#this came out five years ago and i Still want to fuck this asshole…

[arivsxq]

Pairing: Jungkook X reader

Theme: angst, friends to lovers to enemies

Warning: +18, mention of drugs, smut, angst, JK is kinda an asshole

Song: Friends-Chase Atlantic

Word count: 1k+

A/N: hey, I was bored last night so I thought “why not write a little one shot?”. Hope u like it and sorry english is my second language so I tend to make some mistakes. Have a great dayyy

One thing I learned in the past few months is to always keep your promises. I didn't do that which led to, me lying to every single person I love only to be with the man that I loved. Can you even call it love? I think so. At least from my perspective, but from his? Did he love me or did he love the rush of excitement that came with the forbidden romance between us? I don't know and I probably won't ever know but what I know is that we both screwed up. The promise we made many years ago had its purpose and we ignored it because we were blinded by the mind-blowing sex we had when none of our friends were around.

Now we're sitting here, pretending like the past months never happened, keeping up this facade for our friends in the hope that they will never find out. The smell of weed lingers in the air, taking me back to the night before everything went down. "You want sum' "J.T. holds a package of cigarettes in his hand. I stretch my arm slightly to take one and light it up before I blow out the smoke into the cold night air. "I thought you wanted to quit" His raspy voice reaches my ears, making me stop my movements for a second. "I've changed my mind" I try to make my voice sound as normal as possible but even an idiot could see that something was off.

We were very close, even before our 'little romance' but now I couldn't even look into his eyes. "You guys are fine?" Cora asks. "Yeah, why wouldn't we?" and another lie. "You two seem off. I just thought you fought or something" She's right, we fought but that's the consequence of fucking your best friend behind closed doors. They drop the topic fortunately and out of one cigarette becomes a joint. Our five friends talk and laugh but the only quiet ones are me and him.

"I should head home now. It's past midnight and I have practice tomorrow" I get up from the bench and take my bag. "How do you get home?" Dane asks, reminding me that he had quite a few drinks by now. "Walkin' " I feel his gaze on my body and before I can think any further he stands up and says "I'll drive you". I want to say something. I want to say no, I really want to but I can't because our friends are listening. I wave them goodbye and start heading into the dark with him behind me like a guardian angel.

"I can walk" my voice echoes through the darkness, making him let out a laugh. "What's so funny?" "When will you stop lying, y/n?" I stop in my tracks and turn around to face him. "You are scared of the dark. You hate walking around at this hour"

"Things change" my answer makes him laugh again. "I still wonder how the others never found out because baby you are a terrible liar". My eyes widened at his statement but also because of the pet name he always called me when no one was around.

"I'm not a liar" another lie. "You are. You never have practice on Sundays". Fuck this son of a bitch. How does he remember every detail about me and makes me feel things I shouldn't? "I'm not the only liar here" my arms crossed in front of my chest, trying to make myself feel less exposed. "You're right but the difference is that I don't deny it" I want to rip this damn smirk off of his face, that he always makes when he knows he's right. He gets on his bike and puts his helmet on while I stand there dumbfounded. "Get on top" he throws the other helmet and I catch it. My eyes roll before putting it on and hopping behind him onto the bike. He puts on the engine after making sure my hands are secured around his waist that I knew so well and before I could feel my heart beating faster, we drove off into the night.

***

I should've known better when he said he wanted to follow me upstairs and make sure I would get home safely. But I was too dumb to think twice or maybe I hoped that this would happen. That's the reason why he's pounding inside me, right? Making me cry out the noises that he loved so much while my acrylic nails bury into his skin. I feel his muscles flex under my touch. "Fuck" he curses when my walls clench around him. His heavy breaths tickle the side of my neck while his tattooed hand goes down to stoke my waist. Soft moans escape my mouth and I feel his lips again.

My legs feel numb, the kiss deepens and I feel him hitting the spot that makes me want to scream out his name. It's like he can read my mind. Fuck you Jeon. "Do it baby. Say my name" he grunts beside my ear. I whine at the pleasure that starts building up inside me and as much I hate him, I still can't get enough of him. "Say my name baby. Tell me who makes you feel good"

"Fuck you, Jungkook" is the only thing I get out before the knot in my stomach explodes and my orgasm rolls all over my body.

He moans at the feeling of my walls tightening around him and increases his speed, pounding faster into my dripping core. "I missed you" did he? "Fuck I missed you so much" my heart clenches and I feel what I did when he whispered sweet nothings when he had me in his arms. And that's the moment I start thinking that maybe he has changed. Maybe we can try to be something again but this time stop lying about it. Dumb little girl. Because the next day I wake up he's gone...again.

[psychoticwillgraham]

i Need him carnally,,,

[arafilez]

ONCE MORE WITH SUMMER ㅤㅤㅤ☆ ㅤ —﹙ H.TS ﹚

MOVING ㅤ,ㅤ back to your hometown brings you memories and your childhood friend taesan !

ᶻzㅤ( x fem!reader ) 𓂃 ㅤ fluff, childhood frnds, summer romanceㅤ warnings kissing, nicknames ㅤ⋆ ( 5.5k wc ) ㅤ

onedoornet summer with you ❟ㅤ library ㅤ bnd shelfㅤ navi

A cool breeze hits your face through the open window of your car as you let the summer sun hit your skin. You smile in contentment when you enter the familiar area and look at the neighbourhood you have grown up in. Not much has changed in the four years but you feel a fresh wave of nostalgia hit when you see everyone you knew on their regular work schedule.

It really is good to be back home!

Steering the car onto your parent’s porch you skip towards the steps ringing the bell. The house that was re-painted just before you left now doesn’t look that bright, with some dark patches visible if you look closely enough. You hear the door click, and your mom instantly hugs you as soon as the door opens.

Passing a high-five to your dad, you go up to the car to bring your university stuff in. With some very stupid questions from your dad and cute attempts to get you to eat everything your mom had made they leave you alone to go to their own work. The quietness of the house settles around you, a stark contrast to your loud roommates back in Uni as you make your way upstairs to your old room to unpack.

Before you can even start unpacking the doorbell rings making you sigh. You get up grudgingly, still hating the idea to go downstairs even though it has been six years. You turn the knob without much thought knowing it might be some kind of delivery.

“’Sup?” he asks and you still in your tracks hearing the voice. With jet-black long hair with Oreo shades and his signature smirk, there was Taesan wearing a light white t-shirt and shorts standing at your door. You stand in confusion for a while before screaming, “Taesan?”

“Wow you are still blind because I don’t see anyone else here,” he deadpans pretending to look back before he yells lightly as you slap his arm. For a moment it’s all quiet, the sound of quiet breaths filling the void and it almost feels unnatural before he speaks up.

“Still have tortoise feet?” You choke on air at his question glaring at the tiny smirk adorning his face and grit out, “I never had tortoise feet, asshole.”

“Do I need to search up pictures to prove you again?” he grins making you push his chest which he easily dodges. “What? You want me to be nostalgic when we literally messaged last week?”

“You can at least be a little cordial,” you scoff as he enters your house murmuring, “Cordial, my ass, but sure, how have you been my dear tortoise-feet friend?”

“Genuinely, fuck you,” you grit out, pursing your lips and smiling as he turns coyly and says, “No can do too busy honey.” Your eyes widen as you plop down on the couch and look at him asking, “Did you and Reah finally do it? I thought it would at least take ten years with the pace you two were moving with.”

“I broke up with her eleven months ago,” he shrugs nonchalantly as you choke on air for the second time today and scream, “How could you not tell me?”

“You didn’t ask,” he makes a face making you gasp at his answer before you shrug. Taesan has always been like this so deep down you are aware he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. He once fell from the swing set because you pushed too hard and even though six-year-olds are major tattle tales he didn’t utter a single thing about how he scraped his knees to his mom or you.

You came to know months later that his knee had been bloody making you feel extra bad because he kept quiet. This incident is almost as same as this but you avoid the “why” and go on, “So who is the new one?”

“We broke up because I realised I just liked her for being the exact similar to me but slowly I realised we have a lot of differences we can’t mend and that led to us breaking up,” he replies, sitting down beside you and shrugs at your wide eyes saying, “You were thinking it, weren’t you?”

You avoid his eyes as he chuckles still training his eyes on your face before he says, “Well you are still bitchless.” “How would you know that?” you scoff knowing full well he is right, that in fact, you don’t have anyone right now.

“You would scream-text me if you get a boyfriend like you have done before,” he smirks knowing he has the upper hand in knowing all your tiny habits all so well. You show him the middle finger before crossing your legs and leaning back saying, “Then how are you too busy, Mr. Han?”

“You’re wrong there, I said I am too busy to fuck you, not anyone else,” he leans over to you, face close to yours, the little smirk that you feel is permanently attached to his face on display making you stare back.

Your eyes lock with his and you can slowly feel the air drain out of your lungs and the familiar ache return. You purse your lips looking away and try to slap yourself to reality. It has been four years and the summer you return is not the time to rekindle your feelings.

Four years ago when you had incessantly teased Taesan for being bitchless he revealed he actually had a girlfriend which had left you choking on air. You had not expected him to have anyone and secretly hoped your wishes come true. But he got a girlfriend and you knew you had to suppress those feelings one way or another and never tell them to Taesan.

You did not want to burden him further and on the other hand, you would get incessantly teased for a lifetime by his over-inflated ego. And you definitely did not want the second one.

“Girl,” Taesan’s voice reaches your ears making you jump up and you realise you had zoned out. “Sorry,” you murmur softly before turning towards him and getting another light jumpscare from how close Taesan is sitting.

He, too, gets hyper-aware of the proximity before he moves away quietly. A thick silence falls in the air as you two keep quiet adding another layer of tension to it. Taesan clears his throat suddenly as you sit up straight knowing he will say something.

“Do you want to go to the drive-thru movie tonight?” your eyes widen as soon as the question leaves his mouth and you excitedly sit up yelling, “Yes.” You two were never allowed to go to these movies without parental supervision or a group of friends before in high school and now the idea seems too thrilling to miss out on,

And your parents don’t have restrictions on you now.

“And get all that greasy popcorn and burgers to go?” Taesan asks again, his eyes glinting with mischief and you deadpan, “Is that even a question Han Taesan?” He laughs as you start bouncing on your seat with excitement.

“Meet you tonight?” he asks as you nod watching him leave through the door. You knew exactly where to meet him!

“You do know our parents won’t tell us anything if we properly went out, right?” You giggle as you jump down on the soft mound of dirt in your backyard as Taesan shrugs saying, “For old time’s sake.”

“If you are really stuck up on that then let’s call your mom and tell her to catch us and get us grounded for two weeks,” you smile as he laughs at you. Back when you two were eighteen you had once snuck out to go to a drive-thru movie alone. Taesan had just got this license and he needed to put that to good use. But everything came to an end when Taesan’s mom stood at her gate ready to greet you two and she even called your mom. You two never knew how she was aware of it but you were aware of being dragged back home as you glared at Taesan the whole way back and then got grounded.

You smile at the memory as you follow him out watching him walk out the backyard towards his car. You look at him properly for the first time properly in six years, slowly realising that he has lost most of his teenage features. He already had puberty hit him like a Mac truck but now when you slowly see his adult features you realise how much you all have grown.

But that was the problem with Taesan and your feelings for him. You had them when he fell of a swing set, had a runny nose, when he was a scrawny teen, when he changed in his puberty, and you realise now they were slowly coming back.

But unlike in the morning, you didn’t want to deny and suppress them anymore, instead, you wished he saw you in the same light you saw him. You are aware that might be a big delusion you are walking on but the night was young and you are willing to give everything a try.

“You are being exceptionally quiet, you know? Did university turn you into some thinker or shit?” Taesan breaks the silence looking at you making you roll your eyes at him. You sit down on the passenger seat and take in a deep breath inhaling the way his car smells so him.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, he notices you distracted because you haven’t talked back to him about his comment and right now you are blankly staring at the streetlight in front of you. He sighs, knowing better than to poke you about it, he would definitely do it if you two were kids, but you grew up.

And he knows that he can’t be the same as he was before.

He waits for a while watching you intensely stare at the streetlight before leaning over and pulling the seatbelt over your body. The sudden figure blocking your sight finally breaks your trance as you are surprised to see Taesan’s body so close to yours. You gasp lightly as you feel him tighten the belt and look away to do anything to remove the idea of him over you from your mind.

You feel your breath hitch as his body continues to hover over yours making you wonder what is taking him so damn long to get a seatbelt. You look up slowly, eyes tracing along his face and loving every small feature that is accentuated in the low light.

“What are you doing?” you whisper when you feel your breath back in your throat and regret it immediately as he turns his head directly over your face and snickers, “What do you think?”

The moment is broken instantly as he sits back down with a thud and replies, “Little miss passenger princess cannot tie her own seatbelt.” “Shut the fuck up, I can,” you retort hating and loving how he is back to his usual routine of making fun of you by calling you a ‘princess’.

“Sure! That is exactly why you complained about your roommates first day after moving out,” he smirks as you gasp saying, “They were insufferable and you are aware of it.” He grins at your sentence knowing well he does know it because he trusts you with his heart. Some people might call him blind but he knows his childhood friend better than she knows herself and he would actively ignore those people.

He starts driving out of the alley with one hand on the steering wheel which you find oddly attractive making you slap yourself internally. You need to wake up before you regret doing something you only have ever dreamt of. Your eyes stick to his side profile again as you trace your eyes down his arms to the wheel and then back to his face smiling a little at the familiarity of the situation.

You feel like you are seventeen again when you couldn’t drive and he would drive you around, which slowly started with mere neighbourhoods before it escalated to secret escapades. The last part has always been a secret between you two unless well he has told any of his exes.

“Man I missed you driving me around and running errands for me,” you sigh, realising how much you actually missed this making him snicker as he replies, “Aww, the princess had no one to drive her around in uni?”

You roll your eyes at his teasing as you retort, “Hey it is your fault to make me like this, always driving me around.” He locks eyes with you in the rear-view mirror replying, “And have you ever once heard me complaining?”

The soft smile that follows that question has you breathless for the nth time that night before you watch him slowly look away. Your eyes rest on the road in the front watching the dark and familiar neighbourhood before your eyes train to the sign of the drive-thru that you are seeing after a decade.

“Wow the sign is still tacky,” you comment and Taesan speaks, without missing a bit, “Just like someone I know.” You glare at him as he shrugs saying, “I did not mention any names though,” a small smirk making its way into his face.

You smile sarcastically at his comment waiting for him to park the car at an empty spot. “What are they playing tonight?” you ask in a sing-song voice making Taesan hitch a breath wondering why didn’t you say anything to his last comment.

“Ooh, Mean Girls, love that,” you pucker your lips looking at him as he chuckles nervously as he parks his car in an empty spot between two cars and stops the engine.

“You know what else I love?” you ask and he side-eyes you wondering what lunatic he has as a friend and you giggle maniacally as you suddenly move over to his side and strangle him as he catches your hand trying to stop you.

He is strong, you will give him that, as he tries to restrain you, choked voice leaving his tongue before he finally grabs your hands and forces them apart and looks up at you. You glare back at him, faces inches apart as he breathes heavily.

You stay quiet, mind in a haze at the lack of distance and not processing anything. Taesan’s hands still wrapped around your wrist you stare at him shamelessly. Taesan is not much better as he licks his lips and holds your wrists properly so you don’t fall.

The intro of the movie plays suddenly making you and Taesan both jump as you quickly shift to your seat laughing awkwardly as Taesan’s eyes fix in the screen in front of you.

“You’re still ugly,” you hear him snicker after a while as you chuckle saying, “I will really choke you to death this time.” He rolls his eyes as you deadpan before he holds out a greasy burger in front of you. That shuts you up in an instant as you snatch it away from his hand moaning in delight.

“Wow, I did not want to hear that,” he murmurs and you snicker making the sound three more times just to annoy the shit out of him while looking at him with sparkling eyes. He lightly slaps your cheek as your attention finally snaps to the screen.

You lean back as he does too before you two start judging the cheap choices that the characters make and laughing uncontrollably. Just like old times!

You don’t remember when you got home last night but your mom’s scream gets through your ears as you hurriedly sit up to see her standing at the door and say, “If you don’t come down in five minutes, forget breakfast exists.”

You whine in a groggy voice as you reluctantly get out of bed to freshen up. As soon as you reach downstairs your smile drops seeing Taesan being all smiley and helping out your mom as she animatedly talks to him.

God forbid she treats him better than she will ever treat you. You roll your eyes as Taesan passes you a smile which is ninety percent evil and sit down at the table. You hear your mom groan as she sits down and says, “My back hurts so bad.” Your breath hitches as soon as you hear that knowing very well that is her way of getting you to run her errands.

And with Taesan here, she is gonna exaggerate it to make sure you are the one who gets it done. Your eyes thin at her as she locks eyes with you before smiling and continuing, “How will I do my gardening today?”

You purse your lips cursing her internally. Your mom knows you hate gardening like hell and she was down to make you love it and you can’t believe she pulled that one trick on her old book.

“We will do it for you,” Taesan replies without missing a beat and your head is instantly in your hands. You hear your mom gasping and thanking Taesan as you chuckle sarcastically making a mental note to get her back for it.

That is how you land with rubber gloves and a shovel in your hand at your family garden while Taesan holds the dirt in one of his hands and some small flower plants ready to be sowed.

