#want to go back after 2 weeks and do it all over again

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. established relationship, light angst with a happy resolution. | wc: 1.9k, reading time: ~7 minutes

“If you go this time, don’t come back. I don’t want you here.”

The words blow through Dante’s memory like a chilly wind, not unlike the one that is sweeping through the nearly deserted city streets tonight. His jacket’s collar is popped over the bottom portion of his face to obscure him from the eyes of anyone who may be looking than it is to fight against the cold, his hot blooded nature coming in handy on nights like these where he has to keep himself warm. 

He’s had a lot of those nights lately and they make him wander the streets aimlessly if he isn’t working. He’d call it a patrol if someone asked but he knows the truth about why he does it.

Your part of the city is a bit nicer than his despite there only being a few blocks separating them. He wanders around looking at nicely kept shop windows, all of which keep normal business hours, closed and locked and tidy. A tidy neighborhood meant for tidy people. He’s sullying this like he does everything else. 

Sighing, he shoves his hands deeper into his jacket pockets and walks toward your apartment complex with his face pointed forward. Seeing his own reflection would only solidify how terrible he feels right now, certain the outside is reflecting the inside which is a mess since you told him you didn’t want to see him again.

Your reasoning makes perfect sense. You aren’t just a warm occasional bed or a nice meal or the owner of the only place that feels like it has light left in it in the entire world, you’re more and you deserve to be treated as such, which is far more than Dante can do for you as he is right now. Unfortunately, he made a promise to you after you first met that he’d always keep you safe, no matter what. 

Dante doesn’t break a promise. Not anymore. 

Punching in your personal code for the door of the apartment building where you reside, he raises a brow curiously noticing you still haven’t changed it. The first time he tried it and he worked would be the last, he promised himself. Then he returned the next night and did it again. And again. And again. And now, weeks later, he’s punching it in without even looking over his shoulder.

0127 - the date of the night the two of you met for the first time. 

Looks like you aren’t quite ready to move on yet yourself. It would be foolish to hope maybe you’ve softened your stance toward a man who doesn’t deserve such grace so he squashes the flame that the number stokes in his heart. 

He takes the narrow, metal stairs two at a time to decrease the chance someone will hear his heavy footsteps and peek out - it is 2 o’clock in the morning after all. There’s no telling what you’ve told your nosy neighbors if you’ve told them anything and he is loath to think that the noise complaints they made about the two of you specifically, about giggling and lovemaking both, continued because you’ve brought someone else into your life. He’d like to think he knows you better than that and you wouldn’t but lonely hearts do crazy things to feel full for even a little while. 

Standing in front of your door, Dante thinks better of this for the first time since he started. What if someone else is in there? Even worse, what if you aren’t home? Will he traverse through the city for the rest of the night to find you? 

Yes, of course he will but thankfully as he reaches for the doorknob, the subtle scent of you drifts around the door. Not in the way all people’s homes kind of smell like them but you, direct from the source. Not arousal, not fear, just you. 

He breathes a sigh of relief and reaches to lift the little placard you keep on your door welcoming guests in, unsticking the spare key from its secret hiding place. He slips it into the lock and it unlatches as always.

You hear it from your bedroom. The locks components slide over one another then you hear the door open quietly. Your guest is attempting to hide the little squeak from the hinges by keeping their foot beneath the bottom one and shutting 

There is one singular person who knows both where the spare key is kept and how to keep the door quiet. Chuckling quietly, you curl into your bedding and shift to lay on your back so that you can watch what’s happening through the open bedroom door. You silently thank whatever is out there, shutting your eyes tightly for a millisecond before footsteps reverberate through your quiet apartment again confirming what you already knew.

Dante. He’s come back.

The footsteps continue for a few moments and stop in the kitchen. You hear the jingle of your keys being swept out of the way on the counter, wondering what he could be reaching for. 

It’s the picture of the two of you on the counter, the one you just took off of the fridge last night. It made you ache to look at while retrieving a glass of water so you pinched it off of the fridge and put it aside. He pinches it in the same way, frowning softly. 

It isn’t too late to turn around and walk out, he thinks. But he came all this way and needs to get a good look at you just to make sure you’re okay. 

Placing the picture down on the counter, he steps as quietly as he can in boots across the wooden floors. He’s held your hand and danced with you through these rooms during happier times and you’ve listened to him talk about his pain freely during the hard ones.

Why does it feel like this may be the last time he ever memorizes himself as a fixture in your place, your life?

Dante’s footsteps still as they approach the edge of the living room that then continues on to your bedroom. The door separating the rooms is rarely closed unless you have someone over and it’s open tonight, as always. He sighs and takes a few more steps, walking past the couch and tipping his head to look over the doorway. 

“I know it’s you.”

Shit. Of all the things he’s thought about since coming here, never once did he think that you may be awake. A more idealistic part of him hoped for it, maybe, but now that it has happened he freezes in his tracks and comes to rest, standing across the room from you. It feels like a world apart.

“I never should have come,” he states simply, coolly though it’s a facade to hide his pounding heart. The possibility that you’ll deny him again races through his head and now that he has been caught doing his nightly ritual, there’s a chance things could end up even worse than they have been lately. It’d be what he deserves.

You let silence linger for a moment, working up your courage to say what you’ve been thinking since that unfortunate evening that ended with him simply nodding and leaving, shutting the door behind him and erasing his presence from your life since.

“And I never should’ve said something that I didn’t mean to you.”

You sigh, using your left index finger to bend the right middle one backward, your eyes glued on the stretch of the digit rather than the only eyes that have ever made you feel seen that look at you across familiar darkness. 

“There’s one place you will always belong, Dante and it’s here.” Nodding, you swallow. “With me.”

He says nothing, statue still in the darkened doorway. The big window in your living room backlights him in shades of late night neon, the reflection of a reddish halo above his snow capped head. A little part of you thinks you’re dreaming, saying all the things you’ve kept to yourself over the difficult few weeks that have passed to an apparition of a man you’d give anything to see again at this point. Perhaps your sanity is the first of those things you’re freely giving yet this feels real. So you keep speaking. 

“And I want you here even if you don’t believe it. Even if you think I’m mean or crazy or you don’t love me…”

The air in the room shifts. 

“Don’t say that.”

His silhouette slips through the door, past the creaky floorboard. 

