feyre - 52 posts

#acomaf - 27 posts

#acotar - 25 posts

#pro feysand - 25 posts

#feysand - 23 posts

#rhysand - 21 posts

#anti nesta - 20 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#i’m not actually sure what to tag this but it’s getting anti tags cause i’d rather not tag it nesta and have her stans coming onto my blog

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

““No,” he said baldly. “Unless you do. I need you protecting me from our enemies with your water-wolves.” I snorted. He’d made me tell him that part of my tale over and over.” acomaf

I’m sorry but why isn’t this talked about more? This is literally so cute. I’m imagining them laying in bed after the attack on Velaris, and Rhys just stares at Feyre in awe as she recaps her tale.

She was outnumbered, fighting completely by herself. The civillians in the area were being attacked, but when their attackers spotted Feyre, they all focused their attentions on her. She needed allies. She runs back to the bridge and slams her foot on the ground, and all of the sudden 5 foot tall wolves of water appear from the Sidra!

Rhys is 100% blushing and curling his toes by this point in the story.. but then Feyre goes on.

The wolves drowned their enemies on dry land, all while Feyre herself winnows and continues attacking. They flee, because Feyre is strong. She is powerful. And they were not prepared for someone with powers and abilities as versatile and usable as Feyre’s. They were not prepared for someone who controls all magic and can use all things.

They retreat. But Feyre doesn’t let them, her wolves grow wings and surround the Attor-ilk, freezing them mid air and letting their frozen solid bodies shatter on the ground.

Rhysand’s High Lady left no survivors, she was water and air and power.

She finishes telling her story and Rhysand is just there, he’s out of breath from picturing her beauty and courage.

And then he asks her to tell him again.

So she does.

127 notes - Posted March 1, 2022

#4

The Main Character for a Reason. 🧎🏻‍♀️

Art Credits: @gabi.cooley.art on instagram and commissioned by: @literallyliterarydesigns

130 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

#3

Just a reminder that Nesta never apologized to Feyre face to face for what she did, and the things she thought about and contemplated internally are not a reflection of growth with her relationship with Feyre.

“Nesta isnt feyre shes not gonna use pretty words and apologize” She did with Amren. And Cassian. And Gwyn. And Emerie.

“she apologized through actions!!” I quite literally do not give a fuck that she “sacrificed” the powers she didn’t want and never bothered to learn. And FYI for those who haven’t read that scene in a while, Nesta’s bargain asked the cauldron to show HER how to save Feyre and the baby. Meaning, if Nesta had gotten off of her lazy, entitled, “woe is me” ass, and trained her powers, she could have saved them herself and still have the powers yall love to post about and hype up.

If you like her, good for you. But don’t try to get on my dick talking about how i’m misunderstanding the text, or trying to bring a traumatized woman down, or won’t let someone recover from her trauma. Cause first off, I can dislike that little shit as much as I want. Just like you can dislike Feyre.

I will never understand Nesta stans and they won’t ever understand me. But it is fine for me to not want to move on from her prior actions, there are Rhys antis who still obsess over what he did UtM and that is fine, if it left a foul taste in your mouth and you can’t look at him the same, so be it. Nesta did the same with me. I will never look at her and see what her stans do, I will always remember that Feyre had to hide money from her. I will always remember Nesta telling Feyre that someday no one will remember she existed. I will always remember that when Feyre described herself getting brutally and violently murdered, all Nesta did was make the situation about herself, and tried to shame her sister for her new life. End of story. I don’t care if Nesta becomes a saint of kindness I will still get on this app every day and reblog posts reminding y’all what a piece of shit she was for the first 25 years of her life.

161 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

#2

A Goddess of the Hunt and a Lady of the Night

art by the talented @faithfularts._ on instagram!

185 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Lovelier Than a Shining Star 🌌

ac: elthericarts

194 notes - Posted June 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[tobiokuns]

— morning after with haikyuu boys

summary: they’re next to you when you wake up, but you wonder if he’s really yours even after last night. [previous / next] tags: suggestive content, nudity, aged up characters, hurt/comfort + angst to fluff, insecurities featuring: suna rintarou, kageyama tobio, oikawa tooru image credit: @seerlight on twitter

— suna rintarou

suna looks beautiful when he’s asleep, you decide. you take in the sight of how the hair falls over his eyes, how his eyelashes fan over the tops of his cheeks, and wonder if you’ll ever see this sight again.

you’re almost sure that he had only slept with you last night because it had been convenient: at the same party, living in the same apartment building. there’s no way he would want to keep doing this, not when there were so many other people he could be with. you graze your fingertips over his cheekbones, smiling to yourself, before you get up to go brush your teeth. 

you’re making breakfast when he wakes up, padding barefoot and shirtless into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. god, he looks good, you think. you avoid eye contact, afraid that your feelings would show on your face. 