“Fuck you and your best child mindset,” you curse at him before walking ahead as he smiles at your attitude. He loved your chaotic personality more than he cared to admit and he is glad that it didn’t change in the last four years. A lovesick smile plasters over his face as he sees you angrily plant the shovel into the soil and stomp in your plastic boots.

“You still hate gardening?” he chuckles and you deadpan saying, “I didn’t go to Uni to do a gardening major now did I? So of course I still hate it, you idiot.” He snickers at you throwing the dirt bag close to your feet making you glare at him.

The planting part is quiet before Taesan breaks it with his dumb question, “So princess how is it? Getting your hands dirty and doing the peasant work?” You snicker shaking your head lazily; Taesan did a wrong thing asking that because the next thing he gets is you throwing a ball of dirt towards his face.

It happens so fast he cannot dodge it as he gasps wiping the dirt off his clothes and wiping his hands on yours. “Yah, Han Taesan,” you screech as he giggles menacingly and gets up running to the other side of the garden. It takes a while for you to get up but once you do you run, laughing as you see him try to hide behind the bushes.

“You think you can escape,” you smile like a lunatic and then laugh as you pick up the hose pipe and kick the tap open. Taesan fills a huge hit of water before he can run as you run with the pipe behind him.

The summer heat gets in your system, making you sweat profusely but you wish you cared as much as you do to annoy Taesan. So you are frankly surprised when you feel the cool water splash to you from all directions making you scream.

“Having fun?” you hear Taesan’s voice and laugh before you can decipher how the heck he turned on the sprinklers. “Not yet,” you yell back running behind him as you spray him one last time before tackling him to the ground.

He makes a groan as his back hits the ground followed by you on top of him as you laugh. Your full body is soaked as you grin looking at the Oreo hair sticking to his head. His giggles reach your ears as his hands wrap around your waist and you two shake while laughing.

When you finally stop you realise the proximity you are in and your smile drops. You are literally on top of him, while his hands are wrapped around your waist as your elbows rest on the ground. Taesan is still smiling as he looks at the messy garden.

He looks back at you and suddenly is hyper-aware of the proximity too. You stare down at his brown orbs, your rational mind telling you to move away but your body not allowing you to. Meanwhile, Taesan has somehow short-circuited not knowing how to process the current situation.

You are so tempted to look at his lips, but you force yourself not to before reality strikes and you hurriedly get off him.

You laugh awkwardly as you say, “We should be glad we didn’t ruin the good part of the garden.” He laughs too, awkwardness filling the air, as he looks back at the wet bushes and ground, willing to look anywhere but your eyes.

You get up, and he finally looks up as you stand awkwardly, and his eyes widen saying, “You should go change.” “What? Who will help you then?” you ask, offended. Did he think because you were a girl you couldn’t help him do the heavy work?

His eyes shift awkwardly to your other neighbour who was at his door before he towers over your figure gritting his teeth and says, “Just listen to me for once and go change.”

“You’re annoying as fuck,” you murmur but go anyway. If he wants to do more work, then fine, he should suit himself. You like lying down anyway. You curse him again as you enter your room when your eyes finally land on your figure and you realise why Taesan forced you.

Your pink bra is fully visible through the white shirt you are wearing and you realise why he kept pressuring you. Your face heats up at the thought of him looking at you while you look like that before you hurriedly peel off the clothes off your body.

The faster the moment of embarrassment is gone, the better. Isn’t it?

It definitely isn’t as you hear Taesan making fun of you for the fifth time that night as you sit in your favourite Tteok-bokki place. “Okay enough,” you grit through your teeth as your face turns a permanent shade of pink for the night.

Taesan laughs again and this time you take a handful of your food before stuffing his face with your food and watch him choke lightly. “Lunatic,” he mouths before he gulps them down and you grin menacingly. You inhale the food scent loving again to be back home.

It has been three weeks and you already don’t want the summer to end. You wish you could stay here and not go away but you know you have to when you see the email notification hanging on your phone.

But first, you decide as you remove the notification, you need to enjoy the summer.

“We haven’t really done any summer activities, you know?” you speak as you put another serving of tteok-bokki in your month and Taesan hums before saying, “Yeah, but it is our summer, do we really need to religiously do any summer activities?”

You nod quietly, hating he makes sense as he chuckles, “You hate that I made sense right now, don’t you?” Your smile drops as you sigh. Why does this boy know you so well? He could know you a bit less well and it would be way easier for you.

“Fine, since you want to do some summer activity we can go the park from here and see the stars,” he murmurs, regret hitting him instantly as the sentence leaves his mouth. He had promised to never ever do this kind of romantic stuff with you. It doesn’t help his heart at all but his mouth definitely doesn’t know when to shut up.

He looks up, hoping you are so engrossed in your food you didn’t hear it but it all goes in vain as you stare at him with round eyes. Those eyes, those stupid damn beautiful eyes that were always his biggest weakness.

That is a damn lie! Every part of you is his weakness and he knows it. He tried, he genuinely tried to move on as he didn’t want to ruin the friendship at all. Every time you two made fun of the rumours of you two dating, he secretly hoped there was a part of you that didn’t take it as a joke.

Little did he know, your heart was hurting too, watching him smile at something you wish was true.

So he tried, he got a girlfriend, and he loved her but they broke up and it followed the same pattern for all his exes. He just fell out of love! And it sucked, because the only one he knows he would never fall out of love with, is you. And you are out of his reach!

“Sure,” your small voice breaks him out of his trance as he watches you quietly get back to your food.

Sure enough, you two walk to the park silently, feeling the night breeze hit your bodies. The park is silent as you two lie down and not a single word passes as you two look up.

The stars sparkle brightly as you look up from the dark park grounds. The swing set lightly sways in the wind as you hear the metal creak on its joints.

“I have never done this before,” you whisper as he laughs nervously saying, “Why not? You are a hopeless romantic, I thought you would have at least done it once with your every ex.”

You turn towards him, resting your head on your elbow as a pillow and say, “Yeah but he has to be really special, and none of them really were.” He turns his head sideways, not knowing why his heart calms down and gets excited at the same time. He is glad knowing he is the first one you are doing this with.

On the other hand, you just said a sentence that might make him rip all his hair and take a dunk in the pool to get his mind cleared. “So you think I am special?” he jokingly asks, half wishing you don’t answer.

You gulp as his eyes lock with yours and you hum lightly as you turn back towards the sky. You cannot possibly hold eye contact with him or he will know all those feelings you had kept hidden for years.

You gulp again looking up and changing the topic as you say, “It is really pretty.” Taesan hums in approval, eyes not leaving your face as he replies, “It is.”

Things have been a little awkward since that night, but you wish you overcome it soon. You definitely do not want to fuck up your friendship in the last few weeks left.

You jump when you hear a tap on your window and then two more before you get up from your bed and look down. You are hit with a paper ball in your face as you close your eyes and take a deep breath before yelling, “Yah Han Taesan.”

He giggles as you shut the window and get down the stairs to teach his unserious ass a lesson. “We are not kids anymore you know,” you reason as you shut the door loudly as he shrugs throwing another paper ball towards you which you skilfully dodge.

You run towards him as he giggles running out to the street and you scream at him to come back. You catch up with him pretty easily as he runs lazily and wrap your arms around his waist tightly to prevent him from getting away.

He turns around laughing and holding the paper balls high enough to be out of your reach as you whine saying, “Not fair.” “Why not?” he whines back mocking your tone as you jump up to get the paper balls but all is in vain as he keeps them skilfully out of your reach.

Suddenly drops of rain hit your skin as you look up to see the clouds forming. “Fuck,” Taesan murmurs under his breath wanting to go to a shade as soon as possible but you clutch at his sleeves stopping him.

“What?” he asks, as the rain increases as you reply, “Let’s get drenched.” He laughs at your face before realising you are serious and says, “You know we might get killed, if our moms find us getting purposely drenched, don’t you?”

“Fuck I wish I cared,” you reply back closing your eyes to get the summer rain in your system. Taesan smiles, mesmerised by you as he watches you twirl around and jump lightly.

He chuckles when he hears you giggle along, lovesick eyes training on your figure as you dance like a crazy person on the street.

You let the rain hit your skin but maybe you were too mesmerised to realise the puddle was nearby as you slipped. You grasp on thin air, a short yelp leaving your throat but before you can hit the ground you feel Taesan’s arms around your waist as he pulls you to his chest and hugs you.

“Be careful,” he murmurs as you stand awkwardly with him half-hugging you and your chest heaves up and down at his voice. It is weird, you have never heard this tone from him, this protective tone or maybe you have never realised he had used it before.

You look up and before you can stop yourself your hands are working their way up to part his wet hair lightly from his forehead as he stares down at you smiling.

Taesan knows it is now or never. He should not keep quiet, he needs to tell you right now! Maybe it is the high of the summer rain, or you looking up at him with your wet lashes or the fact that you are held so closely to him he finds himself spilling what he wanted to do for decades.

“I like you,” he whispers and your hand stills as you look back at him, wishing you weren’t hearing things. The silence that takes over is deafening as you gulp and ask, “What?”

Taesan takes a deep breath before he says, “I like you, I have liked you for so long, but I never had the courage to tell you and I saw you getting so happy when I announced my first girlfriend, like you never wanted us to be a thing because you cringed at our rumours. But god, have I loved you all through my life, even through your awkward emo phase and god, I tried, I tried so hard to move on, but I couldn’t but I wished I could because you never liked me did you, and even now-“

He shuts up when he feels your lips on his and it is gone as soon as it comes as you stare at him even in shock that you did that. His eyes lock with yours before he grabs you by your waist and pulls you towards him and places his lips on yours without wasting a single moment.

The kiss is not awkward instead, it feels familiar, like you have done it a thousand times before and it feels close to home. So close, that it felt like home! Your fingers intertwine with his as you giggle when you feel him smile in the kiss. The summer shower gets into your lips, messing it up in the most perfect way possible.

When you part you punch him lightly saying, “Stupid, I thought you were the one who didn’t like me back,” as he shrugs and says, “Guess we are the original dumb and dumber duo.” You laugh loudly at him before you hear your mother’s voice screaming.

You two look back to see both your mothers standing at a distance, probably yelling at you two as to why you were getting purposely drenched. But you can’t hear anything over the buzzing excitement in your ears and a loud thumping heart.

“Should we do it?” Taesan whispers in your ear, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he holds you close with a hand wrapping around your wrist while the other casually rests on your waist.

“Run? Yes definitely!” you answer your own question giggling as you look up at his brown orbs that hold so many memories. All the love, lies and hate, all the times you had looked at them and wished he was yours. From childhood to now!

And that is finally true!

“Once more with summer, right?” he asks as your eyes focus on his figure, slowly making the haze of your mother’s figure get closer and closer to you two.

“Once more with summer,” you confirm, smiling and biting your lips as his grip tightens around your wrist and you two run, laughing loudly. 

ARA'S NOTES ㅤ,ㅤ if you can't already tell, i have been religiously watching "love next door" because omg am i a sucker for childhood friends to lovers. anywaysss i hope you enjoyed this story that took two months to finish (i wrote 4k today itself shh). summer romance why can't you happen for me !

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( TAGLIST ) 𓂃ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

@slytherinshua @gong-fourz @emmylksblog

@aaa-sia @haneagerr @yeosayang @weird-bookworm

nets : @onedoornet @k-labels @k-films

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

[holylulusworld]

Two bikes (2)

Summary: You’re back in your hometown and meet two men from your past.

Pairing: former Jax Teller x fem!Reader (pre-story), Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: smitten Bucky, fluff, light/implied smut scene

A/N: I wanted Jax and Biker!Bucky in one fic. So suffer with me…

Two bikes (1)

Two bikes masterlist

He moves slowly but with enough strength to punch the air out of your lungs. You gasp with every powerful thrust, torn between lust and regret.

How could you end up in his arms? How could you let him fool you again?

“I knew you’d feel this good, baby,” he groans in your neck. His body presses yours into the mattress and you are glad that he can’t see your face.

You’re close to tears because of your bad decision of getting close to the man breaking your heart more than once.

If only he chanted your name when you were not tangled in each other. If only he meant the words he whispers in your ear while taking you apart.

You know better, and still, you fell for him again.

“Look at you, all fucked out,” he groans with the last thrust. He is still on top of you, his face buried in your neck long after he came inside of you. You feel his chest pressed against your back, so close that it feels like you are one person. “Shit, you gave me another one.”

He finally slips out of you, huffing as you do not move. “That was amazing,” he says while already looking for his pants. “Uh-maybe you should head home. It’s getting late and I’d hate for you to walk in the dark.”

“I-“ your voice fails. How can he be a passionate and sweet lover one moment, and the next he turns into the selfish asshole you know so well. “You’re right.”

You slip out of bed to grab your clothes and throw them on. He watches you hastily dress with amusement. “You can go slow. Give me a little show.”

“Fuck you,” you snap at him. You walk out of the room, your jacket, bag, and one shoe tugged under your arm to get away from the next mistake you made. “How could I have been so stupid?”

You walk away, ignoring passersby watching you walk along the sidewalk with only one shoe on. Your apartment isn’t far away from his place, and you are too out of it to put your second shoe on.

You’re more running than walking when you see your building. With your last strength, you spring toward the building and unlock the door with shaking fingers.

You stare at the word count before rereading the words. “That’s awful. A bad sex scene and the angst doesn’t hit right.” You rub your tired eyes. “Three hours and I only got three hundred and eighty lousy words. You’ve got to be kidding me, Y/N.”

Slamming the laptop shut you sigh deeply. Of course, your personal experience is always a good inspiration, but not this time. You want to start this book with a perfect opening, so the reader doesn’t want to put the book away until they read every single sentence.

“What do we do?” you hide your face in your hands and sigh again. Since the day you met Jax again, your mood turned sour.

You believed coming back to your hometown would spark your inspiration. Instead, you got your heart broken by the very same man causing you to leave town years ago.

“Fuck, I need to come up with something better than this shit.”

You’re about to give up when your phone starts ringing. Reluctantly you leave your unfinished first chapter to answer the call. “Hello, this is…”

You don’t get to tell your name before Bucky calls you doll. “Hey, doll,” he chuckles when you squeak a hello. “I wanted to tell you that I fixed your car. You can get it this afternoon if you want to.”

“That would be great, James,” you smile to yourself. Hearing Bucky’s voice saved you from despairing over your first chapter. “I can be there at five, is that okay?”

“No, no doll,” he stops you before you can say more. “I’ll pick you up, doll. I can’t let you walk or take the bus. And please, stop calling me James. My father called me that when I did something stupid. I hate it.”

“Did he call you James often?” you tease. “I bet he did because you did something stupid all the time. Like smoking or driving too fast.”

“Ma’am, I’m a responsible driver, and I do not smoke,” he replies, but you hear the joke in his words. “Maybe I like a good drink, but that’s all. Oh, and don’t worry. I don’t drink and drive.”

“I can call a taxi, Bucky. You don’t have to pick me up,” you try not to owe Bucky another favor. He refused to take money from you for repairing your car. That’s more than enough.

“Doll, if we want to stay friends,” he tries to sound serious, but chuckles, “you’ll accept a ride on my bike, miss. I’ll pick you up at five pm sharp. Please wear something…nice.” He laughs when you mutter into the phone. “Nah, just kidding. Come as you are, Y/N. That’ll be enough.”

“Fine, but I’ll pay you back somehow.” He makes an odd noise but plays it cool. “Oh! I know. I’ll devote the first chapter of my new book to you, Mr. Barnes.”

“A new book!” He gasps. “Will it be about the same woman? Another part of your series? Please say yes.”

You’re surprised Bucky knows your books. “Yes, and no. I try to…I don’t know.” You huff. “I want her to have a fresh start, just like me. Old habits die hard, but it’s time. If you know what I mean.”

“I know damn well what you mean, doll. I’ll pick you up at five and we can talk about that fresh start some more…”

“Here,” Bucky holds a leather jacket in his hands. It’s too small to be his, and you frown. “I got you a jacket, so you won’t freeze.” He grins when you glance at the jacket.

“Bucky, I’m not your old lady,” you point out, knowing about the traditions of bikers.

“Not yet,” he retorts. Bucky helps you into the jacket, and a big smile on his face when he zips it up. “Looks good on you, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes. He’s very charming, but you know the flirty banter will turn into something more if you don’t stop him. But…do you want to stop him?

“I got you a helmet too,” he grabs the helmet and helps you to put it on. He taps it twice and grins. “Perfect. Now we can go for a ride…”

Bucky gets on his bike, planting his feet on the ground to steady it. He holds out his hand to help you get on the back of his bike.

“Hang on, baby. I don’t want you to fall off my bike.” He smirks when you laugh. “You can hold tight onto me, Y/N. I won’t mind.”

You hesitate for a second. This situation is a little too familiar for your liking. You look at his back, reading the wrong club’s name on it. “Howling Commando,” you whisper.

“Is everything alright,” Bucky asks. “We can wait if you’re scared of driving in the back.”

“No,” you shake the memories of the past off and wrap your arms tightly around Bucky. “All good, Bucky. We can go.”

He starts the engine, ignoring he can feel you pressed against him. If he gets too distracted by your closeness, he’ll crash his bike with you in the back. And that’s the last thing he wants to do…

Tags in reblog.