There are many things in this world that he can tolerate but you doubting his feelings is not one of them. Heavy footsteps ring through the room. Your discarded clothing that should’ve been put in the hamper becomes a victim to muddy boots that should’ve been cast off at the door despite his haste to see you. 

“I love you.”

The words come from the side of the bed, Dante kneeling at the side of it though he’s practically lying across it with how low it rests above the floor. Your eyes finally focus in the darkness, allowing you to clearly make him out for the first time in a while.

He’s as sharp and beautiful as ever yet haunted, dark circles indicating sleepless nights giving him away. Stubble dots his chin and cheeks, your palm graced by its sharpness when you reach out to cup his jaw. Your mouth bunches in on itself, quivering lips hiding while your sniffles give you away. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m such a selfish brat and you don’t deserve it.”

You burst into tears, a sob wracking your body. A balloon of sympathy bursts inside of Dante and he reaches for your hand that rests on his cheek, covering it and weaving his fingers over yours. 

“We all say things we aren’t proud of,” he mutters.

It’s a covert acceptance of your peace offering because he knows you’d overreact to a direct one.  It’s also a plea for you to stop talking badly about yourself. He has been through enough, the last thing he wants is to listen to this, this painful self flagellation. 

“Yeah but I don’t want to be so afraid of losing you it makes me hurt you either.”

You are so precious he cannot even begin to fathom that you see yourself as anything lesser. He smiles softly. 

It’s the first time he’s felt like doing so for weeks.

“Then I’ll just keep reminding you that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There are no monsters that I can’t handle for you.” 

You silently point downward with raised eyebrows, the faintest hint of a smile flickering across a handsome face when he realizes you mean the tiny space just beneath your bed.

“It’d be a little hard for a monster to slip under there but yeah, exactly. Not the ones under your bed.” He raps his knuckles gently against your forehead.  “Not even the ones in your head.” 

You reach up to wrap one of your hands around his fist, warm tears sliding down your cheeks when you close them. The two of you remain like that for a few moments, simply enjoying the warmth of the other's presence. You swallow the lump in your throat and look up at him.

“We aren’t perfect apart but I know we’re perfect together.”

Dante nods, leaning in to press his forehead against yours.

“I can’t help but agree with that.”

[lucy-literates]

Knots

Synopsis: Your husband has a grueling job, so you secretly took massage lessons to surprise him and help him relax after a long day (post Thunderbolts*).

A/N: My requests are open! I'm seriously considering going back to the cinemas to watch Thunderbolts* again. I can not tell you guys how happy I am that Buck finally got his own theme, he so deserves it. I’m so proud of him. Anyway, enjoy :)

Not only does Bucky run around saving the world, he also babysits 5 adult children. There isn’t a mission they’ve been on that has gone how they planned, whether Alexi just ran in shouting “We are the Thunderbolts!”, or John who got the best of him and he took on more than he should’ve. It was always Bucky that got stuck saving their asses.

He knew that was gonna happen when he agreed (was forced into) the job, and deep deep deep down, he kinda likes it.

He’s never had that mentor role before, always being the fragile, broken soldier who needed guidance and healing. He now get to be the strong leader, who helps the other heal.

Some days, that looks like letting Yelena take her anger out on him. Other days, it looks like handcuffing Bob to the couch when he’s got the occasional craving for meth.

He wouldn’t change a thing. Except, for maybe a few more quiet days he could spend with you. He could never get enough of those.

He just came back from 2 week mission, dropping the others off at the tower and hightailing it to your little apartment down the street.

He fished the key you gave to him out of his pocket, and burst through the door. He silently stalked around the apartment, looking for you.

Next thing he knows, there’s a gun pointed in between his eyes.

“Holy shit Buck, I thought you were trying kidnapping me” you scold. It’s happened before, that’s why Bucky gave you one of his many handguns. You placed it down safely, then jumped into his arms.

He took you to the bed, hugging you and giving you small pecs the whole way. He placed you down, and reached for your computer which displayed your brand new masseuse certificate, something you had achieved right as Bucky got home.

You lunged for the laptop, slamming it closed and taking it from you. He immediately raised his eyebrow in a silent question.

“It’s actually a surprise for you” you admitted. “For me? When” he asked.

“Now. Lay done on the bed, shirt of” you ordered.

“Is this one of those new sex things you’ve been asking you try?” He accused.

“No! Now do what I said” you demanded

“Please” you added for good measure.

He grumbled and did what you demanded. You squeezed some moisture onto you hands and slid them up his back, gliding through the muscles.

You started on his shoulders, the tension and knots melted away as you worked. Bucky was groaning and moaning underneath you.

“You like your surprise?” You asked rather meekly

He replied with a muffled “fuck yeah” and went back to enjoying the pleasure.

His muscles rippled as you good your hands all over him, goosebumps changing after your hands. Some spots, like his shoulder blades, back, neck, and calves took a little extra work to get the knots out. You enjoyed being able to make him so relaxed while you basically got the freedom to touch whatever you wanted.

It wasn’t a secret that you struggled to keep your hands to yourself around your husband, this just gave you another excuse to touch except he enjoyed this one.

You spent an hour and a half massaging from his feet, to his scalp. He fell asleep somewhere around working on thighs.

He hadn’t showered yet, but you knew there was no way you were going to wake him up for one. So, instead, you got a warm wash cloth and bathed him the best you could. Luckily, you had him strip to his boxers so you didn’t need to worry about trying to slid clothes off.

You went to the walk in closet and pulled down a blanket, the only one you owned that completely covered him. You laid it on him and then off the light, making your way to the bathroom so you yourself could shower.

You emerged 20 minutes later to find Bucky sitting up in bed, book in hand. It was a book you recommended for him. He looked as he heard you lightly pad across the floor. He avoid back on the bed and lifted the covers, inviting you in.

A light bulb lit up in your head. “Buck, do you want to be little spoon this time?” He looked at you like you had offended him in the highest degree.

“That massage was amazing, but no fucking way am I ever going to be little spoon.”

You chuckled as his little outburst and joined him in the bed, snuggling into his now knot free chest.

“I’m not kidding doll, my body feels so loose and free now. Thank you” he admitted, kissing your forehead. “Surely you didn’t need to go get a whole certificate for it”

“Busted” you mutter. “I might want to start my own little masseuse business, massaging you just gave me a good excuse to get started”

“Of course it did” he chuckled, ever amused by your reasonings.