“morning, rin,” you say, trying to keep your voice level, “i’m making food, if you want some—”

and then you stop yourself. maybe he doesn’t want any, maybe he wants to leave as soon as possible. so you backtrack, “i mean—it’s okay if you don’t want any! i just... i made—”

he cuts you off by putting his hand on your hip and resting his chin on your shoulder. your breath catches when he says, “what’s wrong? last night got you flustered?” 

“no— it’s just—” you try to find the words, your face heating up, “it’s okay if you want to leave. i don’t— maybe you don’t usually have breakfast with your one night stands...”

he presses his lips to your neck. “is that what you think this is? a one time thing?”

you finally gather the courage to look at him, but he’s so close to you that you reel back. he catches you in his arms and smirks. you must look like you’re on the verge of tears, but suna just looks amused.

“come on,” he urges, digging his fingers into your back, “let’s eat breakfast.”

— oikawa tooru

“wake up, tooru,” you sing, slinging an arm over his waist and burying your face in his back.

you feel great. your body is pleasantly sore and you slept better than you ever have with oikawa next to you. you nuzzle him until he groans, twisting around to look at you. you grin at him, and he almost smiles back, but then a look crosses his face, and suddenly he’s turning back around.

“hey,” he groans, burying his face into the pillow, “c-could you get off of me?”

you recoil, your fingers slipping from his body. oh, you think. maybe it wasn’t like that then. so you laugh awkwardly, turning away from him with a small sure. there’s nothing to do except get out of bed, your morning mood broken. unbeknownst to you, oikawa peeks at your back.

“i’m just— i’m gonna go shower,” you mumble, and add, “it’s okay if you leave the door unlocked if you wanna go,” as an afterthought.

you turn the shower scalding hot, rinsing away the remnants of last night. you try not to strain your ears, try not to think about oikawa leaving while the memories of his touch are still on your mind. by the time you get out of the bathroom, your body feels clean but your heart still feels heavy.

“u-uh,” you hear from the living room, and you look up in surprise, “good shower?” oikawa asks, averting his eyes from your naked body.

“tooru?” you hold a hand over your breasts as an attempt at modesty, “what are you still doing here? i thought— i thought you left...”

he’s still shielding his eyes, but you can see the furious blush on his face. he’s embarrassed, you realize, watching his curled up form on your couch. you walk closer to him, dripping water all over the place, but you don’t care. you take his hand away from his face.

“s-sorry,” he mumbles quietly, still covering his eyes with one hand, “i was kinda mean earlier...”

you stare at him, finally relaxing. you burrow into his arms, leaving him sputtering over how he was getting all wet. you pout anyway, looking up at him with watery eyes.

“you’re such a dork, tooru...”

— kageyama tobio

when you wake up, kageyama is already getting dressed, slipping on the sweats and trackshirt that he wore to your place last night. he’s doing it so meticulously, so seriously, that you just watch him for a few moments before you say anything.

“tobio?” you call when he’s done, his hand on the doorknob of your room, “why don’t you come back to bed?”

he turns to look at you blankly, “no, i should get going. i have some things to take care of today.”

you search for signs that he’s evading, but knowing kageyama, he really does have errands to run, ones that he wouldn’t put aside even for five minutes in bed with you. he’s always been like that, straightforward—so you give him your best smile, pulling the blankets up to cover your chest, and wave him goodbye.

“okay,” you say quietly, the hurt from his dismissal lingering, “have a good day then, tobio.”

you try not to read into his actions for the next few days, but it gets harder with every moment that passes when he doesn’t contact you. he sometimes sent texts unprompted before that night. you’re disappointed when he doesn’t.

you see him by chance after a week, when you’re sweaty and out of breath after a jog. your heart’s already racing when he runs up to you, looking exactly as he did the morning he left you in bed.

“y/n,” he greets, face impassive, “how are you?” 

you avert your eyes, telling him you’re good, even though you’ve been worrying about this despite your attempts not to. it’s awkward, with the sound of the wind blowing between you, and you don’t know what to do.

he looks around, hands in his pockets, “um...” he starts, blush forming on his cheeks, “do you want to spend some time together today?”

“but—” you look at him in surprise, “but you— i mean... do you want to?”

he’s confused, shifting his head to the side. “yeah,” he agrees, like it’s natural, “we haven’t seen each other much the past few days so...”

“i just...” you mumble quietly, “...thought you didn’t wanna see me anymore.”

“huh...” he hums, looking away, “sorry, i’ve just been busy. i guess i should have sent a message or something... but i, um... i missed you.” 

you take him in then, with his flustered expression, and think, yeah, tobio is like that. he’s honest, almost to a fault, and you should have known. you relax, sliding your hand in his, just to watch him blush harder. 

“i missed you, too, tobio,” you smile, “let’s finish our jog, yeah?”