[whorrorbellee]

FLAWLESS

warnings:smut, drug use. 18+ only please The bear but it's actually just linecook!Aemond x hostess!reader.  porn w a plot.

no beta we die or whatever

2014-7:40 Pm. 

You stand at the hostess stand, looking over the Ipad for reservations, you're absolutely swamped, it's a Saturday night in Knightsbridge, London. Barely seconds pass before the phone rings again, it's the same conversation you've had every weekend for the past year. “Sorry we’re fully booked!” 

“Do you know who I am?” 

“Yes! And here at RedKeep we thank you for being a loyal customer~” 

“I want to speak to the manager!”

 “Sorry the managers not here right now”

“Then who's next in charge?” Queue you, grabbing Daemon from the office, where he completely undermines what you're saying to the customer, allowing them to take a reservation from some poor couple who had saved up their money to taste the food from RedKeep, because it is good for business. 

Keep the loyal customers, he says, fucking asshole. You watch their smug faces grin as they walk in, pressed white shirts and silk dresses they didn’t fish out the bin from the local Guild care. Sometimes you smile and make your accent slightly deeper as you lead them to their seats. Other times you let them know it's you and lead them to the table directly by the bar, letting them hear the utter nonsense that Criston and Aegon spill behind the bar all night. 

But you always retreat to the back for your five minute smoke break, snatching the Marlboro reds from the office, Daemon winking at you as you shove your coat on in the winter. You let yourself breath in the only thing that keeps you going through your shift, music blasting from the shitty headphones that came with your phone and then crush half of it between the sole of your black doc martens, straightening out your black silky blouse, and wandering through the kitchen back to your stand, where you greet another customer with a smile faker than the diamond rings that protrude off the women's fingers.

You rub the tiger balm into the crook of your neck in the changing room, its 10:00 pm, kitchen closed about half an hour ago, and the chef’s are scrubbing the floor down on their knees, you thank god the only thing you have to do is inform Daemon of the reservations for the next week, fully booked until next august, they usually go down about then, people retreat to France and Italy for summer. Your shifts go down and you tutor rich brats who are failing their GCSEs. Spending summers writing essays about Macbeth for fourteen year olds who find nothing better to do than take their daddy's golf cart for a ride around their ridiculously huge back gardens in sussex.  

You hum to yourself, slipping of your blouse, the door opens and then is slammed shut. You turn, half naked in the changing room, your locker swinging open, Aemond stands with his nose pressed into his locker, you change into a band shirt and pleated skirt, pulling on high denier tights. “Are you coming tonight?” he whispers, it's soft, you watch him pull out his bag as you re-lace your boots. 

“Yeah, did Aegon get the weed?” you ask quietly, boots thumping against the floor as you stand, you grab your backpack from the floor, shutting your locker. 

“No Cregan did” Aemonds back ripples as he pulls on a black shirt, you watch his tattoos shift under it, he grabs his motorcycle helmet out of the locker, eye shifting to yours. You go to stand next to him. He pulls out a pack of Marlboro reds, original packaging, you wonder if they're fake, but the Polish words stare back at you, “want one?” he slips one into the corner of his mouth, pulling on his jacket.

You swallow, “Yes please” you take the cigarette and push it behind your ear, walking to the door. He follows. You push open the door, stepping out into the hallway, Daemon stands in the kitchen watching Rhaenrya sharpen the knives. You still refuse to believe they were ever married, her dad and him were such close friends it was borderline Insestuous. “I'm glad Cregan got it, Aegon always choses really weird strains, like unicorn poop? What is that?” 

Aemond shrugs and follows you out the back, you wave to Daemon and Nyra, door slamming behind you. Cregan and Aegon wait by your car, its scratched to fuck. From where Aegon had slammed the door into the tree. You don't even know why you own a car anymore, parking is so expensive in London, you only use it to get to work and home. You watch Aemond shove his helmet on and then leave the car park. Unlocking your car and letting the boys pile in. 

Cregan hits his head on the ceiling and Aegon falls into a mess of giggles in the back. You breathe in the scent of cherry, air freshener hanging from the mirror, Some arctic monkey's song comes on from the aux. You look to your left, Cregans on tinder replying to some bird. It would be rude to call him a slut but he gets around, he got some bird up north pregnant and now he has to send up money every month for a two year old he barely sees. You pull out, switching gears before starting your journey to Aegon's place it’s about half an hour drive into camden, you pass the punks on the bridge and pull in to the slip where Aegon's flat share is, he lives Aemond and a bunch of hippies that sell vintage clothes at the market. 

You run to the corner shop first, buying a bottle of cheap vodka and a diet coke. Then you walk back down the dark street, lighting the ciggie that Aemond gave you, a tote bag heavy on your shoulder, passing the bike and slipping down the side of the building opening the gates. The smell of weed hits you almost immediately. Cregan sits legs spread on the rattan furniture that Aegon stole from someone's front porch last summer. You don't know why he does it, his mum literally owns the restaurant. He earns more than enough. 

You slide up next to Helaena , she leans her head into your shoulder for a moment and then leans back, thumbs padding against her cracked iphone 5, Cregan hands you the joint its some cali strain this time, you rarely smoke. But Saturdays at the RedKeep are actually killing you. Aegon pulls out his speaker and decides to blast drum and bass. You steal the aux and play cigarettes after sex. Falling into the rattan sofa, pulling your Northface jacket around your legs, its fucking cold. Aegon's wearing his dressing gown and hoodie as he stands out the back door. You don't even know why you're in the garden, an hour passes and you find yourself sweating on the sofa, legs intertwined with Aegons as he spews on about some weird conspiracy theories; dragons being real, the lizard people shit. You talk about the ghost house when you lived in the isle of white for a year. And then you've had enough of talking so you head up to Aemonds bedroom to listen to music. 

Your socks run up the carpeted stairs, pausing outside Aemonds bedroom, you knock and hear him grunt a yes. You practically throw yourself into his bed, your phone bouncing from impact, he smiles at you, and you look at his mac playing on the bed, he’s watching reruns of misfits before it gets bad. 

“You know, Aegon always reminds me of Nathan? I can't watch it without thinking about him.” You sigh,“it's a shame because Robert Sheehan is really fit” Ameond hides a laugh, he's different now. He used to light up a room with his quick wit. But now he’s buried into himself, he just keeps retreating and retreating. You used to have this weird thing between you. It was all longing looks and brushed knuckles. He’d follow you outside on early morning shifts to have a ciggie, making you laugh, legs pressed against each other on the staircase. Sometimes you’d bring him coffee and he'd make you one of those fruit salads with all the fruit scraps, slices of mango and strawberry tops. Nights spent outside nursing a joint while Aegon sings incredibly loud in the lounge. No one was surprised when they saw you two getting closer, it's like fate really. Line cook and hostess. If it wasn't Jace it was going to be Aemond.

And then the accident happened. It wasn't Luke's fault, it really wasn't. Something had split on the floor, Luke wasn't wearing the proper shoes yet. He was just about to start his shift, so he slips, grabs for Aemond, His knife in hand just about to chop something, they both fall to the ground. You remember coming to grab Aemond for a cigarette and there was just blood everywhere. All over the white tiles. You remember thinking that he had spilt some kinda wine sauce, nearly laughing until he had sat up and his face looked like it was falling apart. He was shaking, too afraid to cry, and Luke was sent home. 

It was one of those slow days. So you had shoved him into the car with a napkin pressed over his eye. Taking him to A&E for stitches, he looked so different when he came out. He smoked a cigarette in your car with bloodstained hands. You hand squeezed his thigh as you took him home. Then days later you had picked him up from the hospital. White eyepatch over the gaping hole. They removed his eye incase of an infection. It wasn't salvageable, he had sliced right through the cornea. 

He wasn't at work for weeks, you remember standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him to come down and join the others, aegon had pulled you away after an hour. Too shy to head up there yourself and then months later you had taken a joint and pringles up to his room. He was just staring out the window, watching the sunset as Helaena  spun around with Cregan. 

“How was work?” he asks, you hand him a vodka coke, swinging your legs under yourself. 

“Fucking terrible, Daemon did it again” your hands runs through your hair. You look at Aemond, you can barely even notice the difference with his fake eye and real one, they got it spot on. “It pisses me off so much, like no wonder we aren't getting any new customers. When he keeps cancelling the bookings” Aemond shuts his laptop, he gets up and grabs a record from the pile in the corner, the needle hits the vinyl with a hum, it crackles around the room.  He's so different from his brother, you wonder where he gets it from. He's just softer. 

You miss his touch. He lies back down on the bed, hands over his heart, you're on your stomach, watching him breathe slightly, you wanna reach out and touch him, he watches you hesitate. “Sorry” he mutters. He runs his hand through his hair. Your eyebrows furrow, he looks away. 

“Why are you sorry?” you ask, you lean into your hands and watch him. Waiting for an answer. 

He pauses, chewing on his lips, and then his face settles, his lips back to the perpetual pout. “I know we had this thing between us, but you don't have to keep it going because you feel sorry for me” 

“Huh” your eyebrows raise, you almost wonder if he's joking, you wait for him to crack a smile, “ I~I don't know what to say Aemond, I don't feel sorry for you” you groan, your hands smush your face together and then you plant yourself into the side of his body. You feel him stiffen and then his hand comes back to smooth over the small of your back. Your face heats. “I ~ oh god” you look up at him watching his eyes twitch, “I always felt like you were just playing along with this whole thing, we had” you shift, pushing yourself onto your knees. “I've have this really stupid big crush on you, since I had the panic attack out back and you sat with me for twenty minutes even though Nyra was shouting at you.”

He sits up, your jaw shifts side to side, you wonder if you should just escape downstairs and sleep with Cregan instead. His hand reaches out to touch your thigh pulling back. He lets out a huff. “You’re fucking with me” he shakes his head. You shake your head back smiling.

“Wait a sec” you grab your phone and swipe back to a conversation you had with Healana months ago, you hand it to him. Watching his eye sweep across the messages. He smirks, and then scrolls down, your eyes widen, he laughs. 

“You can stop scrolling now” but he continues anyway smirk falling into a smile, “Aemond!” your own smile falls, “ Aemond, please stop scrolling” you grit your teeth. Your hand reaches to snatch your phone, But he pulls it away from you, you climb over his body hand on his shoulder, reaching out to grab at your phone. You feel yourself lose balance, you begin your descent onto his floor, but his arm grabs around your waist and pushes you back onto the bed quickly. He’s hovering over you, one arm on the bed the other lingering around your waist. 

“He’s gonna be the death of me” he smirks down at you. 

“Shut up” you huff, you bite your lips to stop you smirking, feeling heat rush to your face. You look up at him, watching his eyes glance down to your lips, you look at his. You’re so fucking high, and its not from the drugs. His hand brushes against your hip. Fingers pressing into the flesh, your skirt is flipped up, you don't even realise. It doesn't even matter because he’s already crashing his lips on your own. It's quick, chased and hard. You move together like you're running out of time, one hand brushing against your jaw the other pressed into your hip, you whine, hands running up his neck to his jaw, you're pulling him closer than what’s physically possible. 

He goes to untuck your shirt from your skirt, you part and pull it off over your head quickly, he takes in the curves of your body, tracing muscle and moles. “Nearly killed me today, walking in on you like this” you smirk under him, his hand brushed against your chest clad in a black lacy bra. You press his hands into your chest, he gropes and needs, his lips running down the column of your neck, you sigh under his touch, teeth grazing, lips nipping. 

Pupils blown, Aemonds hands fingers graze down from your chest to under your skirt, you pull him in for another kiss, teeth clashing together. Phone forgotten by the side of you. You feel his hands run down your legs, a finger hooks under the waistband of your tights, you lift your hips, propping yourself up on your elbows as he slides them down your legs, you part, standing and shifting them off. Aemond sits back and watches. The record crackles repeatedly through the speaker, and you lean down to pick one out. Carefully putting the vinyl into its sleeve. Needle back down, the music starts. “Your such a cliche” 

‘She planned ahead for a year… He said let's play it by ear’

“Shut up”,You slide yourself back into aemond’s arms, his hands run down your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps, your own run down his chest and then tug at the shirt he wears. He pulls it over his head before you know it. Your hands trace the pale freckles skin, pressing wet kisses down his throat, he slides a hand around your thigh, pulling you to straddle him. He pulls your chin towards him, meeting him in another heated kiss.You moan as he grabs at the flesh of your ass, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your back arches, your chest pressing against his. He trails his lips across your chin as he rolls both of you over, his hand grazes your inner thigh and you wrestle your skirt off quickly. 

He sticks his head in the crock of your neck, kissing tenderly. Hand brushing under your panties, he cups your cunt, swiping a finger through your folds, “Shit your wet” he pants, you feel him smirk against your throat. “This fo’me?” you nod your head, eyes half shut as you stare at him. Lips bruised and pouting. He eats up your whines with his lips as his finger traces your clit, your hands brush against his neck and then grip his hair. He slides a finger into you with ease. You moan into his mouth. He makes a come hither motion and slides another finger inside of you. Your back arches and he groans, pinning you into the bed. Your knee slides up and brushes against his hardness. 

‘Youre a doll, you are flawless ’

He stiffens, movements stilling. You smirk. His hands leave your body and you meet his lips again, hands brushing against his groin. You pull at the belt buckle. Pulling away from him to see what you're doing, he pulls your panties down your legs, head buried in the crock of your neck pressing hot kisses onto your skin. You fumble and then pull his trousers down, you can see the outline of his cock through his boxers. He grins down at you. You palm at his cock, watching him through your lashes. He sheds his boxers, you run your hand down his length loosely, thumb brushing over his tip. You watch him whine. “Condom?” 

“I'm on the pill.” You hum.

He pulls your body towards him, your crotch meeting his thighs, he leans closer. The head of his cock brushing past your folds, it feels like hours spent teasing you and then suddenly he pushes into you, feeling you stretch around him. “Shit your tight”,your hands grip his shoulders, mouth gaping open at how full you feel. 

“Fuck Aem” He begins to move slowly, you feel every inch of him, every vein brushing against you. He looks down watching you suck him in. His hands trace against the side of your body, stopping at your hips. 

Finger’s digging into the flesh. You feel so dizzy with pleasure. “Shit, so good fo’me” you clench around him, he lips curl upwards. “You like that huh?” you moan, feeling his cock brush perfectly against your walls. “So fucking pretty underneath me” your back arches. 

He pulls out and pushes you onto your stomach, you lift your hips, he hilts himself inside of you all at once. You feel him in your throat.you hands trace against his creased covers as he pounds faster into you. He pulls your back towards his chest. Hand grabbing at your chin. You look him in the eye. Biting your lip, you feel sweat run down your bodies, his hand slides down your front and runs tight circles around your clit. He leans in to kiss you. Pulling away with a string of spit. “Close Aem”

“Yeah? Already” 

You nod against him, his fingers brush up your neck, pinning your body into his, neck tilting. Lips brushing together. You feel him pulse inside of you. You feel the pleasure spread from your back until you can't hold on anymore. You clench around him. You can taste it in your mouth. You turned around and pressed into the covers by his body, he pistons into you chasing his high,You feel him falter, bringing his face to your own, he presses his sweaty forehead to your own. Chasing your lips as he cums. Your own legs shake from under him. He collapses on your chest. Teeth grazing against your tits. He smiles up at you,  you push his hair back from his face. 

“I really like you” he whispers, his hand meets your cheek, the pad of his thumb smoothing over your skin. 

“I'm glad” you smile, “because i really you” he pulls away from you, shrugging on some clothes and running out the room. He comes back with a wet flannel. Wiping the sweat of your forehead and then between your thighs. He kisses your shoulder and you watch him grab clothes out his drawer. You pull your socks on, and his adidas jumper, along with some joggers. The cuffs of his jumper slides down your wrist to your palm. You slide your phone in his pocket and wait. Aemond stands by the door. “You coming?” your eyes widen and you jump off the bed, grabbing his hand to pull him down stairs. 

The music is louder than usual and Aegon stares at you as you walk through the door of the lounge,“You finally fucked then” 

“Aegon!” Helaena  gasps, shoving a pillow at his face. You watch Aemonds face blush but push him into the direction of the back yard, picking up your coat and bag. You both sit on the rattan furniture, Aemonds arm wrapped around your shoulder as you roll a joint, he presses his lips to the side of your mouth as you lick the paper. It's not the neatest, but it's not Aegons, which usually look limp and bent. You push the tray of your lap and tuck your legs under you, leaning into his body. 

“Do you wanna go on a date?” 

You light the joint watching the cherry light, Turning to his side, he watches for your reaction. You smile, breathing in the weed and handing it to him. “Yes please” his lips curl. You pull your phone out his hoodie pocket, eyes widening as the texts to Helaena, light up. 

You: I literally need this man so bad I'm gonna have an aneurysm x Helaena: Istg, stop whining and talk to him all he does is ride his bike and go to work x

You switch your phone off and smile. 

[miraclewoozi]

hi j!! congratulations on 500!! can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you :) hope you’re having a lovely day! just wanted to send in a request:

❛ don’t be a stranger, okay? ❜ from the fluff list with woozi?

it’s no pressure though! thank you so much <33 mwah

LEE JIHOON, YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT I.T GUY. - l.jh

pair : jihoon x gn!reader prompt : “ don’t be a stranger, okay? ” wc : 2.3k heads up : coworker!jihoon. fluff. kinda silly.  notes : HI BESTIE thank u sm for sending this in!!!! i hope you like it.<3 notes 2.0 : everyone deserves an emotional support IT guy, in my unprofessional opinion. i also think that 100% of those should be woozi.