He held you tighter and whispered “good night, doll”. You pecked his lips and whispered “good night Buck” in return. You flicked off the lights and fell asleep to the sound of Buckys steady, content heart

[freakmcnastyy]

Sex, money, feelings die

Geum Seongjae x f!reader Pt.2

Warnings: Smut(?), smoking, one-night stand, curses.

Note: I have absolutely no clue about Korea’s currency system or economy. I wrote the amount randomly, sorry!

→ Pt.1 / Pt.2 / Pt.3 / Pt.4

Inspired by the song “Sex Money Feelings Die”

⸻

It was 11:43 pm. You were lying in bed, staring at reels on your phone like a zombie. Still thinking about that morning from a week ago. İt just didn’t leave your head. Feelings had no place in your thing. You knew that. Still, you were thinking about him way more than you should’ve.

It’s like the universe heard you.

A notification popped up from the top of your screen.

Wolf 🖤: “you up?”

Your heart skipped. It shouldn’t have. You tried to stay cool. Replied with a simple “yeah.” He texted back right away. No emoji. Just an address. Probably the same one from that morning.

⸻

You called a cab and went to his place. Knocked on that familiar door twice. He opened it. Black shorts. Black t-shirt. A cigarette hanging from his lips.

No “hi.”

No smile.

You walked in like you’d done this a hundred times. Oversized hoodie. Messy hair. No makeup. Still looked like a fucking dream. Or a red flag.

You sat on his bed like it belonged to you. You didn’t say a word.

He didn’t either. Just walked over, leaned in, and kissed you.

Slow at first.

Like it meant something.

Then rougher.

Your hand slipped under his shirt, cold fingers tracing his warm skin. He grabbed you by the waist, pushed you back onto the bed. You sank into the pillows. He kissed your jaw, your neck, your collarbone.

Took off his own shirt first. Then pulled off your hoodie. A little too fast. Like he wanted it over with. —But he didn’t. Not really.—

No “I missed you.”

No “How was your day?”

Just heavy breathing.

And a kiss that made you forget your fucking name.

⸻

When his hand reached for your bra clasp, a moan slipped out of your mouth. He unhooked it like he’d done it a million times. Slid it off your arms and latched onto one like a starved baby. One hand on your waist, the other massaging your free breast.

Then he pulled away.

Without wasting a damn second, he yanked down your shorts. All you had left on was your panties. But you weren’t shy. You were used to this.

You just wondered what he’d do next.

He kissed you again.

You let out a soft sound.

The kind that made his knees weak.

The kind that made him want to pull you closer and never let go.

But he didn’t.

After that kiss, the only sounds were the bed creaking, skin against skin. Then silence. Your body still touching his. His breathing calm. Heartbeat slow.

⸻

You both collapsed on the bed. Completely naked. Half-lost.

He looked at you.

Really looked.

Like he gave a damn.

Like he felt something.

And maybe—just maybe—he actually did.

⸻

And before either of you could say anything—or before he could even think about asking you to stay—you got up. Got dressed.

Didn’t look at him.

Didn’t say goodbye.

“Wait,” he said, just like that morning. You turned around. He stood up, grabbed the necklace you’d left in his car, and clasped it around your neck.

“You can go. I’ll send the money,” he said.

You didn’t hesitate.

You just walked back home.

⸻

[02:02 am]

You were fresh out of the shower, about to crash. Your phone buzzed. You checked the notification. Banking app.

“₩300,000 has been deposited into your account.”

You sighed.

As you slipped into bed, he was in his own world—smoking on the balcony.

And the next time you saw his name light up your screen…

He knew damn well you’d answer.

[emilys-bangs]

thankful you don't send someone to kill me | e.p

Tags: bau!reader, london!emily, angst, exes who STILL haven't gotten over each other, phone calls, pregnant!emily, brief mentions of blood, reader has trouble sleeping, implied previous insomnia, they still want each other bad

Summary: History repeats itself; when you call, Emily answers.

Word count: 1.7k

Part one

The TV blurs in Emily’s vision. Her eyelids are heavy, lashes skimming her cheeks, but another kick to the ribs swiftly dissolves any hopes of sleep. She groans quietly into the couch cushion, her palm smoothing over the curve of her stomach.

“Go to sleep, kid,” she mutters, feeling her daughter flutter under her skin. It’s all but fruitless by now; weak, watery light filters in through the curtains, dawn slowly creeping across the living room floor and chasing away the likelihood of going back to sleep. Emily rubs between her brows, stamping down on the urge to cry.

Nothing is easy when you’re 30 weeks pregnant. Not walking or sleeping or, hell, just being upright. She’s constantly tired, constantly aching, constantly on the verge of falling apart at the seams. Her skin is bone dry in the midst of summer, lips cracking and peeling if they’re not perpetually lathered in Vaseline, but the hormones are probably the worst of it. Wild and out of control, they bubble to the surface faster than she can blink, tears blurring her vision over nonsense, anger sparking in her blood at the slightest inconvenience. Mark flounders around her, desperate to have her in one piece; Emily is very nearly the same, slowly losing her patience with both him and herself, longing for the moment when she’d finally have her daughter in her arms.

But that moment isn’t coming along any time soon.

Emily nuzzles her face into the space between the couch cushions in an attempt to block out the light. Some shuteye has to do some good, even if by this point it’s probable it’ll tire her out more somehow. Her baby begins to still again, and Emily closes her eyes, relishing in the yet unbroken peace of the morning. 

She barely counts ten seconds before her phone buzzes with a call. 

The vibrations travel through the cushions and force her eyes open again. Her phone doesn’t even ring twice; it goes still mid-ring, the screen dying to a flat black. 

She’s going to kill Clyde.

Emily grabs her phone, scowling at the screen until her brain catches up, the letters on the screen joining together to form a name, and then endless ashy memories.

You.

Her breath hitches. She blinks and reads the name again, dragging her thumbnail over the screen. Its shape is so familiar, sloping letters joining sweetly to make up years of faded bliss, months of ever-present agony. There’s no way you’d call. Not after the last time, when she ground your heart to pieces beneath her heel, heard it crack in your voice and in her own chest. No, you wouldn’t call—she made sure of that.

Unless you’re in trouble.