You knew Jihoon was leaving. You’ve had a lot of time to prepare for this: he told you before he even handed in his resignation that he had accepted a job offer elsewhere. But despite trying everything in your power (including, but not limited to, bribery, begging and three whole days of the cold shoulder), his decision didn’t change. When you gave him a full lecture about abandonment and betrayal, and the fact that nobody else in your work’s IT department comes close to solving some of the shit that happens with your computer…

He had the audacity to fucking laugh. 

In your moment of desperation. Your hour of need. Practically begging on your knees (all right, he was stood next to your desk while you were looking up at him from your office chair) for him not to leave you high and dry like this, he patted you on the shoulder and chuckled as he told you that you’d be fine. As if this wasn’t actually, literally, the end of the world. 

Asshole. 

And okay, whatever, maybe Jihoon isn’t ‘just’ the only person on the tech team who understands that you’ve been followed by a curse when it comes to computers since you were in middle school. Maybe he isn’t just so good at his job that him leaving has the potential to ruin your ability to do yours.

Maybe... it’s a little bit deeper than that.

You first met nearly five years ago, when he was brand new. In his first week, he came stumbling into your office, bleary eyed and coffee in hand, at 8:15 on a Monday morning to try and ‘fix’ your PC. After about 6 seconds of fumbling, your screens came to life and he flushed as he told you that a cable on one of your monitors had just come loose. Ever since, you’ve been totally taken with him: with his frowny concentrating face, his pretty, nimble fingers, his quietly delivered jokes. The way he always goes pink when the older ladies in your office coo over him and how he splutters when they tease you for practically being work-married, by now.

Not least because he’s a very nice guy, and you find him so easy to talk to, and now? Now he's leaving you. 

The guy who brings you snacks on days you have to work through your lunch breaks. The guy who comes by just to make sure you’re not about to dive out of a second floor window on a Wednesday afternoon. One of the special few people you choose to hang out with outside of work. He’s the man who meets you for coffee some weekends and lets you complain about the fact that the next closest person in your department to you in age could still be your mother, while he complains to you about bossy executives who escalate their IT jobs to a ‘critical incident’ after just five minutes. Jihoon is the guy who has brought you a silly gift to decorate your desk with every birthday and Christmas since you met. The guy who picks you up (with breakfast) when your car is in the shop getting work done. 

He even pretended to be your boyfriend one year when Johnny from accounting started to make moves on you during the annual Christmas function. (Perhaps him posessively keeping a hand on your thigh every minute you were sat down next to each other made it the best night of your life.)

All this to say… he gets you. He always has. Your weird little friendship with him works, and even though you still get butterflies every time you see him, you’ve never felt so comfortable with a colleague before. You can ignore your little crush when you start thinking about your devastation over him being gone soon. Your feelings have no part to play in Jihoon being someone you trust, someone who helps you immeasurably: someone who makes your working life a little more bearable. 

What on Earth are you going to do without him?

His last day has rolled around faster than you know what to do with, and at 3:30 on Friday afternoon, like clockwork, his head appears around your office door. An apologetic smile replaces the cheeky one he usually wears when he shows up, and you narrow your eyes at him before telling him to go away.

“Charming as ever,” he laughs, sliding into your office anyway and making a beeline for you, waving at the people who glance up and greet him. He leans against your desk and you sit back finally, crossing your arms. 

“I’m busy,” you lie, frowning at your screen. You finished everything you needed to do about ten minutes ago, but you’re not about to let him — or anyone, for that matter — know so. You’ve worked hard to master the art of looking occupied and you’re deploying every tactic you know: there’s no way you’re going to get five more projects added to your to-do list this close to home-time. “Traitor.”

“Last thing on a Friday? Like hell you are,” Jihoon chuckles, leaning down and looking at your screen too, speaking quietly enough to ensure no one around you can to hear him. 

“Blow my cover and I’ll slash your tyres,” you playfully threaten under your breath. “I’ve already rejected a meeting request this afternoon.”

“Well, aren’t you a team player,” he quips, rolling his eyes before he sits back upright and says louder, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to drop this off.”

He places a small brown bag on top of a neatly stacked pile of paperwork on the left hand side of your desk and gestures for you to look inside. When you do, you know your attempt at a stoic gaze starts to soften and you look up at him again with a saddened pout. 

“Hey,” you say quietly. “You can’t do this to me, I’m fragile enough already.”

It’s just a muffin, for crying out loud. He’s been bringing you these from the bakery across the street every week, for as many weeks as you can remember. But something about him doing it on his last day makes your heart beat out a funny little pattern and you bite the inside of your lip as he shakes his head. 

His hair is tied low today with a few pieces left out to frame his face: it softens him, giving him a bit of a curtain to hide behind, but you can still see his cheeks flush as he glances away from you. You slip your hand into the bag and pull the muffin out, setting it on your desk and peeling the paper back. 

“I’m really gonna miss you,” Jihoon says, momentarily stopping you as you rummage through your desk drawer for the cutlery set you keep wrapped up in there. You just wanted a knife so you could cut it in two. You just wanted to share this last little treat with him.

There are a million ways you could respond. Last-ditch attempts at telling him to retract his notice to leave. Advise that it’s his own fault. Pretend like you’re not going to be miserable here without him. To name but a few. 

But the fact that he’s picked up, and started to play with, the little fidget cube you keep by your pen holder for particularly boring Teams calls tells you that he isn’t saying it in the way he does when you’re taking a week off to go on vacation.

His thumbs rhythmically play with the little clicking buttons on one side and you pull the blunt knife free from the plastic bag hidden beneath your favourite notebook. Instead of teasing him, you cut the muffin equally and pick up one piece, holding it out to him.

“I’m gonna miss you too.”

He eyes you to make sure you’re certain before he takes the slice out of your hand and holds it in his fingers. You pick up the other piece and extend it towards him, bumping the two halves together in a mock ‘cheers’ for the time you’ve spent together. 

You take bites from the muffin in unison and you know the zesty lemon flavour spills onto his tongue at the same time as it does yours. Soft hums come from the both of you and Jihoon tilts his head back for emphasis, too, sighing contentedly after he swallows. 

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” You ask of him, laying the paper bag down flat and putting your own piece on top of it. “I mean it. You better not forget about me.”

“As if I ever could,” he says.

“You might, if there’s someone at your new job more pitiful than I am,” you counter. “You’ll have a replacement ‘me’ quicker than you can blink.”

Jihoon laughs, setting what’s left of his half of the muffin down too and dusting the crumbs off his fingers into the trash can at your side. 

“Trust me,” he starts, folding his arms. The subtle flex of his muscle makes the shirt he’s wearing tighten around his biceps and you glance down at them, at how his sleeves are pushed up to the elbows and his long, delicate fingers lay over the neatly folded cotton. “My eyes are up here. Trust me — I don’t want a 'replacement you'.”

You know your eyes go wide as he calls you up for staring and you look at his face immediately, at the coy smile he’s wearing, at the way the tips of his ears — just visible through the way his hair separates — are dusted pink. You just nod. He takes another bite, savours, and swallows it before talking again.

“So, I actually… kind of lied? There’s another reason I came down here, uh—”

You know this catches the attention of your office’s resident blabbermouth by the way her eyebrows pick up from a few desks in front of you and you tap his hip with the back of your hand, darting your eyes towards the door quickly to hush him. Jihoon catches your drift, nods, and stands up; you lock your computer and lead him out. When you’re in the hallway, door secured (and checked) behind you, he turns to face you again, leaning one shoulder against the wall.

“Okay. Shoot.”

“Okay,” Jihoon nods, tilting his head forwards for a second to gather his thoughts before he shakes his hair out of his eyes and looks back up at you. “I-… I know HR have this whole thing about, like… internal… relationships, and- and stuff? So I didn’t ever… you know—”

You hold your breath, clasping your hands behind you in the hopes he doesn’t see how they start twitching. His own, you realise, are deep in the pockets of his slacks. For the same reason?

“I wanted to. Trust me. For— shit, for so long, but I didn’t know if you’d go for it, and I really didn’t want to have, like… anyway — uh-…”

The blush that was formerly only given away by its presence on his ears has migrated to his cheeks now, and is starting to spread dangerously towards his temples and down his neck. He keeps glancing everywhere around your head, as if he’s chasing pixies in the air with his eyes. It's adorable, but...

“And… I guess what I wanted to say, is—”

“Yes,” you say before he can finish. He’s never been the most outgoing but you’ve still never seen Jihoon fall over his words like this before; you’re starting to feel agonised by how long it’s taking him to get to the point. 

(Especially when said point is what you’ve been waiting a small lifetime for.)

“I didn’t even ask—”

“You didn’t have to,” you laugh. He breaks into a chuckle as well. His shoulders relax. He exhales through his pretty, pursed lips. 

“Are you busy tomorrow night?” He asks, finally, thumb tapping against his forearm. 

“Free as a bird, actually.”

“I’ll pick you up at 7?” 

“I’ll be waiting.”

He lifts one hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, still laughing, screwing up his eyes and his nose in a way that makes him look entirely too kissable. You have to forcibly remind yourself that there’s nothing you can do about that right now, though, that someone could walk through that door any second and technically, he still works here until 5:30pm today.

Tomorrow night? Well. That’ll be a different story.

“I’ll let you go back to clicking through your emails,” he says then, pushing off from the wall. “Text me later?”

“Keep your voice down,” you grin, settling your hand back on the doorknob. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Jihoon bites his bottom lip as he nods and starts to back away, ultimately beginning on the walk back to his own department. You, however, need to let yourself calm down before you can so much as think about going back into your office: you fan your face with your hands and take a couple of deep breaths first, and only when you’re sure that there are no visible signs of glee left on your face do you re-enter, walking as nonchalantly to your desk as you can and pretending like every middle-aged, bespectacled set of eyes aren’t waiting for you to spill the gossip. 

You don’t need to spill anything, though. Pressed to the bottom of your keyboard, clear as day, — he must have done this as soon as you stood up — is a bright yellow Post-It. His immediately recognisable — but almost illegible — handwriting in the thick, black felt-tipped pens he always uses decorates the note, accompanied by a signature smiley face in the top corner. 

The ink is dry. The paper is a little curled. He wrote this before he came to find you, the giddy voice in your brain tells you. The words he’s written down only heighten that feeling. 

He gets you. He always has.

Don’t be a stranger, okay? Miss you already. - J.

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.&lt;3

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

Something something something husband Nikto with boyfriend König who have a strained relationship cause they were fuck buddies years ago long before you.

Tags: Nikto/König/Reader, sub! König, reader doesn't fuck but they do. Possessive/obsessive Nikto,Reader. Very much bottom König getting railed by Nikto for like a paragraph. He's a slut officer. Established relationship. Also some perverted reader and König in here. Just a smidge.

It was all messy and all ways fucked up and bloody before you came into the picture. Meeting and marrying you was one of nikto's only right decision in his all wrong life. Such a sweet precious thing, full of life and the irregularities of humanity in all the wonderful ways.

Sure dating one of your ex team/coworkers wasn't the best idea but eh. You were too good to pass up. König thought so too.

"Schatz, date at the 14th?"

"Hmm, sure, I'll ask my husband."

"What."

The poor man didn't even know the two of you were married before then because Nikto keeps his private life separate. Speaking of, the colonel finds himself thinking about the shorter brute more and more after their little...situation. Wonder why that may be?

And so he arrives at the house with two bouquets of flower. It would be rude if he only brought one right? His Oma always said if he was to find a partner he would get at least five flowers, she didn't mention what would happen if he was attracted to two people. That were married at that.

The door opening with a click as Nikto greets him first, a white tanktop and some shorts. It's all casual and all so much- He didn't even get to knock please have mercy-

He's leading him inside without any words. All silent outside yet loud inside as König internally cums over seeing some of Nikto's skin, all scarred and gott he just wants to run his tongue over those scars again please-

"So, you want my spouse too hm?", and it all comes to a pause. Hands purposefully hiding the flowers.

"Yes, sir.", Nikto used to love that, maybe he still does now, if not? even he's respectful in someone else's house.

"Prove to me you can be a good slut." Flowers turn forgotten on the kitchen table.

Their own lust reignited. Something domestic and new added in the mix of nostalgia as they find themselves another night together.

"ебать, just as tight as I remember."

"I hope our Liebling doesn't mind."

"ah, they are aware."

"Actually? Wait hold on shit- ngh- Schieß- right there-"

Hands and bodies he doesn't remember in the sunlight. Until he moves and a voice he remembers, every scene comes back to him like a train crash.

And he just takes it all. Every slap of hips against his sore, soft ass. Every spank Nikto delivers to his tight asshole and cheeks. Whining when a finger slips in, angled perfectly with the dick already splitting him open, moments before he comes with a loud grunt.

And he whimpers softly when Nikto overstimulates him, further milking and coating his prostate with teasing filling touches and their sin mixed throughout. The first to initiate and the first to pass out on the bed he doesn't recognize in the morning.

"You're awake, 'they' insisted you'd stay, you're welcome to."

And he's unused to the softness in nikto's tone. But he knows. He doesn't want to leave when you're in his arms and he's in yours. A man touch starved beforehand and now he's being held front and back its enough to make his heart nauseously full.

He's not allowed to leave either and he knows it too. The grip in Nikto's hands is unfamiliar but not unknown, something old he used to feel that only his muscle memorizes while he was asleep.

The sheets have been changed he's noticed, no longer the cum stained sheets he got ravaged on and passed out in. No doubt getting carried by the thicker man when he was out cold.

Surrounded front and back and a realization made. You're not theirs, he's yours and Nikto's. A realization that makes him whimper before he gets coddled by the two figures around him, hands already pawing at his tits and hips being shifted backwards. He's stuck with nowhere he'd rather be.

—

"So, how long have this been going on?"

"Three years." Some of Nikto's high quality coffee gets spiten out in pure surprise as said man gives off a loud breathy laugh.

"Am I intruding?"

"Not at all. We've been wanting a new pet."

××××××××××××××××××××××x x××××××××××××××××××××××

Ya boi did not proofread this have some fun looking at my grammatical mistakes.

[beom1e]

jerk! reunion from hell

you and your friends had started a band in your teen years, as you all shared a deep love for music. as serious as you wanted to be about the band, you put your education first and moved away during the summer after graduation. years later, you were expecting a warm welcome back from your childhood friends.

pairing choi beomgyu x fem! reader

genre angst, humour, fluff, childhood best friend! yeonjun, enemies to lovers, band! txt

warning cursing, bickering, alcohol

masterlist | next

‘yeonjun!?’ your voice echoed throughout the hallway. you let the large glass door close softly behind you, before you began lugging your suitcase down the unnecessarily long hallway lined with floor-to-ceiling windows. ‘is anybody home!?’

clearly, the boys were no longer spending day and night in soobin’s garage hoping to make it big. by the looks of things, their musical talent had actually paid off and gotten them somewhere. still, your confusion began to grow as you approached the only door that seemed to be in the stupidly-long and pointless hallway. you’d gotten the address from kai’s sister after explaining that you were planning on surprising them, but now you were rethinking it. maybe you’d just broken into a stranger’s home, or maybe the boys weren’t around and you’d just have to try again later.

you reached for the handle with shaky hands and pushed open the door. five heads whipped around to get a look at the intruder, and a million thoughts began to cloud your mind.

weren’t they happy to see you? they didn’t look happy. nobody was excitedly jumping around or running to hug you like they had the last time you’d visited, two years ago. they were all staring blankly at you as if you were a stranger. had they forgotten who you were? was the fame that brought along the riches too great that they’d already forgotten who had been there from the beginning? it was just five pairs of eyes staring you down and… wait, five?

‘are you some crazed fan?’ the unfamiliar face spoke, somehow snapping your friends out of their daze.

‘uhm no, i’m—’ you began, narrowing your eyes in annoyance.

‘she’s y/n,’ kai interrupted. ‘that’s y/n.’

‘oh, y/n,’ the new, fifth boy placed his guitar down and began to walk towards you. ‘i’m beomgyu, your replacement.’

‘my what?’ you grimaced. ‘what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘y/n, can i talk to you outside?’ yeonjun came speeding towards you, grabbed your arm and then brought you back into the headache-inducing hallway. ‘i’m sorry, we had no idea that you were coming.’

‘well, yeah, that was the whole point,’ you scoffed. ‘and who the fuck is beomgyu?’

‘he plays the guitar for us now,’ he audibly gulped. ‘and he sings, too. writes… produces… all that fun stuff.’

‘so… what?’ you pursed your lips. ‘i leave and you go and find my replacement? and you just never thought to tell me that there was a new member of the band you and i set up?’

‘we wanted to,’ he sighed. ‘it’s just been a very busy year. we’ve had signings and concerts and then we bought this place, and our album sales have just been—’

‘wait, wait, wait, slow down,’ you waved your hands out in front of you to cut yeonjun off. ‘he’s been here for a year? and you couldn’t think to shoot me a text or give me a call?’

‘like i said, we’ve been busy,’ he defended.

‘that’s bullshit,’ you folded your arms across your chest and gave yeonjun your nastiest stare. ‘so i guess now i better go back home and get caught up on your discography? should i just go buy a t-shirt with that asshole’s face on it and beg him to sign it for me since i’m merely an outsider now?’

‘woah, there,’ beomgyu forced his way into the conversation, after standing around and listening for way too long. he had his hands placed in his pockets and one foot resting back against the wall just beside the door. ‘what have i ever done to you, y/n? except turn your awful music into something that doesn’t make people’s ears bleed?’

‘excuse me?’ you practically growled.

‘beomgyu, don’t,’ yeonjun exhaled.

‘oh, she doesn’t know yet?’ clearly, he found the whole situation amusing. he was almost giggling away to himself.

‘what don’t i know?’ you raised a brow. ‘tell me, jun.’

‘just that beomgyu tweaked your songs before official release and they did better than they had before,’ the words felt like a stab to the heart. ‘but you’re not to blame, i mean you were like seventeen last time you wrote a song for us.’

‘i’m leaving,’ you felt your eyes water and your voice grow weaker. ‘i don’t belong here anymore… obviously.’

walking out of their very nice house was the first of your mistakes. you had just enough money to book a room at a cheap hotel, but not enough for a decently good meal. you ignored the calls from yeonjun and soobin, and sat down on your creaky hotel bed with your laptop to do some research. what you found only seemed to break your heart worse than the initial shock had.

beomgyu had been added over a year ago now. they made an announcement to the public and hundreds of teenage girls gushed over his good looks under their posts. then they released their first hit, a song you had originally written for them. of course, your name was listed in the credits section for participating in the lyrics, but they failed to mention you anywhere else on their social media profiles. they advertised themselves as ‘tomorrow by together’, but shortened it to ‘txt’ in most cases. it was a band of five men, like you had never even existed. their career kicked off very quickly and they began to sell albums in the millions, with their follower count increasing by hundreds of thousands every day. profit came fast, and they all moved out of their family homes to live together in the modern — slightly ugly in your opinion — house you’d visited.

you cried yourself to sleep shortly after, feeling utterly sorry for yourself. it hurt more knowing that your friends had been behind the whole thing, and your lack of credit in their band was nothing when compared with the betrayal.

after a cheap breakfast the next day, you took a cab to your local bus station and found a seat outside the building. there were calls missed and messages left unread on your phone, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

it was humiliating. you’d travelled hours alone to see the boys you had grown up with in hopes that they would happily welcome you back into your hometown. instead, they had started a new life that you weren’t a part of. they’d replaced you, given your songs away and moved into a new place without ever informing you.

with your headphones in and your gaze turned to the floor, you failed to notice the two boys trying to hail your attention.

‘seriously, y/n?’ you heard, as your right earphone was ripped out of your ear. it was yeonjun, you could tell without even lifting your eyes.

‘we should just go,’ beomgyu’s voice chimed in from behind yeonjun. your head snapped up at the sound and you turned your gaze towards yeonjun. ‘you’ve wasted my time.’

‘shut it, beomgyu,’ yeonjun warned. ‘y/n, you can’t leave.’

‘why not?’ you snatched the headphone out of his hands. ‘there’s nothing left for me here.’

‘i’m here,’ he reminded. of course. ‘there’s a spare room for you to stay in for however long you want, and i promise we’re going to make it up to you.’

yeonjun was your everything. or he had been, a long time ago. he was the sweet boy that helped you up after you tripped and fell face first into the park’s wood-chip floor. he was older and taller, and cared for you deeply, and despite his popularity throughout his teenage years, he never let anything get in the way of your friendship. it was yours and his idea to start the band, because you loved music just as much as each other. and when you met kai and taehyun, and he befriended soobin, the band just fell into place.

but when puberty struck, your hormones were an indestructible force that made you fall head-over-heels for him. from the way that he sang so beautifully, to the gentle brush of his fingers against yours as he taught you piano. the gentleness of his lyrics, the sound of his laughter, the late nights you spent giggling over lyrics and stories, the way he would put you before anyone and anything else.

your first heartbreak was the night of his prom, when he took an older, more mature girl to the dance. but you tried not to think of your fizzled-out crush anymore, having had a fair share of lovers during your years at university. yeonjun was clueless, and he’d never done a thing to suggest that your friendship was anything more than platonic.

‘no, thank you,’ you turned to face the space in front of you, your eyes squinting naturally from the sun. ‘i don’t need a pity invite back into your lives again.’

‘you’re being way dramatic,’ beomgyu laughed. ‘you were the one that left and hadn’t returned in over two years now.’

‘this has nothing to do with you, you jerk!’ you spun around as you stood, glaring at the man in front of you. ‘i don’t care that you think my friends’ entire success is based off your little editing skills! you’re barely an artist if you think switching a few words in my lyrics suggests that you have any form of talent. the world would be much better off without your constant, snarky little comments!’

‘y/n, let’s go,’ yeonjun grabbed your arm in the same way he had the day before, at his house. with his free hand, he grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began pulling it along. ‘and please don’t cause a scene.’

‘i’m not going,’ you turned yourself into an anchor, using all of your strength to keep yourself grounded. of course, yeonjun was much stronger than you would ever be and easily dragged you along. ‘seriously, yeonjun, stop! there’s no way i’m going back to that house to make awkward small talk with people that i used to know!’

the room was pretty silent. you could hear soobin chewing beside you, and the clinking of metal spoons against ceramic bowls as everybody ate their lunch. then a chair scraping that caught your attention, and beomgyu was standing. he placed his bowl on the counter and kicked the chair back into place, before heading up the stairs into his room.

‘so… y/n,’ kai began. you directed your gaze towards him, as he was sitting directly in front of you. ‘are you moving back home permanently?’

‘i’m not sure,’ you answered simply. ‘i graduate in a month, and then i need to start looking for a job.’

‘are we invited to your graduation?’ taehyun pressed, your head whipping around to face him. ‘is that why you came?’

‘i only have enough tickets to take one of you,’ you sighed. ‘i came because i missed you guys and i missed being here.’

‘who are you going to take?’ soobin asked, shooting you an innocent look.

‘obviously me,’ yeonjun interrupted. ‘who else?’

‘yeah… sorry guys,’ you cleared your throat. ‘i’ve just known yeonjun longer, so it makes sense.’

‘no hard feelings, y/n,’ kai smiled.

‘okay… can somebody show me to my room?’ you dropped your spoon into the bowl, sick of the tense feeling in the room.

beomgyu had been fiddling with his guitar for the past fifteen minutes, as you sat picking at your fingernails. it was just you and him left behind at the house, whilst the other four boys were off running personal errands. you’d claimed the living space first, as you were waiting on yeonjun — who promised to be back by now to take you out for dinner — and beomgyu just seemed to want to annoy you with his presence.

‘you’re playing that wrong, you know,’ you spoke. ‘it’s supposed to be soft.’

‘lovesong, right?’ he asked, still strumming quietly. yes, technically, that was the song he was referring to — the one you had named ‘0x1=lovesong’ — except he was playing it more intensely and more angry than intended. ‘beautiful lyrics, but the demo was way too sappy and boring to release.’

‘excuse me?’ you scoffed. ‘that was my favourite song i ever wrote, and the last song i ever wrote.’

‘i can see why,’ he was smirking. ‘have you listened to the official release? there’s a music video too.’

‘no, obviously,’ rolling your eyes, you tried not to get upset. ‘what did you do to it?’

‘made it angsty,’ he shrugged. ‘you know, like an angry, heartbroken kind of sound. changed the title too, because yours was a little lame. we were actually going to ask you to be a feature in the chorus, but we went with an already established artist instead.’

‘i don’t even want to know,’ you closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat. ‘i already feel sick from this whole situation, and you’re just going out of your way to make me feel worse. i’m going up to my room.’

‘the spare room,’ beomgyu corrected. ‘it’s not your room.’

‘what is your problem?’ you snapped. ‘is it your life’s mission to make me feel terrible? you came in here, took my place and the fame that i could have had, and i’m getting punished for it? why, because you feel threatened?’

‘because i don’t like you, y/n,’ he stood, placing his guitar on the couch and towering over you as you were still sitting on the opposite couch. ‘as i recall, you rudely asked yeonjun who ‘the fuck’ i was, and then proceeded to call me an asshole simply because i joined your friends’ band.’

right, you did do that. but it was a heat of the moment thing, and you didn’t actually mean anything by it. still, he only proved your point with his behaviour following your meeting.

‘you provoked me,’ you defended. ‘asking if i was a crazed fan and introducing yourself as my replacement.’

‘geez, it was a joke,’ he rolled his eyes as he stepped away from you and into the kitchen. ‘but your reaction said a lot.’

‘and then he had the audacity to tell me that it was my reaction that caused him to be a huge jerk to me,’ you groaned, lifting your wine glass to your lips and taking another sip. yeonjun nodded between chews. ‘seriously, i can’t stand to even be in the same room as him.’

‘you’ve only known each other for a day,’ he interjected after swallowing. ‘you need to give him a chance.’

‘no, thank you,’ you placed the glass down rather loudly. ‘there’s no way in hell that i’ll ever get close to him… it’s just going to be a long month before i never have to share a living space with him ever again.’

‘that’s true,’ yeonjun stated, although you could tell he had more to say from the way that he leaned over the perfectly white table cloth between you. ‘but it’s not like he’s going to up and leave for your sake. he’s our friend — my friend — and he’s a vital part of our band— a great guitarist and he has a very unique voice that leaves the fans swooning, plus—!’

‘’jun, please,’ you held your hand up to stop him. ‘talking about him like a used car you’re selling on the facebook marketplace isn’t going to make me like him more. sure, he can play guitar, but does he even have the capacity to feel sympathy?’

yeonjun just laughed out loud, reaching for his glass as he fell back into the comfort of his chair, and you smiled. you’ve missed him.

an hour later, beomgyu stopped strumming upon hearing the sound of your laughter. as the door swung open into the common area, he caught sight of you holding onto yeonjun’s bicep for support.

‘and then he just got up and left— oh, hey, beomgyu,’ you straightened up, letting go. ‘uh, goodnight, yeonjun.’

‘who got up and left?’ beomgyu inquired.

‘oh, it’s hilarious,’ yeonjun grinned. ‘this guy who y/n dated— basically, she rejected him but he would not give up— what?’

you were not impressed, and yeonjun caught on quickly. he waved his hand in the air as a dismissal and turned towards the stairs, wishing beomgyu a short goodnight. you shot the latter a tight-lipped smile and followed yeonjun upstairs.

‘goodnight, y/n,’ yeonjun spoke, turned back to face you with his hand reaching for the handle. you smiled and watched him disappear behind the door, to which your smile grew wider and you silently screamed into your hands.

you would have been skipping had everyone else been awake, but you held yourself back and opted for walking calmly down the hallway to your bedroom. the sleep you had turned out to be a lot more peaceful than you had expected, being able to rest easy knowing that you were home, and with yeonjun.

masterlist | next

taglist @stellz581 @fairyofshampgyu @woncheecks @shycreationdreamland @wonioml @baekberrie @wayhome2gyu @strawbrinkofdeath

[miriel-elenna]

Dean didn't expect to make it three years.

Hell, let's be honest, after all the bullshit of his entire life, he hadn't expected to make it to the wedding, a wedding, any wedding. He'd given that dream up years ago, because no one in their right mind would look at Dean Winchester and think, yeap, that's they guy I'm gonna marry.

Lucky for Dean, Cas was crazy. Crazy like a fox. Which worked just fine since Dean wasn't exactly on his rocker either.

Dean was determined to not take any day, any second, for granted. He had plans. Schemes, even. He was gonna rock Cas' socks clear off.

It all started before the sun came up. For once, Dean was the early riser, too excited for the day to sleep too much. The February morning dawned clear and cold as Dean snuck around their house, quietly pulling things out and setting things up.

The breakfast nook was set up just so, the sunny yellow table cloth, flowers in a vase, and a new, leather-bound journal carefully placed beside Cas' plate, a honeycomb decorated pen clipped to the cover.

By the time Cas rolled out of bed, the coffee was already made and the bacon had just finished cooking. Dean poured batter into the Death Star waffle maker, one of their awesomer wedding gifts, as the floorboards creaked, announcing Cas' entrance into the kitchen.

Dean turned around, Cas' coffee mug in his hand, the special one from Jack that only a parent could love. Cas' eyes were still sleepy but soft as he looked at what was waiting for him.

Dean grinned and held out the steaming mug, "Happy anniversary, sweetheart."

Cas smiled and took the mug, taking a slow sip and then setting it down on the counter behind Dean. He reached up and placed his hand on Dean's cheek, drawing Dean into a slow, tender kiss.

"Good morning, my love," Cas said, voice still rough with sleep. They kissed again, impossible to stop at only one. "Happy anniversary," Cas murmured as two kisses turned into three, four, five.

The waffle maker beeped, time and space re-asserting themselves.

"Don't want the waffles to burn," Dean mumbled, before diving in to steal one last kiss from Cas' smiling lips.

Cas hummed and leaned back before Dean could steal another. "Wouldn't want to waste all of your hard work." He grabbed the plate of bacon off of the counter and took it to the table.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled with a grin. "Just save me some of the bacon this time, okay?"

"I make no promises," Cas said around the crunch of smoky, salty, meaty perfection.

"Love you too, asshole," Dean laughed, the sound of Cas' chuckle music in his ears.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch, Dean and Cas trading surprise gifts. When Dean went out to his wood shop to do a little work, soft new work gloves were waiting on his bench. A sturdy leather messenger bag, the White Tree of Gondor worked into the flap, was hanging on the hook by the door, a replacement for Cas' old, threadbare foraging bag. New boots were sitting by the back door when Dean came in for lunch, black and shiny and almost too nice to wear outside. Cas was wearing the belt that Dean had left coiled in the drawer, with that gaudy purple "Cowgirl" belt buckle leftover from their bachelor party, the one that matched the pink buckle stored in Dean's top drawer.

Dean might've had to open that belt up, get down on his knees, and indulge in a little afternoon delight right there in the kitchen. It hadn't been part of the plan but who gave a damn. The sight of Cas above him, panting, eyes closed and face flushed as he came down, was worth a little detour.

Or a long detour. Whatever. It was their anniversary, they could fuck if they wanted.

Dinner was candle-lit, because Dean was a romantic, goddamnit. The pot roast had been braising low and slow for most of the day and Cas had made the best cherry pie that Dean'd ever eaten.

Soon enough they were lazing on the couch, lamplight golden around them, watching the fire in the fireplace flicker and spark.

"I have another present for you," Cas said as his fingers combed slow and lazy through Dean's hair.

"Well ain't that lucky, cause I've got another one for you, too," Dean drawled.

Getting up from the couch was hard, but Dean'd been waiting for weeks to unveil this last gift.

The bundle he pulled out from its secret hidey hole in the back of the closet unfurled into a long leather coat, soft as butter and lined with wool.

"Oh, Dean, it's wonderful," Cas said. He pulled a box out from behind his back and they traded bundles.

Dean set the box down and lifted the lid carefully off. His eyes went wide when he saw what was inside, and he couldn't help bouncing and clapping his hands, just a little.

"Is that what I think it is?" Dean asked, voice a little breathless and a touch giddy.

"I'm afraid I've played right into your cowboy fetish," Cas said with a long-suffering sigh. He reached around Dean and pulled the cowboy hat out and placed it on Dean's head. It fit perfectly. Of course it did.

Cas' arms were secure around Dean's waist and he dropped a kiss on the back of Dean's neck. "I love you, Dean."

Dean turned in his arms and kissed him soundly on the lips. "I love you, too. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

He pulled out of Cas' arms and grabbed his wrist, tugging him urgently toward the bedroom. "Come on, buddy. I've got a cowboy to ride."

Cas groaned, but followed quickly behind him. "I've created a monster."

The hat, of course, stayed on the whole time.

Now posted to AO3 as Three Year Gone

[nervousimposter]

Notes: I am in the works for part 2 on this. I’m thinking of an explicit scene in Steves POV so that should be out in a few days. 

Part two

Everybody knows the picnic table behind the school was for one specific purpose. One purpose ran by one person, and it was by appointment only, thank you very much. Outside of those business hours, the table was to be avoided. And it was. No one went into the woods behind the school unless a meeting was scheduled. Even on those days that a buyer would traverse that one-minute walk through the woods to the table, they would get the goods, pay and immediately leave. They never stayed beyond the 30 second interaction. No one wanted to spend more time than they needed with the super senior ‘Freak’. Capital F required according to some people. 

But it’s fine. Actually, more than fine. It left that portion of school grounds almost always student free. Eddie took advantage of that. Has been taking advantage of it really. His reputation kept all those pesky people from even wanting to step near the woods leading to the table. Which is exactly what he wanted. A place for him to get away. Somewhere he didn’t need to deal with assholes bothering him or a quiet place to scheme his next campaign. That was all he was trying to achieve. His own little fortress of solitude. And that was exactly what it was starting his junior year. Picnic table paradise. Second run through of senior year though. That brought some changes. One change mainly, but that trickled into many. So, so many. 