The thought makes her chest tight. Emily doesn’t hesitate, pressing call and bringing the phone to her ear, hardly hearing the long rings through the roar of blood in her veins. 

Beep. Beep. 

She mentally calculates the time difference. Almost 2 am, if you’re in DC. Emily gnaws on her lip, automatically smoothing over a kick to her spleen.

Beep. Bee—

The line clicks. It’s silent, both of you holding your breath. Movement buzzes in the background, faint white noise; it doesn’t bend beneath your voice as you stay quiet. Waiting.

Emily cracks first.

“Y/N.” Her tongue almost weeps at the feeling of your name on it. “Are you—are you okay?” It’s embarrassing, the way her voice cracks, but she doesn’t even hear it. “It’s late. Are you home? Is everything—?”

“I’m fine.” Your voice is faded. Toneless. Emily exhales at the sound of it, her ears ringing. “Sorry. I, uh—I didn’t mean to call.” 

It stings, a barely healed cut slicing open again, but what did she expect? Of course you didn’t. 

But, she thinks deliriously. 

But you still called.

“My finger slipped.” You say, effectively deflating the balloon of hope in her chest before it can grow. “Sorry.” 

Emily swallows. Her baby kicks and she rubs over the ache, feeling the imprint of an elbow as the silence stretches and thickens and starts to taper off neatly into a goodbye. 

The thought sends a strange panic racing through her. She grabs the silence, snaps it in her hands, and lets her voice echo down the line. 

“Why are you awake?” 

But she knows why. Your mind races too restlessly too often. It wasn’t always that she could help; sometimes she just sat with you on the couch as muted reruns flashed on the TV, doing nothing but keeping you company and raking her fingers through your hair. 

Her hand twitches. She clenches her fingers into a fist, bringing them up to the torn skin on her bottom lip.

“Don’t know. Just one of those nights, I guess.” You speak slowly. The tired rasp in your voice is familiar, haunting; she wishes she could smooth it away. “We’re in New York.” You volunteer.

Emily peels a dry patch of skin from her lip, blood wetting her nail. She pretends it’s the sting that burns her eyes, makes them drown in salt.

“You’ll have to be up early.” She rasps needlessly, thinking of Hotch’s disfavor for tardiness. “Try to close your eyes, love.”

She bites down on her tongue, blood coating her teeth, but it’s too late. A sardonic sound huffs from your mouth, a phantom burst of air caressing her ear. “Solid advice, Emily. I hadn’t thought of that.” The bite of your tone claws into her flesh, drawing streams of blood down her limbs. Her tears join the mix, swirling down in the wake of your bitterness and her crumbling resolve.

Seconds clump together, and this time, she’s too scared to break the silence, afraid she’ll say something stupid. Confess that she’s not too sure she hasn’t made a mistake. Fucked up her life, and yours, and Mark’s. Beg you to take her back, away from her stiflingly kind fiancé who handles her with kid gloves, too unsettled by a version of her that isn’t fully composed. 

But no, she already pushed you away, didn’t she? She doesn’t get to go back. She won’t.

Emily’s heart trips in your silence. Do you hate her already? You must. Sometimes she thinks she hates you, but she’s pathetically weak where you’re involved. She can’t hear your name in someone else’s mouth. Can’t bear to think about you for more than a few minutes without her mouth going sour, cheeks puckering as she wonders if it’s possible you could’ve moved on, found someone better. She’s tender all over on the inside, bruised and sensitive, entirely composed of the fresh, delicate skin hidden beneath a scab.

Emily glances at her phone, making sure the call is still running. Your name is trapped in her mouth, her cheeks cool with sticky tears as she soothes her daughter’s restlessness and waits for whatever it is you’ll unleash on her. 

It takes an age before you speak. When you do, your voice is quieter. “It must be—what time is it over there?”

“Almost seven.” She croaks.

”God, that’s early. Sorry I woke you up.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” She blurts out.

“Everything okay?” She hears the concern bleed into your voice. It chokes her, your lovely fingers digging into her throat and cutting off the flow of air to her lungs.

“Everything’s fine.” Her voice shakes. “It’s not—uh. Not nightmares or anything.” 

She can’t get herself to say it. Say, I can’t sleep because my baby’s keeping me up. She’s using me as a punching bag, and I can’t tell you about it because I don’t get to. Because I signed up for it and you didn’t. Her tongue is numb around the words, frozen in a way she never used to be with you.

Briefly, Emily hates the both of you. Hates herself for being ashamed to mention her unborn child that she’d torn her heart to get, hates you for making her hesitate.

Your silence tells her you understand. You were always a smart one, easily catching on to her wit and matching it with your own. Now you clear your throat. “Can’t be easy sleeping now. Seven months, huh?”

Her heart flutters.

“Just over,” she mumbles, looking down at her stomach. It gently warps the material of her tank top. “30 weeks.” Her voice wobbles. A warm tear drops on the crest of her bump and bleeds through the cotton, staining it dark. 

God, she’s thought of this. Dreamed of it. Calling you, hearing your voice even though she’s the last person to deserve it. She doesn’t even deserve to hear it tinny and flat through the speakers of her phone, through the buds of her earphones, trying to get close to the real thing—feeling it beat faintly in her ears—without stripping away more of her dignity.

It didn’t work. Nothing ever did.

Emily wipes her damp cheeks, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Um, how are you? How’ve you been?”

“Let’s not do this, Emily.” You murmur. You suddenly sound years older, worn down and thready. She closes her eyes.

“Are you eating?” Are you walking around with missing fragments of a heart like she is? “Is Serg?”

“The damn cat’s always eating.” You huff, something like a laugh. It pinches at her chest. “He misses you.” You say, quieter.

“He loves you.” Emily’s throat is numb with the taste of tears.

Your breath hitches in her ear. 

“I have to go.”

“Wait.” She whispers. “No, wait, please, I…”

I miss you. I still love you. I think I fucked up, but I’m not too sure I didn’t.

“Hey. Don’t…” You trail off, heaving in a breath, “Don’t cry, Em. You’re—you’re happy, aren’t you?”

She digs a heel into her eye. “I’m not.” She sniffs, her words ringing entirely hollow. “Not crying, it’s just—the baby. She’s kicking.”

Your stillness is palpable. “She, huh?” You say, your voice straining. “Picked out a name yet?”

What is she doing?

“You don’t have to do this. God, I’m sorry, I’ll just—take care of yourself, okay? Please.”

“I should be the one telling you that.”

Emily touches her stomach. Her daughter doesn’t rise to her touch, finally stilling. “I will if you will.” She rasps, rubbing circles on her skin.

A beat. Then, softly, “I’ll try.”

That’s all she can ask for. Maybe, Emily thinks as the call disconnects, even that is too much.

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[nyxtickled]

did u pocket all the money ppl gave u for nest then dip ??

yes, that is one way to look at it. (tw: pet loss, grief)

in march i held my pup in my arms and kissed her head over and over as she struggled to breathe until the doctor ended her suffering for us after only 3 months of fighting her sudden diagnosis of lymphoma. she would have turned 4 less than a month later.

that dog was my ESA, my baby, my world. i did everything with her and raised her from 8 weeks old. i knew her from the day she was born. losing her so suddenly and after fighting so hard with weekly appointments and a slew of medications just.. broke something in my brain. i am still not the same. i don’t know when i will feel like myself again. i am just going through the motions and letting the grief do what it wants with me.

and then there was NEST. it has been on my mind a lot actually. yes, i accepted donations to help me fund my ticket and flight. however, most of the fundraising i did was in the form of custom content. i bought my ticket. i even bought my wife’s ticket. and then we lost Fawkes. since then, everything has been dark.

anyway, i don’t say any of this to create excuses. i am glad you mentioned it, because even in the days leading up to the event i grappled with the prospect of going and talked to my wife about it over and over. i would sit there and get ready to write something on discord, or open the tumblr app, and then just freeze. i couldn’t even click on the notification bubbles and eventually just turned all of my notifications off for all of my apps. i couldn’t even log in.

if you have ever been to a gathering, you likely know how incredibly intoxicating the energy is. it’s like going on a bender, but the drug is kink. it’s a complete and total flood of dopamine from start to finish. it’s beautiful, it’s life-changing, it’s empowering, it’s freeing. and it also has the potential to hit like a bomb when you get back home.

i knew that even if i tried my hardest to go and enjoy myself, i was running the risk of catapulting myself into even more of a black hole than i was already in when i returned. my engineering classes started up again in april, and it has been consistently taking all of my resolve just to keep up with homework and studying. not to mention i was still crying about once a day at this point, sometimes more. so, there was also a pretty hefty chance that i would get there and wind up hiding in a room the entire time after realizing i couldn’t tap into the level of joy and sensuality that would have surrounded me.

as a result i made the decision to stay home. and i wanted to share that choice with everyone, i know i should have. but again, i froze and said nothing. lately it has felt as though all the words ive ever known have just left my body entirely. and, again, not an excuse - just an honest explanation.

that being said, i have still thought of the people who helped me with funds outside of purchasing content from me many times. to those reading this: if you donated anything to me with the intent of helping me get to NEST, please contact me directly and i will return it to you. i would never intentionally take advantage of anyone’s generosity. i never reached out to ask for a refund for my tickets or anything, so i lost out too. i just, disappeared. emotionally, mentally, pretty much in every way except physically, i disappeared with Fawkes on that night. every penny i raised has just been used to pay for bills, supplies for our 3 kitties (and 2 tiny kittens we’ve been fostering since our friend saved them from the side of the freeway, long story, cat distribution system is real as fuck) and whatever else we have needed to get by.

to all of my friends who haven’t heard from me, i’m truly so sorry. it won’t be forever, so please don’t worry. exene has been absolutely incredible at caring for me and holding me through it all every day. trust me when i say i look forward the moment i wake up from this as much as you do. i love you with all of my damn heart and i think of you all the time. i’m just.. stuck.

anyways, would it really be a nyx update if it wasn’t 3x longer than it needed to be? 💀 moral of the story: if you donated freely rather than buying content, please let me know if you want your donation back. i will not hesitate to return it to you as soon as i can. i have not done anything with the funds other than live off of them, and barely living at that, lol.

all of my love to u. <3

[nickandjuneendgame]

Nick and June scene

Today, for my first post ever, I'd like to talk about one scene in particular. Obviously, I love all the Nick-June scene ( I mean, I'm literaly obsessed with them, but I'm keeping that for another post. And for my therapist 😅).

So, in season 2 episode 13, we have, for me, one of the most beautiful scene between Nick and June ever. It's one of my favorite and let me tell you why.

In this scene, June is in her bedroom after being slapped by Fred just a moment before. ( She slapped him back as well, and gosh, it felt so good to watch!!! You go girl !!! ). Rita is in the room with her and a moment after, who's coming too ? Our dear Nick ! He looked upset, worried for June. As she walks by him, Rita says " You're girlfriend is a badass ! ". And then, he smiled. Not just because he found that funny, but because, for the first time, someone called June his girlfriend. Not offred. Not the handmaid. Not even June. But his girlfriend. Someone else knows about them being together. It's not just their secret anymore. Someone they can both trust is aware of what's going on between them. Maybe not fully, but enough. And we can see on his face that this is something big to him. Something he never could, or hoped to hear one day. " Your girlfriend".

June told him " it's okay" as soon as Rita leaves the room. She repeated that multiple times, because she knows that Nick needs to hear that. Not just because he's worried about her but because he feels so much guilt, so much sadness about Eden. Eden just got murdered for falling in love with someone else. And he feels like he should have been nicer to her, that it's his fault, in a way, that she died. And he can't forgive himself for that. But in the same time, he loves June so much ( and Eden being only 15, let's be honest) I don't think he was able to handle things differently without feeling like he betrayed June and the way he feels about her. And we can see all that just by the look in the eyes of Max. What an amazing actor, really ! No words, not a single one, but we still see how much pain he's in just with his eyes. And June knows it too. Of course she knows. So she stands up, walks towards him and gently touch his cheek saying that it's okay. And we can see Nick truly showing his vulnerability, his fragility to June ( and to us ) perhaps for the first time. He didn't hide it anymore to protect June or himself. He is his true self at this exact moment. He desperately needed June to comfort him, to show him that this is not his fault. That he is not alone. Because Nick always had to be alone in his life. Not because he wanted to. But because people always bailed on him. He never had someone he can rely on. Until June. He always had June's back. He always protected her. But who protected him ? Who was there for him when he desperately needed it ? With whom can he show his true self, his true feelings ? June is his person. The one who he had and will fight for. And at that moment, he needed to hear that everything is gonna be okay. That he's not alone anymore. That he can rely on someone, on June. And June knows that. That's why this moment is so important. I like that we were able to see Nick's fragility and to see June saving him where we were used to see Nick saving her over and over again. He finally can show who he is, his failures, his weeknesses and be open. He needed that so much. And we can see that with only his expressions, his body language, without a single word.