It started on that first day of school. Alarm was forgotten to be set, rushed through getting ready, yadda yadda yadda. Pretty familiar school morning for Eddie, to be honest. Got to class just as the bell rang so just took the closest available seat. All that trouble only to realize he didn’t have a pencil. So what does he do? Ask the person in front of him for one. And then he’s staring into Steve Harrington’s eyes. His pretty, pretty brown eyes. And that's where it all started. Pencil favors led to casual conversations which led to services exchanged which led to meeting at the table behind the school. All pretty standard when it came to getting customers for Eddie. But Steve wasn’t like the rest of the student body. He didn’t just grab his goods and go. He sat down. He sat and talked. Not only did he stay during those appointments, he showed up outside of them. Sometimes Eddie would get to the table and Steve would already be there. Eddie was fucked. Royally, royally fucked. 

He held out for five months. The first two were because Steve was in a very committed relationship with Wheeler and seemingly VERY straight. The next three after that was because Steve was clearly heartbroken over whatever happened to him over Halloween and was still seemingly VERY straight. But then came that auspicious day mid-January. A, at this point, regular meet up at the picnic table to shoot the shit had them leaning against each other laughing at something he can’t even remember anymore. The kind of laughter that would end only to start again when they made eye contact. In the lull of comfortable silence after their fit, both of them just trying to catch their breath, Steve turned towards him and grabbed his face. Cradled it, really. Big warm hands just bracketing his cheeks and holding him still as his eyes trailed across his face before landing on his lips. Asking without asking. And of course Eddie kissed him. Kissed him absolutely silly. And that was a month ago. A whole month now of daily picnic table meetups. The picnic table that no one goes to without appointments. Fortress of solitude. Picnic table paradise. Aptly named now that Steve Harrington was involved.

[amongthe141]

The Giver - Chapter 1

By: @amongthe141

Fandom: Call of Duty Video Game

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Y/N female reader, John Price, Frank Woods, more 141 to follow

Tags: Slow burn, Captain John Price x fem!reader, first ever shared writing...eek, sorry for grammar or lack of edits I tried, starts 2019 remake universe, yes I made Frank Woods look like a Santa and not sorry, w

Summary: Y/N is introduced to Captain John Price via Frank Woods and Y/N's life is about to become...more complicated.

Words: 1586

The knock on the door should have been promptly replied back with a bark somewhere to the tune of "...the hell you want" from the eighty some old senior man purposely sitting within the walls of his room in isolation.  Whether it was for peace or reliving of fading memories but in the case of Retired Master Sergeant Frank Woods it was more likely choosing to avoid the realization that he was old when the other residents and staff constantly make one such has himself remember it on the daily.  There were those who Woods allowed acceptance to enter freely…the evolution of his bark differs greatly from the first day he resided to now…the bark wasn’t so much as a bite if it was one of the favored few, which Y/N could be counted as one of them, if not the top tier of them.  It wasn’t an easy achievement but one with a bit of patience and a bit of stubbornness Y/N was able to conquer.  It also helped that Y/N and Woods were the troublemakers under this roof when they set their minds to it.  This is why the absence of this familiar greeting put her on edge and her breathing hitched in concern.  

The next group of knocks were louder, though knocking loud was always a must for any resident under this household because their hearing is shit if they were normal  but they weren't. These men who lived here at this privatized retirement home had extra damage to their ears from enemy explosions, recanting to  Y/N's ears in downtime storytelling or reasoning as to why their screams would wake her up at night from constant night terrors. So this last extra loud knock on Frank Woods door should have had him absolutely hysterical at her even to somewhere deep down finding superpowers to strengthen his bad knees to walk out of his bound chair to rock across his room to open the door to relay such hysterics. But as the seconds ticked and still no reply a moment of fear hit her hard. Many veterans had passed in their sleep here, death was an all too familiar experience since Y/N started five years ago, but she wasn't ready for the stubborn old man that lived to prove what a grumpy old man should be, nor one who relished in the delight of being called an asshole. She would never admit it but he was her favorite person in the converted old Victorian house they called home and Y/N wasn't ready to say an early goodbye or any goodbyes at all. 

Pushing through her fear, the dark stained door opened with an eerie scream from its hinges as the room came to life as the soft glows from the afternoon sun seeped through the countless windows. The same dark stain of the door flowed adjacent to the corners where ceiling and walls and floors  met in this cream colored room that belonged to Woods. Military flags stretched on the walls here and there  as if it was some piece of classic art.  Photos littered in frames or lay about every surface of Frank Wood’s room where there were hardly any surfaces left,  unlike the floor which he needed ample space for his wheelchair to get by. The faces that stared at her back, some she knew of from when Frank allowed himself to tell her tid bits from his past, others were of the younger Frank, a more dangerous yet addictive Woods who didn't give five fucks and would do as he pleased. 

Y/N could see herself getting in trouble with a younger Frank, she already did with the senior version ever since he first stepped within these hallowed halls (yes, he was a younger old man then… too proud to submit as the new guy lifebound eventually for his wheelchair) into the retirement house with other old geezers (his words at the beginning, not Y/Ns, never hers). 

Y/N had been in this room a million times, could tell you where everything was and should be, but in the first moments of entering  her fear made it all seem like a stranger's room instead as her eyes reluctantly stared at the empty but made up bed. One area cleared but…, what if he fell off the bed and was behind it? A sigh from Y/N released as again another spot cleared after as she approached closer to the bed to see to the other side. Y/N shifted the large ice bucket in her grasp as carrying the terror of finding him dead in the room subsided. Before asking "but where the hell was he" a coughing fit of laughter snuck in like a cool breeze from the screened door and she allowed herself to smile a silly smile as she shook her head, the bottles in the bucket clinking against each other as if rejoiced the location was given away to where a very live and fiery Woods would be. Y/N quickly crossed across the room and  pushed through  the reluctant screaming screen door that led out to the covered patio with her free hip,  she couldn't help but  tilt her head as she stared at Woods and his unexpected guest.

"Y/N!" Frank mustered to say when he was able to speak instead of cackle (it's what Y/N used to describe the coughing fits most life smokers end up getting) "Where the hell have you been?"

"Working very hard apparently being your bar wench" she said playfully as she went about carefully placing the basket of chilled beer on the table between Woods and his guest, who stood up as a bulky tower over the two of them to help her set it down very gentlemanly…probably a beer enthusiast as Woods where no drop of spilt beer should fall! He waited for Y/N to lean against the arm of the only free chair before sitting back down "Well this is certainly unexpected".

It wasn't till he spoke did she actually make eye contact with this man. Maybe it was the British accent that gave it clearly away that he wasn't a relation to Woods (as if any did visit if there were any) , perhaps the mutton chops of a beard adorning his face peppered with graying and light patches of hair teasing his age, or perhaps the beanie that bound his hair underneath…Y/N stopped processing every little detail of the man in her brain to jumpstart the point that his clear ocean blue eyes had her hooked, lined, and smitten and very much addicted instantly. Woods leaned over and passed him a cold one before jabbing one at Y/N’s closest though before taking his own, breaking her concentration on purpose but more likely for the urgency to enjoy a cold one.  

Y/N smiled before twisting the cap off as Woods unceremoniously hit the cap off the side of the wheelchair’s many metal perks, deeping the dent. "What can I say, privatized retirement houses do come with perks" Woods said before downing half the bottle and then nonchalantly introducing "Y/N meet Captain John Price". 

Y/N was greeted with a "Pleasure" and courteous nod with a non-mistaken smirk surrounded by his beard before he continued "When you said Woods you were in a private home, let alone a Veteran one, I indeed was not expecting this to be so…" "Homely". "Exactly".

"Thank you, when my Aunt inherited this place she didn't want it to be a place someone couldn't call home. Most other retirement homes are too hospital-like and…" "Cold". Y/N couldn't help but smile wide at them completing each other’s thoughts, "Exactly. Most have to come to retirement homes involuntarily, if bringing a bucket of cold beer helps then that's what we do." Y/N explained after more small inquiries came from Price that there were 6 other residents at the house. The staff was there 24/7 by shifts or by personal employment by the resident but Y/N was the only other person who resided there full time with her Aunt. "Life functions as a normal everyday household besides the times I get to boss this guy around" Wood’s playful eye roll earns him laugh before Y/N continues. "We make sure everyone makes their appointments, gets their meds, therapy, etc."

"Reliable and recommendable" Price said almost in a prideful tone before Woods snorted "More like lucky. VA benefits and regulations nowadays are death sentences to places like this. You won't be able to find this when you're my age for military men like us, for what we do!" Those words pulled every scar and blemish on Price to Y/Ns eyesight immediately. She's seen them hundred times over on the Veterans who have come and gone. The war battle scars they took home and relive most nights. "I better enjoy it then when I can aye?" A known silence is shared between the men as Woods nods in answer. 

"Well I better go check on things and leave you two at it. Anything needed before I go?" "No, not at this time". "Well if you do, Woods will make sure we know" and she did the same thing she's done a hundred times over with her favorite grumpy old man, no matter the state he was in, it always calmed and reassured him, with that gentle and soft squeeze of her hand on his shoulder incase it was ever the last time to do it. Y/N just didn't know how soon that time was nearing. 

[awesomerextyphoon]

In From the Cold

Summary: Bucky comes home with little friend he found on a cold winter night. 

Pairing: Bucky x Black Female Reader 

Rating: 16/Teen

Word Count 1.2K

A/N: Some of the words are in Igbo with translation. Thanks to @mrsmischief209​ for the beta!

Back to Masterlist

“I hope Bucky gets back soon. The food’s getting cold,” your worried eyes spied the clock as thick flurries of snow blanketed the ground. 

“Don’t worry Mommy!” your daughter, Obioma, reassured you from the dinner table, “Daddy will be back soon! We aren’t being chased by bad men anymore!” 

“I know, I know Oma Nwam (dear),” you murmured as you kissed your daughter’s forehead, “It’s just that I worry.” 

And who could blame you? 

Ever since you met James three years ago, people have been after you. 

It started when you wanted to go to Trader Joe’s for movie snacks. You wanted to reward yourself for a grueling week of work and for picking up your co-workers slack again. The bright red of the store sign graced your skin when you heard a blast. 

The vestiges of HYDRA was looking for their Winter Soldier and they were done being tactful. 

Everything was a flurry of reds, oranges, yellows, and black as people ran for shelter. You almost vomited when you saw a man get sliced in half by falling debris. 

You plummeted to the ground after get the wind knocked out of you by the frantic crowd of panicked civilians. Closing your eyes in defeat, you waited for Death’s sweet embrace. But it never came. Instead, strong arms carried you to safety. 

You were saved by an angel who insists on being called otherwise. Though he did accept your offer to bum off your couch for a few days. 

Soon you realized that the Adonis who saved you was the one and only Bucky Barnes. You giggled at his bashful expression when you called him out on it. Here’s a man who battled against Captain America on equal footing, but couldn’t look you in the eye at a small question. 

It didn’t take long for the two of you to become friends in between running from HYDRA, Secret US Government Organizations, and assholes who wanted his vibranium arm. 

–––––

The first kiss came as an accident. 

You were watching Lily & Stitch and Bucky was having a moment connecting to Stitch and you to Lilo. 

Bucky turned to you and wondered,“Do you think…I could change? Become a better person?”

You frowned at the tears welling up in his eyes. Here was a man who was nearly abandoned as POW experiment by his nation in during WW2 before being saved by his friend. A man who then was mind raped for nearly TWENTY YEARS until those fucking dobbers got their ‘fist’. A man who was trapped in his own mind for decades committing unspeakable crimes against humanity and the planet for the powers who wanted to ‘guide the people’. A man who never got to say goodbye to his loved ones robbed of nearly every chance to find peace. 

A man who despite everything he’s been through, he still wants do good and protect others. 

“Bucky, you are so much more than what HYDRA made you. You’re my angel,” you declared as you went in to kiss him on the cheek. 

––––

It took about two months of Sam and Nat ribbing both of you for being idiots to start dating. Barely two dates in and Steve caught you making out in the car like a couple of horny teenagers. 

Sam got a picture of it and sent it to Natasha. 

You gave birth to Obioma eight months later. 

A few months after giving birth to your beautiful baby girl, the US Gov’t finally backed off when Nat threatened to dump info on several redacted projects to the public. 

For the first time in nearly a century, Bucky was at peace. 

Then your daughter started walking at five months and talking at seven. Plus she crushed a hard plastic toy in her chubby little hands which caused your anxiety to spike for a bout two seconds before remembering Nat strong-armed the US Gov’t into getting off your backs.

––––

“Mommy! Mommy!” Obioma exclaimed, running to the front door, “Daddy’s home!” 

“Hello sunshine!”, Bucky picked up his adorable daughter,” How was your day?” 

“I went to Aunty Nat’s place for playtime and to make cookies! Then I went to Uncle Bruce for studying and met his cousin Jennifer!” 

“You met his cousin Jennifer? What was she like?”

“She’s really nice and fun! Plus, she taught me how to get out of taking a quiz!” Obioma jumped out her Nnam’s (dad’s) embrace bouncing up and down with unrestrained glee. 

“What did she say?” 

“She said to get Auntie Nat-“ 

“She said to get Nat to talk to Bruce in a closet.” You interrupted not wanting a repeat of this afternoon. You had a quick sidebar with cousin Jen. 

“Huh.” 

“Hey Daddy, what’s in your jacket?” Obioma stopped jumping long enough to notice the small lump near the top Bucky’s jacket. 

“Well sunshine,” Bucky knelt in front of the toddler,”This little one,” He slowly unzipped his jacket,”was lost and decided to give our family a chance.” 

Bucky unfurled his large hands to reveal,”Is that a snowball, Daddy?” 

“No Oma,” you giggled,”It’s a kitten.” 

You didn’t know what to make of the next few minutes. Your little Oma backed away from Bucky, afraid of hurting the kitten. 

No doubt she’s heard some of the slander peddled by sad, pathetic mothers with way too much time on their hands. 

She took on step out to your husband and the pure white ball of fur terrified of hurting the little ball of fur. 

“It’s okay, Sunshine,”Bucky coaxed with an outstretched hand,”Come and say Hello.” 

Obioma carefully stretched out her chubby little hand to pet the tiny kitty. 

Her eyes widened with joy when the tiny feline crept into her hands. You were able to sneak in a pic for Nat.

“Where did you find her James?”

Bucky pulled the kitten and his Sunshine into his arms,“I was walking home when a heard a ruckus a few blocks away. Turns out some punks ganged up on this little one.” 

“Oh no! Poor Kitty!” Obioma exclaimed with tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 

“I know, sunshine,”Bucky mumbled into her forehead wiping away her tears, “But this little one was so brave! She refused to back down, but she needed a little help. So I walked up to them and they ran off. Then she ran up to my shoulder like a tree, or a mountain.”

“A mountain?” 

“Yes, Sunshine. Poor little kitty was scared. Probably the first time anyone’s helped her.”

“Can she stay with us, Daddy?” 

Bucky flashed you his ‘playful DILF smile’, “I dunno. It’s gonna be a lot of responsibility taking care of her.”

“Pwlease!” Your daughter flashed the Puppy Dog Eyes and Pout guaranteeing her victory. Both of you have a hard time saying no to her as it is. 

“Alright, Oma,” Bucky passed your daughter to you awaiting arms,”What do you want to call our travel little kitty?” 

“Um, Auntie Nat talked about the Awlps at story time. Mommy, what was the word she used?” 

“Alpine, Nwam.” 

“Alpine!” 

“Alpine it is!” Bucky declared before rubbing his nose against Obioma’s.

“Well, now that we have welcomed our newest member to the family, let’s go eat. The food’s getting cold.” 

“Yay!” Obioma ran to the dining room. 

–––

“My kind angel saved a kitty this evening. That deserves a reward,”You whispered leaning to kiss Bucky only for you to jerk your head , “But, you didn’t call and we were so worried.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

“I know, I know. I wonder how I’ll reward you?” 

Bucky chuckled and kissed your neck,”I’ll think of something.” 

[dbnightingale24]

A Dream Worth Chasing

Sneak Peek

~~

Laurie’s P.O.V.

“Andy, can you stop packing for five fucking minutes?!” I sob as he continues to load his clothes into his duffle bag.

“Laurie, I’ve told you multiple times that I’m done, and you won’t fucking hear it. I don’t know what else to do,” he shrugs, a look of pure indifference on his face.

“Andy-”

“You’re the one that cheated. Without saying it out loud, you decided that you don’t want this anymore. You don’t want us. So, I’m moving on. I’ve moved on!”

“Andy, no. You think you’ve moved on, but you’re just-”

“Laurie, I don’t love you. I have no desire to work this out, and I never will again. Please, just let it go and sign the goddamn papers!”

“You just need time,” I sob as he throws up his hands and scowls.

That’s what he used to say to me all the time, and it always worked like a charm; he could always bring me back. However, now? It seems like a lie. I’ve been using the same line for practically a year, and for what? The more I say it, the less he wants me.

Maybe that’s difference. He was fighting for someone who he truly loved, and somewhere deep inside, I loved him back. Now? I’ve pushed him away so much that he truly is finished with all of this, but now I finally wanna come back.

I finally see what’s worth fighting for.

“Where are you even living now?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m gone for good, and you need to sign the damn papers.”

“You don’t need to be so cold!”