After that, June takes Nick to finally see his daughter. Something he wanted for so long ! Something he never thought he could do. We never saw Nick so full of emotions before. Holding his daughter in his arms, with June by his side, is something that he was longing for so long. He didn't think he would ever be able to do that. And once more, we can see all of that with only his body language, his expressions, his eyes. For a moment, they are a real family. And it's important because that's something he really wanted but can't have in gilead. To be a family with June and their baby. This scene, with Nick holding his baby in his arms for the first time ( and in his head, perhaps for the last time ) is magical. We can see how much it means for both of them. And that shot where we see Rita smiling watching them! This small moment of pure happiness, so rare in Gilead.

And then, the first " I love you " from June to Nick. The first time she acknowledge her feelings for him, out loud. The first time she really opens up to him in this way. And he needed to hear those words. We can see how relief he is, how much it means to him to hear that she, in fact, really loves him. He always doubted that she can ever really feels this way about him. That he was worthy of her love. I think, deep down, that he always thought that she was too good for him. He said it himself later in the show : " I'm nothing ". But in that moment, the first time she says I love you, he truly believes her. He has her love, and they are a family. That's all he ever wanted. Even if it's just for a while. This moment is theirs. A beautiful bubble of happiness in this horrible world.

So, that's it. That's why this scene means so much to me. I can watch it and watch it all over again and never be bored of it. ( In fact, I can never be bored of any of their scenes actually 😅). I'm so sorry for my bad english, this is not my language. I hope that it's understandable.

What about you ? What is your favorite scene, or at least one of your favorite ? The one that you could watch over and over again ?

[everlastingserenitys]

I GOT FUCKED BY TOP GIFTER?!

summ. you were once top 2 on your site, but luckily for you, a mysterious man suddenly brought you back to number 1. but the last thing you expected was for that man to be your coworker you hated!

pairing. caleb x f!reader cw. cam girl!reader, rivals with benefits, perv!caleb, zayne cameo, dirty talk, teasing, p in v, desk sex, Caleb has a stupid ass username, spoiling, one night stand, kissing semi public, I dont even think they hate each other, fucking on live stream, unrealistic numbers, 4k wc (ah, fuck.) a/n. this gotta be a kink atp. HELP also fixing any mistakes later.. sorry in advance !!

“A-are you sure this is safe?” Caleb stuttered, glancing back at Zayne who just pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“It is safe. Relax. You’re the one who wanted to try something new, so I did my research and found this.”

“Are you sure I won't–”

But before he could finish his sentence another menacing look from Zayne darted past him. Caleb zipped his lips shut and hesitantly brought his shaky fingers to his mouse, dragging the cursor to the ‘sign up’ button and in a click he was in.

A display of explicit thumbnails filled his whole screen, Caleb’s eyes twisted in desire, a goop of drool dripped down his lips, and he didn’t even notice it yet.

He examined every pixel, his eyes darting from every angle he could capture. He scrolled through the page, his finger aimlessly clicking everywhere but before he could continue any further, Zayne cleared his throat from behind.

Caleb flinched, he removed his hand off his mouse and turned to Zayne who was just staring at him with his hand out in front of him. An annoyed sigh escaped his lips and he opened the drawers of his desk and pulled out a file, giving it to Zayne, but before he could grab it, Caleb pulled it back.

“Uh-uh,” he tuts, mockingly waving the paper in front of Zayne, “I’ll give you this if you give me some money, alright?”

“Money? Didn’t I give you this website?” Zayne mumbled, his eyes flickered on the file—of office work needed for next week—in Caleb’s hand and tried reaching for it, but accidentally stumbled on his foot and landed against Caleb.

But Zayne must’ve misclicked something when he used his hands for support, mistakenly smashing his large palm against the keyboard. The screen illuminated with the three dots chasing each other in a circle, and before Caleb could close it, a pre-recorded live stream of a beautiful girl was on display for him.

Caleb's hand ghosted over his mouse as he watched the video in awe. Since the streamer was faceless–well, had a mask, there wasn't much for him to depict from there, but Caleb felt like he hit the jackpot. He mumbled dirty words under his breath, scanned every crevice of his monitor, he was just so captivated by the video he didn't even notice Zayne slip the files away from his fingers.

“Zay–uh, the money? Please… I’m only going to try something, I promise I'll pay you back.” the rest of his speech left out in a mutter as his eyes stayed locked on the pretty girl on his screen.

Zayne sighed and shook his head in disbelief, “Fine, this is a one time thing though, don't ask me again.”

Caleb nodded and the door clicked shut behind him.

Oh he was so going to enjoy this.

—

Caleb knew he shouldn’t have watched practically every single one of your videos in one night. Though he did hold himself back and saved just a couple for the next day, he still wanted to see more of his faceless girl.

But after binging most of your videos he found out your schedule and thank god Zayne introduced him to this site a day before your next stream was going to happen.

Caleb draped his coat over his shoulder as he was texting Zayne about the payment, all he needed to do was spoil and support you.

There was a thing on the site where whoever has the most total donations from their streams gets to be on a leaderboard, you were just at the top 2, nearing to number one, and Caleb needed to change that immediately.

Eventually, Caleb made it to work. He got a small payment from Zayne and smiled at his phone, but was way too distracted to see where he was going and bumped into someone, his coat falling to the ground as he repeatedly apologized to the person he bumped into.

But when he peered his eyes up and noticed you standing there, staring down at him with a menacing look, Caleb rolled his eyes.

“Hey pipsqueak.” He mocked, throwing his coat over your head as he guided you to the elevator. Your hand swats his away as you both step in the elevator, clicking the button to your floor and stand in awkward silence.

“You look beat, what did you do last night?” A hint of teasingness laced your voice which only caused Caleb to glare at you in response.