“That seems to be the only way that you’ll respond,” he huffs before closing his bag. “Laurie, at one point, we were lovers and best friends. We have Jacob. I don’t want this to get ugly, so please don’t let it get to that point. He’s moving out, we both know he’s gonna propose to Sarah sooner or later, and you and I both know that we’ve run our course. You can have the house, the cars, you can paint me as the bad guy. I truly don’t care. Please, just let me go.”

“Andy, please, lets just go away-”

“I don’t want to go away!” he finally snaps, causing me to jump just a bit.

Hes never been this way with me.

“Laurie,” he sighs dropping his bag, clearly frustrated and worn out “don’t make me be this guy. The angry husband who has to be an asshole. I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to upset you, and I don’t want either of us to hate each other. After all is said and done, I still want us to at least be able to have some sort of healthy relationship. It doesn’t have to be something fueled by hate and anger, it can be amicable. I don’t hate you, Laurie, I just don’t love you anymore,” he sighs before picking up his bag. “Think about it, I’ll see you in a few days.”

As he walks away I can’t help but think back to college. Was this all my fault? He never pursued me, I always wanted him.

He never looked for me, I always looked for him.

“You came!” I beamed as the handsome brunette came walking into my dorm room.

“You made it sound like I’d be missing out on something big if I show up,” he chuckled with a bright smile.

I’d been daydreaming about the smile since I first saw it two weeks ago in the campus library.

“You didn’t bring anyone?” I asked, hopeful that I wasn’t about to make myself look like a complete fool.

“No one to bring. I spend most of my time studying or working. That’s why I decided maybe it would be nice to go to a party. Thanks for invitin’ me.”

“Thanks for showing up,” I replied, and I could tell my cheeks were burning red.

From that day on, I looked for him, I waited for him, and I tried to come up with any reason to talk to him, until he finally asked me out. At first, it was exciting and I was enamored with you. Then, after about five months, I started to get lazy and he took notice. It’s not even that I stopped loving him, but I realized I wanted to be young and experience college as a single woman. Neither of us said a thing about it, but I could tell he knew and that I’d hurt him.

Then I started seeing him hanging around with some girl and it made my blood boil.

He was mine.

So, I showed up at his dorm one day and when he opened the door, I practically pounced on him, and of course he didn’t say no. Of course, my little impulsive act ended up with me pregnant, and he was a saint about it. Why wouldn’t he be?

Andy is the sweetest soul on earth; he always has been.

Everything was perfect for a while. Even with school being as demanding as it was, Andy was a loving and doting father. I wasn’t surprised that he proposed, and I was more than happy to say yes. I wanted nothing more than to devote myself to him forever.

For a while, it was perfect. We had the perfect life. Sure, I looked at other men sometimes, just wondering what it would be like to have the freedom to do whatever I wanted, but I never acted on anything. I had a good life, why mess it up?

Then, Jacob’s trial.

Even after everything that happened; the arguments, the trial, the sleeping in separate rooms...the accident...he still treated me like I was the center of his universe, and loved me unconditionally.

But I felt betrayed.

How could he not tell me about his father? Yeah, it’s his life and he’s allowed his secrets, but I’m his wife! So, after all was said and done, even with him being as amazing as he was, I still cheated. I cheated because I wanted him to feel as betrayed as I did. I seduced his best friend, best man at our wedding, and fucked him in the backseat of our car. It should’ve been quick and dirty, but I fucked up and let it turn into something that it should’ve never been.

It was nice to feel like I was a priority, to feel beautiful, and just get away from the weight that now comes with being a Barber. The flowers, gifts, then sneaking...it all felt new and exciting. I felt young again.

Andy started to notice of how distant I was becoming and offered to take me  on a trip, or pay for me to go on my own trip, and that’s when the guilt set in. I was out being the world’s worst wife, and he was still trying to take care of me. So, I broke off the relationship and came clean to Andy.

He didn’t even say a word, and to be honest, he didn’t need to. The look in his eyes told me everything. I had crushed him and instantly felt terrible. I was so ready for him to demand a divorce, and a small part of me wanted him to, but he just stormed out and spent the rest of the night driving around. Of course, Andy being the amazing man he is, came back in the morning and told me he loved me and wanted to work it out.

That should’ve been enough for me and I should’ve been happy, but of course I wasn’t. I dug my nails in and did my best to make sure that no one would ever be able to steal him from me, including making sure he never met Y/N. Of course, I’m the one that made the mess, and it was obvious that she’d done nothing wrong, but still. Enough people talk and word gets around. It was irrational, mean, and dumb, but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

All my hard work and it did nothing.

Yeah, I messed everything up out of pure fear and jealousy, but it was nowhere near as bad as the last time. I knew it pushed him to his wits end, but it’s something I know we can make our way back from it.

But now? After that dinner for Jacob and Sarah?

God, the way he looked at her that night? Is she the one he’s in love with? No, she can’t be. It’s just not possible. He wouldn’t do that to Jacob, and she’s so damn young. 24? 25? He’d never go for someone her age.

No, whoever has his attention...I can fix it. I can make it right and do better this time. I know it took me forever to realize it, but I truly do love Andy, and I’ll do anything I can to prove that to him.

I can fix this.

~~

taglist: @fuckingbye, @maroonsunrise83, @whxre4cevans, @autumnrose40, @greeneyedblondie44, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, @pono-pura-vida, @nomadstucky, @companionjones, @yiiiikesmish, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters, @liecastillo, 

[corporatefrog]

↳˗ˏˋ loose change ˊˎ˗ ↴

level 3 - nightmare fuel

featuring: yn getting a rude awakening from Liane's son

notes: get ready for lots of cartman slander. he makes it too easy

series masterlist

previous level | next level

In my dream, the world was bright with life.

I rode through the fields of Hyrule with the wind rushing past my ears, making the fabric of my loose tonic ripple like a green flag. A triangle glowed gold on the back of my hand. The mark filled me with courage for the difficult trials ahead.

In the distance, Death Mountain rumbled as a cloud of volcanic dust burst into the air. 

To my right, a group of Zora leapt up a waterfall with a gorgeous grace. 

Everything was peaceful. 

Everything was perfect. 

“Oh HELL naw.” 

The ground began to shake as a voice echoed across the planes. Death Mountain continued to rumble, the once standard noise becoming aggressive. Volcanic rocks flew into the air as the mountain began to abrupt. The Zora were thrust from the waterfall as the quaking grew more intense.

“Mam, I get you’re lonely and sad and depressed but YOU CAN’T RENT OUT MY ROOM!” The voice bellowed, pushing against my skin like the wind of a tornado.

Thunderous thumps vibrated through the ground like invisible steps imprinting giant feet into the earth, seeming to sprint in my direction as the noise grew louder until everything burst into a bright light.

Outside the dream, the bedroom door burst open. The slam of the doorknob against the wall cut through the silence of my sleep. I felt myself get ripped from Hyrule and thrust back into South Park like a newborn, gasping for air as my eyes shot open. I sat up in the bed and looked towards the door where the sound which startled me came from. 

“What happen- where…” I sputtered through the delirium of being between sleep and awake.

A man stood in the open doorway, pudgy face twisted in an expression of furious disgust as his hand gripped the doorknob with white knuckles. Labored breaths looked nearly like steam as he huffed and puffed from the other side of the room. On his head sat a familiar blue hat with a yellow puffball I’d seen in the picture hanging on the wall downstairs. Brown hair peaked out from underneath the hat and stuck to his forehead as though the act of rushing up the stairs had been a tiring task. 

“Oh hells naw. You need to leave now.” He declared, pointing out of the door with his other hand. 

—

Name: Eric Cartman

Age: 22

Status: New Business Owner, Old Asshole

Fun Fact: This is the third business Eric has tried to start this year. Hopefully it’ll stick so his mom doesn’t have to take out another mortgage on the house to pay his rent.

—

Still half-asleep, I tried to rub the bleary filter out of my eyes to see the man more clearly. What the fuck is going on? 

We’re getting evicted a few hours after we moved in. Very on brand for us. 

“Eric, no! You are not kicking out our guest.” Liane’s voice joined the fray as she appeared in the doorway. 

“But mam.” Eric whined, “They’re in my bed and this is my room!”

“You told me you never wanted to sleep in this ‘stupid, gay ass’ room ever again when you moved. And that was almost a year ago!” Liane protested, “Now get back downstairs. We can talk about this in another room.” 

Eric didn’t budge from his spot in the doorway. If looks could kill, I’d be burned to a crisp. My senses began to return as the room came into full focus. The digital clock on the nightstand showed 11:49 in bright red LED. I’d gotten about three hours of sleep but it only felt like five minutes. 

I met Eric’s gaze, trying not to flinch from the intensity of his glare. Liane continued to try and coax him out of the room with promises of various rewards but Eric stood firm. I guess I was right about her son being an asshole. 

I wasn’t sure of what to do at this point. I was sitting in a stranger’s bed with said stranger standing in the doorway clearly unhappy about it with my face still puffy from sleep. 

I need to use the bathroom. 

Choosing the instinctual urge over the potential stressor of trying to talk to this man, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. I raised my hands to the ceiling in a stretch with a loud yawn echoing through the room. I started to walk to the doorway, not acknowledging the raging bull standing in my way. 

“Morning, Liane.” I mumbled, voice raspy from sleep.

“Who the fuck do you think you are-” Eric started, changing tone when I turned sideways and slid past him, making my way to the bathroom across the hall. “HEY! Don’t you ignore me!” He shouted, following behind me with spit flying out of his mouth. 

Do you have a deathwish?

No, I just need to take a piss. I’ll deal with him after or something. 

“That’s my bathroom! You can’t just walk around here like you own the place-”

I shut the bathroom door in Eric’s face, muffling his complaints. He continued to shout at me but didn’t try to enter. Looks like he’s just someone that likes to be a little bitch and make a scene. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips at the realization. Anyone who’s that cruel to Liane has to be an asshole anyway. 

The bathroom was pretty large for a two bedroom house with a fuzzy rug running alongside the sink. My toes sunk into the tassels and the sudden change in texture woke up my senses. A few charms sat on the windowsill next to the toilet. An air freshener with a similar smell to the rest of the house and a little rubber duck with a cowboy hat. 

“You better enjoy that shit because it’s the last one you’ll take in this house!” Eric threatened. I could see the shadow of his feet under the door meaning he stood directly outside the bathroom waiting for me to leave.

It may be too early to begin hating someone so vehemently but something about Eric just boiled my blood. He continued to shout through the bathroom door as I went about my morning business. I waited for him to finish the current string of complaints before opening the door. 

Eric’s face had turned bright red from the shouting. I could see Liane over his shoulder, still trying to calm the raging bull that blocked my way. 

Let’s just get this over with. 

With a flat expression on my face, I met Eric’s gaze, not shying away from his harsh stare. He returned the glare with force as if daring me to act. 

“Get out of my house. You will respect my authority.” He spat, a droplet of spit landing on my cheek. I held back the urge to laugh at how he pronounced ‘authority’. Who the fuck taught this kid how to speak? 

I raised a hand to his forehead, flicking Eric above the bridge of his nose. Instantly, he stumbled back with an aghast expression. His mouth hung open in a silent gasp with his hands clutching his forehead as though he’d been shot. We stood staring at each other for a moment, sizing up our opponent in the hallway of this small house. 

Eric’s expression changed, eye crinkling as an exaggerated frown pulled at his lips. A high pitched cry emanated from his mouth like an emergency siren. He began to cry to Liane, words intelligible through his crocodile tears. Liane rushed to his side, consoling him with soft words and promises of ice cream. She herded him towards the stairs, flashing me an apologetic smile over her shoulder as she led the crying boy out of the hall. 

So my landlord isn’t mad I flicked her son on the forehead? 

Serves him right. He was a little bitch for sure. 

I stood in the now empty hallway. Eric’s cries echoed up the stairs but he seemed to have calmed down a bit from the initial wail. How does a grown man cry like a 6 year old? It would be impressive if he didn’t annoy me so much. 

Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, I looked around the hallway aimlessly. What should I do now? I was far too awake to go back to sleep but the thought of starting my networking search sounded like a slow, fiery, death. I walked back into Eric’s room- my room- with my feet dragging against the carpet.

The comotion had woken up my mind but my body still seemed dragged by tiredness. The alarm clock read 11:57 meaning the war of the bedroom had only lasted twelve minutes. I’m sure Eric wouldn’t like to know that I kicked his ass in less than fifteen minutes. 

But it would feel so good to tell him just to piss him off. 

Being tired makes the hater in me so much stronger.

A yawn stretched my mouth as I scratched an itchy spot on my back. It was too early to do work but too late to go back to sleep. What was a young professional with too much time on their hands to do? 

I could definitely use some coffee. 

The idea popped into my mind accompanied by the rush of serotonin that an iced coffee would definitely bring me. I could sit in a local cafe and read a book! Or just people watch and get accustomed to the new town! The possibilities invigorated me enough to find an outfit in my suitcase and quickly change, putting any necessities into a tote bag before I left my room. 

When I walked downstairs, Eric was gone. Liane had returned to her spot on the couch. A pair of knitting needles sat in her hands and the ends of what looked to be a blanket trailed across her legs. She turned when she heard me coming down the stairs. 

“Oh, yn! I thought you’d go back to bed.” 

I shrugged, adjusting the tote strap on my shoulder, “Once my mind is awake, I’m stuck up until it decides to shut off for the night. I was just going to get some coffee.” 

Liane nodded, “That sounds perfect! I’d recommend Tweek Bros Coffee on Newton St, they’re a local favorite. Oh, also,” she put down her knitting to face me fully, “I’m sorry about Eric. He was so adamant about moving out and he hadn’t visited in the past few months for more than dinner so I thought you’d be alright in that room. It seems I was wrong about that.” 

A breath caught in my throat. Am I seriously getting evicted on my first day?

Noticing my change in expression, she quickly continued with hands held out towards me, “Not to say that you aren’t able to stay! You’ve been such a delight to email with before and it’s been wonderful to meet you so I refuse to let someone so kind be without a place to stay. Eric will just have to wait until your trip has finished if he wishes to come back to his room.” 

I let out a relieved sigh, hand raising over my heart. Getting kicked out of this room probably would’ve killed me. I looked back at Liane to return the assurance. 

“It’s all good, Liane. I’ve met a few people like Eric in my life and I understand the hassle of it at times. He’s no bother to me at all. Thank you again for having me!” I gave a small curtsy at the end. 

Why the fuck did you just curtsey?

It felt like the right thing to do in the moment.

Well you looked like a fucking idiot in the moment.

If Liane noticed the action, she didn’t acknowledge it. She instead nodded at my words, “Yes, that’s right, he’s always been a bit needy but he’ll always be my boy. But you won’t need to worry about him while you’re staying here!” She said with a smile.

I returned the smile, “He’s no worry at all, Liane. I’ve handled much worse than him, believe me. But I appreciate it nonetheless.” We shared a silent look, finishing the conversation with a quick nod to each other before returning to our previous activities. Liane picked up her knitting once again and I turned to exit the house. 

A brisk breeze brushed my face as I exited the house. I took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of clean air in my lungs. The sun shone down on the street from a clear blue sky, washing out the brightly colored houses along the street with its light. No one walked alongside the street or drove in a car, leaving the block peaceful and still. Another breeze brushed the green grass and shook the dandelions which weaseled their way out of the ground. As rambunctious as the last hour had been, I couldn’t help but be glad for waking up so that I could enjoy this one moment of peace. 

Taking a last glance at the street I’d now call home for the next few months, I headed over to my car and set my GPS for Tweek Bros Coffee. Trying the local iced coffee sounds like the perfect way to begin my exploration of South Park.

I wish I’d known that it would be my last quiet moment for a while. I would’ve stood there for a moment longer. 

taglist [reply to be added]:@n0tangeliccc , @valstarroz , @kenanonsthoughts , @axteroiid , @hand-writxen , @that-kid-fromtheplayground  , @woahnotmecryingoverafanfiction, @h3artilly, @sula0kin, @ryenwritess

[kiwiana-writes]

hellooooooo MJ! while I await your return to the future times, please allow me to tell you just how goddamn fucking talented you are ❤️

can you please tell us about the first time you dyed your hair and what colour you did, how you styled it etc??

I’ve been back in the future for a whole 28 hours, but my body hasn’t quite got the memo yet, hence the stupidly early (for me) reply to this ask.

Stop being nice to me, what the fuck. I will NOT allow this. You’ve seen the behind the scenes now; you know it’s all smoke and mirrors 😂

I have been dyeing my hair since I was 11! Literally two thirds of my life. My husband of a decade has only ever seen my natural hair colour at the root because these days I shave my head every four weeks and re-dye it 😅 BUT you’re not asking about now, you’re asking about when I started!

So, yeah. I was eleven, which I know seems wildly young, but my mum struck the deal with me early: I could dye my hair whatever nonsense I wanted, and get whatever piercings I wanted, as long as I didn’t get any tattoos until I was eighteen. Which I am WILDLY grateful for now, because I wanted some tacky-ass ink at fifteen/sixteen. (We did end up negotiating one tattoo at seventeen but that’s because my uncle died and I wanted his initials lol. No regrets about that one.)

Anyway! I started dyeing my hair because I was ginger as fuck and kids are assholes. (This was like… 2001. The Southpark ‘ginger kids have no soul’ ep came out while I was in high school. You’ll be shocked to hear it was also not a supportive environment for baby queer MJ either 😂) And because it was literally twenty-fucking-two years ago, I don't remember what colour it was; some sort of box something, probably just like a basic chestnut hahaha. I had long hair then -- I grew it out until it was down to my hips when I was like 16 and then I had a tantrum and hacked it off into a bob and dyed it a like purpley-black -- so I doubt I styled it or anything.