The elevator doors slid open, Caleb grabbed his coat which was resting on your head, and walked out the elevator. He immediately headed over to his cubicle and rested his face in his palms, he already missed his faceless girl.

As he was resting, a tap on his shoulder jolted him from his daze, he sighed and turned his head to whoever interrupted him, but groaned in annoyance when he saw you. You were staring down at him with your arms crossed, acting like he already knew what you were going to ask–but no, he didn’t.

“What is it?” Caleb muttered, averting his gaze away from you as he suddenly put all his focus on his monitor in front of him. His fingers danced around his mouse as he scrolled through hundreds of emails.

“Do you have the file for next week?”

“Zayne got them, but i'll ask him to not give ‘em to you.” he grinned, leaning back on his chair as he peered his violet eyes at you. A scoff escaped your lips and you turned away and walked over to Zayne’s cubicle.

Caleb's eyes widened and he sprung off his chair, following you. When you reached him, Caleb immediately budded in and shook his head at Zayne who had the files resting on his desk. You gave Caleb a dirty look and pushed him aside, asking Zayne for the files.

“Why don't you do it yourself.” Caleb striked.

“Why did Zayne get your copy then?” you cross your arms and stare at him with a raised eyebrow, the look on your face was way too threatening for Caleb to disregard your words. He sighed in annoyance and pinched the bridge of his nose, glancing at Zayne then back at you.

“That's because he gave me something in return.”

“Ooh, that's why you were so beat this morning, hm? I wonder wha–”

“Watch your mouth, pips.”

“Whatever, just give me the file.”

“No.” Caleb reached for the file on Zayne’s desk and walked back to his cubicle with it. He heard your footsteps growing louder behind him and before Caleb could put it back in his drawer, a hand clasped onto it and took it away from him.

“Give it ba–” before he could finish his sentence he turned around to be met with nobody in front of him. He marched around the whole office to try to find you and when you were nowhere in sight, he started to ask the people around where you could've gone.

But after getting no answers from anybody, Caleb sighed in annoyance and headed to the bathroom. His walk there was just as worse as not finding you. Before he could place his hand on the doorknob, someone from behind hopped on him which caused Caleb to flinch dramatically.

“Finally.” He muttered, slowly snaking his hands along your arms which were wrapped around his waist and in a quick movement he flipped you over, pinning you to the wall. His face was just centimeters away from you, neither of you moved, just stared into each other's eyes.

But Caleb's eyes purposely snake down your figure, his eyes lingering on your cleavage for a second before averting his gaze even lower. There was just some familiar feeling he had when he looked at your body but he just couldn't pinpoint what it was.

“Caleb?” you whisper, your eyes stayed locked on his. Caleb shook his head and pulled away, his fingers still rested on your arm before tracing along it, your soft fabric meddled with his cold fingertips before his fingers stopped in place when he felt a bracelet seam imprinted through your sleeve.

Before he could slide his fingers under your sleeve, your eyes widened in panic and you gave the file back to him before running back to the office.

Weird.

—

Once work was over you immediately rushed back to your house, there was just an hour left before your stream and your worst nightmare happened.

You couldnt find your fucking mask.

You practically searched every crevice of your apartment, checking under the sofa, your bed, the blankets, practically everywhere. but the mask was nowhere to be found.

You sigh, clasping your palms on the edge of your desk as you stared at your monitor in disbelief. You glance around your room one more time and soon grab your coat resting on your chair and leave your apartment.

You walked over to the closest store nearby, skimming your eyes along the mask aisle and picked out the first nicest looking mask you saw. You rushed to the cashier and placed the mask on the table before reaching in your purse and grabbed your card.

You eventually paid for your things and left.

Once you got home you got your things ready and sat in your chair–with your new mask–and hover your cursor over the start stream button and eventually click it.

You sat back on your chair as you started to watch the chat roll in, a bunch of people were already asking where your old mask went but you shrugged and told everyone you couldn’t find it.

Once a decent amount of people joined, your fingers rested on the strap of your shirt and you rolled your fingers around it, “hundred dollars this is getting off” you tease, and not even a second later a man under the name ‘c.lovesapples’ sent the first hundred with a little message attached to the donation.

c.lovesapples: this is my first time on your stream i hope you enjoy :p

You chuckle at the message, but also the username, what a stupid username. But you gave your promise and slid your top off, immediately clasping your cold palm on your tit, sliding your fingers between your perked up nipple, pinching and teasing it.

A quiet whimper escaped your lips and you bit your lip to contain your noises, continuing to play with yourself when another donation brings you back to reality. You peer your head at the chat and the same man who sent the hundred dollars, sends another donation with a follow-up message.

c.lovesapples sent $200: touch yourself?

“Think it's that easy?” you grin, but still linger one of your hands down your body, ghosting your fingers along the waistband of your shorts, then a loud donation sound makes you flinch and you glance back at the screen with widened eyes.

c.lovesapples sent $1000: satisfied? i was gonna save the rest for later but i really want to see you :(

Your mouth opens in a small ‘o’ shape and you couldn’t even bring yourself to utter anything. Instead, you listen to the man's request and slide your fingers under your shorts, slowly pulling them down before you were left in just your panties on display for everybody.

You slid a finger under your panties, rubbing your clit in a slow motion, head jerking back before you sunk a finger in your soaking entrance, your fingers working in a quick movement, letting pleasure blind you from the situation going on. You eventually add another finger, your digits fucking your sensitive cunt soo well, a loud moan echoed through the room.

“F-fuck.. You really know how to get me to give in–ngh so easily?” you peered your eyes at the chat, and even though it was going way too quick you couldn't help but only notice c.lovesapples’s comment.

c.lovesapples: anything for you. now look at where you are now :)

Confused, you glance at your whole screen trying to see what he meant by ‘where you are now’ and couldn't notice anything until a gold badge next to your username sparked and you were number 1?!

“wha–hngh” you curl your finger, letting pleasure rush through you as you soon ride out your orgasm in pure shock. A loud whine escaped your lips and you slump down your chair, panting heavily as more donations and chats started to roll in.

“Thank you…” you mumble, adjusting the mask on your face as you slowly get up from your seat and lean in closer to the monitor.

When you finish the stream, out of curiosity you head over to c.lovesapples’s profile but were met with disappointment when it was a blank page, no profile picture, no bio, no name, nothing. You sigh and plop your head on your desk, trying to think of a way to thank him.