If you're curious about the bright colours I live in now, that didn't start permanently until I was 25-ish. I went through a pretty extensive goth/punk phase as a teenager so through the back half of school it was always blue-black or red-black or purple-black, those blacks that have a hint of something else in the light. I'd occasionally do bright colours in a very temporary way, those wash out in 2-3 wash spray type things, for like, school sports days and shit, or I'd do bright red streaks or dip dyes or similar (it was the early 2000s shut up). Then after I left school I was working for the government or adjacent for a long time, and they had lots of "natural colours only" rules so I stuck to the chestnuts and the chocolate browns. Then I changed government departments and mentioned this in passing to my boss, in a "ugh wish I could" kinda way, and she was like "that rule is stupid and you're a great employee and I'll back you up if necessary". So... I went and brought two different bright blues and mixed them together and bleached and dyed my hair that weekend. Rocked up to work on Monday and she just high-fived me.

Nothing that's been on my head since is a colour you'll see naturally growing out of someone's head 🤣

It used to be a whole production of stripping out the old dye when I wanted to change colours, but I started rocking the buzz cut a few years ago and now it doesn't matter what was on there before, it's all gone and I can start again from scratch lol. Weirdly, when I shave my head these days the roots come in REALLY dark brown, so idk if my hair colour has shifted over the hairs (when I was born my hair was BLACK, by the time I was 3 it was blonde ringlets, then settled into ginger by the time I started school) or if I would just have dark roots and if I let it grow out it would still be ginger when it was longer... but I fucking love the buzzcut for Gender Euphoria reasons and also Oh God My Hair Is So Thick And Heavy reasons, so... we'll probably never find out 😜

[mariamariquinha]

Bossa Nova (Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x f!reader) - Five

Four | Six

Summary: DMs, drinks and emojis. 

Word count: 3.235.

Warnings: Bad words, a pinch of flirting, a slight mention of a crime scene, alcohol consumption and uuuh... Yeah? I guess that’s it.

Author’s Note: This came by an idea I had a few days ago 😂 There’s a lot of dialogue through DMs so I hope it works.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

****

Listen, it wasn’t like you were searching, okay?

Although Benny had caught your attention for more than obvious reasons, he was the type to do things around the edges, diligently, which you respected. There was a readiness to him, something that made him understand when to take certain actions, which included not invading your space or being a complete asshole. Again, you respected it. And even if he continued the discrete ploy of keeping aloof in the days that followed, you wouldn't mind creating a friendly relationship with him. Nothing else.

Thing is that Benny piqued your interest – more than you would like to. And if he already followed you on Instagram and you already followed him back was a pure friendly retribution, after all, you two worked together.

Like you, he had a few hundred followers – Benny with 547, you with 326. Maybe you took a look unpretentiously one day, but that wasn’t the point. Your virtual presence was pretty vague, so it was never important to you. There were some videos of karaoke nights, photos at events, old high school memories and a few pictures of your New Year’s Eve in Massachusetts; the only considerable time you’d spent with your college friends for celebrations. His social media followed the same pattern, but he seemed more reserved.

Was it a kind of modern approach, as the Buzzfeed articles said? Liking photos, comments, sending posts the person might like? This just didn't look like Benny's style, he seemed to be traditional enough or he was just older. You didn’t want to make assumptions.

What happened was that your brother invited you for a night of drinks, which you could deny for a variety of reasons, but he was going to pay and the gastritis phase was over. You posted a story of the outfit you chose: a slip satin dress, another one from the collection of pieces that were tucked away in the back of your wardrobe but felt the obligation to use after the divorce.

At best, it was short. At worst, too much. The heel highlighted her calf, thighs, ass. It was normal for it to draw attention considering the clothes you wore at work, which was the only place you saw each other.

“... Then I was like: are you out of your fucking mind?! Three hundred dollars for a fucking dog clothes?” Your brother was in the middle of a rant about a client, gesturing to the air and all.

The first buzz of the phone didn't catch your attention. In the notification, you saw that it was the regular people liking the story. You returned your focus to what was being discussed in an instant.

“I would also demand higher alimony from my ex if he did that.”

“Exactly! And when I tried to explain how…”

It was on the second buzz that you were completely distracted. The notification didn't signal a like or anything like that. You frowned, looked again, and this time your eyes fixed on the screen of the device.

@bennymagalon99 replied to your story: Lookin good, mama 🔥

You stared at the screen for a long time, picking up the phone with both hands and opening the message instantly because… Well, because it didn't make a lot of sense, right? He never-

“What was it?”

“Mm?” Your head turned to him, but your eyes were still fixed on the message.

“Don't tell me it's work.”

“... Mm? Oh no! No, I was just…” You blinked a few times, fumbling with the words like a stupid. “It’s nothing. Keep going.”

“Right.”

And despite his hesitance, he kept talking, and you left your phone on the table again as you shook your head at whatever it was he wanted to vent.

Benny didn't say anything else until you got home; he wasn't even online when you had time to sit on the couch with your feet up on the coffee table. You had taken off your heels, hugged a bottle of water, and opened Instagram.

The DM was still there. You decided to answer.  

You Thanks!

Kojak was still awake and you turned on the TV because as there was no chance of falling asleep with the effects of alcohol in your system, it looked like another night of napping on the couch watching the evening's programming.

It looked like. Didn't take long for it to change completely.

@bennymagalon99 Date night?

In a way, you didn't think he was teasing you, but Benny instigated an answer to the question he already knew. The next story was of a photo of you and your brother on the way out of the bar, taken with reddened faces and smirks from the drinks, so it seemed more like a conversation starter.

You didn't know how to react to it at first. Has alcohol slowed you down? Perhaps. Perhaps, because he could also just be curious given the 'closeness' they had been nurturing.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before answering.

You Is that how you start your topics with me? Asking if I have a date or if I’m good? But no Had some drinks with my brother

@bennymagalon99 My bad I guess Kinda new in starting topics with you 😬

He kept typing, then deleted it, then started typing again.

@bennymagalon99 It’s probably because you look really nice outside your work clothes

You Oh? So I don’t look nice in general?

Benny considered. He typed, deleted, typed, deleted again. You sipped more of the water and waited; alcohol was low, it wouldn't be enough to make you so anxious for an answer, right?

As if you wouldn’t be anxious in other circumstances.

@bennymagalon99 Course you do Can’t blame a man for appreciating a specific attire tho

Attire. You looked down at yourself again, at your bloated belly and bad posture. Good thing you could work on better in the pics.

You I can’t, you’re right

You groaned right after because damn if it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing to say.

You But like I don’t use it a lot I think it would be smart of you to think that You know?

Benny was faster than before.

@bennymagalon99 What did you drink? 😂😂

You I’m not drunk 😒😒😒

@bennymagalon99 No judging, ma You sound as cute as ever

Huh. You could blame your flushed cheeks on the drink too.

You Never get tired of showering me with compliments?

@bennymagalon99 Don’t like it? 😬

You I’ve never said that

@bennymagalon99 So you do

You Ugh, you want me to start being mean to you 🙄

@bennymagalon99 I was already getting worried that you wouldn’t start soon enough

Rolling your eyes was spontaneous at that moment – he sure had a smirk on his face.

You Bye 😒😴

@bennymagalon99 At least tell me what was the drink

You had already dropped your phone on the coffee table, taking another long sip of water before settling on the couch to watch (sleep).

He would really be talking to himself.

****

It wasn't a hangover, but you didn't want to risk that headache for something else, so you took an aspirin and had the luxury of eating a full breakfast – pancakes, eggs, even a mango smoothie your father had brought for you as a courtesy for the trip to the farmers market.

Kojak got a treat too. That food that the pet shop girl indicated seemed to make him have the most beautiful scales, but that could have been your hallucination. You couldn't really trust your mind in certain ways.

Despite that, you remembered everything that happened the night before, including the messages you exchanged with Benny. You didn't particularly know what to expect, after all, he could only be bored on a night shift and that came in handy. If he remembered (sic, if he wasn’t drunk), he wouldn't say a thing at work.

And in a way, he didn't.

You had the same routine as before, apart from the small episodes of approximation. That day you didn't even have any work involving Major Crimes – if there were two times when you crossed paths, it was a lot and still no one even looked at each other because you were busy. A 'good morning' maybe, but you’re kinda sure it was Connors. You had a lot in your basket with all the Travis and Desiree situation, so you didn’t give too much of a thought.

At the end of the day, Emma knocked on your lab door and said something about 'updating the case', which meant having to go to the briefing room for a meeting with them and the DEA team.

“I need to go?” You asked like a petulant child, even though you knew it wasn't a request. “I have a lot of work here.”

“They haven't done this in weeks. Just stay there, listen or not. We need to make sure no one will use your absence as an excuse to say we’re not collaborating.”

Everyone was there – O’Brien, Zapata, Henderson, Connors and Magalon. They sat in the back of the room like that bunch of troublemakers in high school, while Walsh and his team took the lead in running the meeting. You sat on the other side, alone, letting Emma go with Gina to the front row.

Everything had an atmosphere of forced, robotic education, as if everyone was suddenly walking on eggshells. Every now and then Mathias would give you glances, which he would recover from when he met eyes with Major Crimes or Emma or Gina, who always had more trouble containing her own discontent – which you didn't judge because you were exactly the same.

You decided it wasn't a discussion you wanted to add anything to. Despite your best efforts, you were already thinking about the things you left behind in the lab.

Then your phone buzzed.

@bennymagalon99     Gin and juice?

When you looked up, you couldn’t be sure if that was really him because Benny was still paying attention to the topic. You eyed the time the message was sent: 10:36 am. It wasn't a delayed message, it seemed, and you made sure no one was looking at you when you risked answering.

You I don’t drink gin and juice

You waited, watching to see what his reaction would be. By your position, Benny had sat in the row behind the others, which left him alone and more privacy to answer. He saw the message, scoffed and turned his face towards you.

“Really?” He mouthed with a slight smile. Instead of answering the same way, you got back to typing.

You For a detective, you don't do well with guesswork

@bennymagalon99 Ooooh there she is You don't know how long I've waited to be the target of your smart mouth

You As far as I remember, you asked me to go easy on you Looks like I made you wait a lot Are you a masochist or something?

@bennymagalon99 Would that be an impediment?

You For what?

@bennymagalon99 Friendship ☺️

Someone said something in a louder tone, which roused you from the conversation. Emma, ​​of course, who just got you with your head low looking at your phone, sending you a glare to pay fucking attention.

Your eyes roamed the space and for a while you just accessed the whole picture but didn’t quite listen to anyone in particular. When you dared to look in Benny's direction, he was already watching you. Curious, probably, gesturing discreetly with his phone, expecting an answer.

“Isn't that right?” Emma called your name.

You cleared your throat, nodded.

“... Indeed.”

If Benny hid a smile after that, you pretended you didn't see it.

You Why would you want to be my friend?

@bennymagalon99 Why not? You’re funny Btw you live in California and celebrate your parties in Massachusetts, which is interesting

You That’s not funny, that’s strategic Wouldn’t dare to show off in a bikini with so much competition in LA

He took a while to answer that. Nick spoke again about something aimed at the team.

@bennymagalon99 I’ve been in Cape Cod a time or two, so maybe you’re right Haven’t seen anyone as good in a bikini as you when I was there

You hoped he wasn't staring at you when he saw the message because you’d definitely be looking the most disconcerted. Like, coming from someone like him… You know? He could be a nice guy, but you weren't an idiot. Tara from Homicides had said countless times that he was her type, which meant any woman on planet Earth was out of the picture because she was a goddess. It wasn't something to just assume.

You You'll get me used to these compliments

@bennymagalon99 They won't extend to your holiday destination choices

You A friend has a house there, gimme a break

@bennymagalon99 And they gave you mojitos? 🍸

You Is it your second guess? Because you’ve never been so wrong, detective 🤭

@bennymagalon99 WHAT? NOOOOOO 😭😭😭

You You only have one more chance

But before you could get an answer to that, Emma was approaching with slow, unobtrusive steps. Your distraction didn't let you see that she'd been alerted to a break-in – she explained, guided and you jetted out of the room without looking back; work, after all.

It wasn't until you started driving and needed to warn the scene crew you were on the way that you saw what he responded. Luckily you were alone, because you didn't have to hide one of the widest, funniest smiles you've ever had without reservations, even if it was a really stupid thing because… Well.

@bennymagalon99 And what do I get if I get it right?

****

“He-”

“Argh!”

Again, the parking lot. It was after eleven at night and by that time, few people were walking around. That made the shriek that came out of your throat louder, as did the laugh Benny let out when he saw your startled face. Really, you guys haven't met this casually before.

“For Christ alive, man!” You put a hand on your chest. “Warn a girl, yeah?”

“Always getting scared that easily?”

“Only when people sneak up behind me.”

“I’m sorry,” He raised his hands in surrender. A considerable silence hovered between you two, fading the initial agitation.

“Another night's work?” You asked.

“No, I forgot my phone here.”

“Oh.”

“And how was the case? Just break-in?”

“Yeah! Yeah, you know, robbery season in Beverly Hills.”

“Got it.”

“Mm-hm.”

Another silence, as if each unexpected meeting between the two of you was a struggle to keep from making everything awkward.

“I’ve been thinking what you said,” Benny offered after a beat.

“What I said?”

“Your drinking taste seems pretty specific.”

“Ah,” You giggled. “Do you already have that one last try, perhaps?”

“I plead the fifth. You still didn’t answer my question, I don't want to use all my cards without knowing the profits.”

“You guys are really on this bet stuff. I’m sure you all love going to Vegas.”

“Good for you it’s me on the other side and not Z, huh?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “So?”

You knew exactly where this was going, and really, at any other time in your life, with Theodore or not, you would have said no. When it came to the professional sphere, you had no problem filling yourself with complications, but you only did that because you didn't like to think too much about your personal life. You thought about this after the DM exchanges started: Benny exuded trouble. And, well, he was a hottie, but who's to say he wasn't just going down that path to get compensation for helping you with Walsh?

“... Is it negotiable?” You asked.

“‘Course.”

“Then tell me what it is you want.”

Benny was weighing the possibilities, as if he really wanted something impossible. You started to worry just a little bit, wondering what kind of favor he might ask, but after a while of looking you in the face, he ran his tongue over his lips, thumb brushing his goatee.

You may have watched the scene cautiously. You may.

“I admit I didn't expect this.”

“Why?”

“You shouldn't give people that much freedom.”

“I just like the challenge,” You didn’t, but you wanted to see where it would go.  

“Okay then,” He shrugged. “Friday we're going out. You and me.”

“... Mm?”

Did you hear right? He… Was that right? Good heavens, it sounded so unlikely that you thought you hadn't heard and were silent for a long time, at least long enough for him to start to get uncomfortable.

“But if you don’t want it, we can-”

“That’s not it,” Your voice came out cold, clipped. “You were there when Walsh said that stuff. Believe me, I didn’t think about the possibility of ever giving any of you guys a second glance in that aspect, but people talk. I shouldn’t worry but, you know, I just really care about my reputation. Professionally.”

“And you wouldn’t want to fill the gossip.”

“Yeah. Not that I don’t think you’re nice, because you are. I should’ve pay you dinner at that place for what you did, it’s just… precaution, I guess.”

“I get it.”

Those silences were starting to get more awkward and awkward as he continued them. You didn't know what to do with yourself, whether to wait for him to say the stupid thing or just say goodbye with an apology.

“Cosmopolitan.”

You frowned.

“What?”

“Your drink. It was a Cosmopolitan.”

“How did you-”

“You have like four different pictures with one of these. Including when you were on Cape Cod.”

“... Really?” You asked with a weak and defeated smile.

“Yeah,” Benny mirrored your own expression before turning all serious again. “And you have your reasons to not accept this, really, but I’ve been doing this for a while now. I’m not known as the type to kiss and tell.”

He had a valid point. Despite their fears, everyone knew the reputation of each of the Major Crimes guys and there was already a pattern of the type of people in the Department they associated with… except for Benny. Whenever these conversations happened, he was always an unknown, a suspect (like Tara from Homicide), but never a certainty. This was a hell of a mistake for something long-term, but for casual outings it seemed more than ideal.

Still, you considered it judiciously, as always. You remembered that Benny wasn't in that room with Brixton, and that Lennon had a gleam in his eye that no one gave you when Walsh told you those things.

“... Okay.”

The answer was simple and straightforward. He raised his eyebrows, you raised yours because you said it so abruptly.

“Okay?”

“Are you chickening out?” The defiant tone came out with some effort and he repeated his motion: lips licked, thumb brushing the goatee. It was probably a habit of his.

“I’m just making sure you want this. I don’t want to brag, but I’m not one to have people going out with me out of pity.”

“Good, because I don’t do that either.”

Your hint made him smile behind the tip of his fingers.

“You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Benny nodded. “Which makes me wonder if you'll give me your number so we can work out the details. I really hate chatting through DMs.”

****

Taglist (no pressure)

@cheesybadgers 

@thesandbeneathmytoes 

@nerdyreaderpapi 

@thoroughlymodernminutia​