And then an idea clicked, why not he come over to your next stream?

Your fingers immediately rest on your keyboard and you start typing away, writing a slightly convincing message that you hope he would fall for. And not even five minutes passed and you already got a response from him.

c.lovesapples: really? :O

c.lovesapples: i mean, sure.. send your address and i’ll be there on wednesday ;)

You sent him a couple messages back which eventually led to you sending your address. You were surprised how quick he agreed to meeting up with you, especially since this was his first time even joining one of your streams.

You shut your computer, cleaned up, and went to bed, dreading the Wednesday that was about to come.

—

As Wednesday rolled along, Caleb was geeked the second he woke up, he got up extra early for work, and pampered himself like crazy in the morning. He just couldn't believe that his faceless girl reached out to him just like that.

And now that you were number one, that was one thing checked off of Caleb's list, now the second thing—which he just added—was to fuck you!

As Caleb walked into work he ignored everyone who greeted him and pretended to focus on his work so the time could go by quicker.

As he was drowned in emails upon emails a cling sound fell near him and Caleb glanced down at the ground when he saw a bracelet resting on the ground, he turned his chair and saw you come close to his desk.

“Dropped something, pips?” Caleb chuckled and picked up your bracelet. He swirled the material around his fingers and when he noticed the design his eyes widened.

“Caleb, give it back—ungh” before you could finish speaking, Caleb grabbed onto your wrists and dragged you to a secluded hallway, his fingers gripping tight on the bracelet before he shoved you against the wall.

A thud echoed through the hallway and you wink up at Caleb while scratching the back of your head, a look of confusion filled your eyes and you reached for the bracelet still dangling along his fingers.

But he pulled away before you could grab it, Caleb leaned in his lips inches–centimeters away from yours, your shaky breath ghosted against Caleb’s skin and he slid the bracelet along his wrist.

“So you it's you…” he breathed, sliding his fingers through your soft hair, pulling you closer. You gulp and flicker your gaze from his lips to his eyes, and before you could ask him something, Caleb crashed his lips on yours.

“Save it.” he mumbled against your mouth, slicking his tongue against your soft lips before sliding it in your mouth, meeting his tongue with yours. He worked himself against your lips, practically devoured you like he hasn't eaten for years.

Caleb pulled away, his cheeks burning up by the second, he leaned in for another kiss but you pressed your finger on his lips, pushing him back before you asked him the same question you've been trying to ask before.

Caleb chuckled and rested his forehead on your shoulder, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, the tension radiated off the two of you, leaving you to instinctively give in and hug him back.

“Why’d you waste your money on me?”

“I dont know..” he mumbled, pulling away and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. The grip was tightening and Caleb started dragging you out of the hallway, eventually leading you out of the office building.

“Cal–where are we going?” you chuckle awkwardly, turning your head as you look back at the building door then back at Caleb, who was already shoving you inside his car.

“To start your stream, just a little earlier.”

—

It wasn't even a second you stepped into the house, and Caleb already had you slammed against your desk, his needy lips found yours, devouring you like an animal. His hand reaches the bottom of your computer, clicking a button, making the computer flash on.

A bright white light illuminated the room and Caleb still had his mouth on yours, he winked open an eye and peered his gaze to the lockscreen, you noticed his violet iris glistening in the dark and Caleb soon pulled away, asking you for the password.

You give him your password and dart your tongue on his neck, sucking and nibbling on it. A shuddered breath escaped Caleb's lips and his grip grew tighter on you, the feeling of his fingertips digging deep against your plush hips made you squirm beneath him.

Caleb eventually logged into your computer, he grabbed onto your face and without warning, he smashed his lips on yours again, his bodyweight started to push against you, as he started devouring you again. You notice his other hand–still on the mouse, move around as he started to click random buttons and, fuck.

He already started the stream.

“Caleb! My mask–hngh”

Caleb ignored your words and slid you off the desk as his mouth was still on yours, you felt him slide his fingers up your shirt, the feeling of his rough, cold fingertips grazing against your warm skin, which made you shudder in pleasure.

He pulled away for a minute, just to stare into your eyes before the sound of a riipp echoed through the room and your shirt was already torn up, and thrown on the ground. Caleb's hands immediately wrap around your tits before he flipped you over in a quick movement, making you face the camera as he had his hands all over you.

“Mmph–” you felt his fingers lower down your body, playing with the waistband of your pants, but instead of pulling them down, you felt his large presence shadow over you before his bright, violet eyes glistened at the chat.

“Hundred dollars and this is getting off.” he smirked, tugging at the fabric which caused a yelp to leave your lips. You glance up at the screen and notice a bunch of people sending hundreds of dollars. This was unusual for you, you would usually get way less than that, maybe it's ‘cause Caleb was here?

A menacing chuckle left Caleb’s lips and he slid your pants down in a quick movement. You were now left bare n’ exposed in front of everyone and you slam your head on the desk to cover your face, in embarrassment.

Caleb traced his fingers down your body, those same fingers eventually found their way to your soaking cunt and Caleb rubbed a slow motion against your twitchy clit, you clenched your thighs between him and a grunt left his lips.

“Relax, pips.”

You moan in response and a loud ding brings you back to reality, you peer your eyes at the screen and your eyes widen in shock.

thebestartist sent $500: gotta do more than that ^^

“Yeah? What d’ya think?” Caleb leaned in, his hot breath ghosted over your skin, you mutter something incoherent under your breath and that just made Caleb chuckle.

His fingers curled inside you, a loud, broken moan left your lips and you grip onto the desk tighter. Caleb’s fingers slick out of you and he aligned himself against you.

You felt the feeling of his rough fabric play against your sensitive skin, he continued to grind himself against you, stimulating you in any way possible, and it clearly was working.

“Want it?”

“Y-Yes!” You gulped the lump that was creeping up your throat and Caleb nodded, pulling away and zipping his pants down, you glanced at the chat which was going crazy and also notice the unreasonable donations rolling in.

“Too much..” you mutter, catching your breath, but before you could finish what you were saying you felt Caleb’s hard, leaking tip slick inside your entrance.

“Wha-”

“Did you guys know she’s my coworker?” Caleb said, thrusting more inches deep inside you, you rolled your eyes back and plop your head against the desk when you felt him sink deeper and deeper inside you.

“I’m not—ngh sure if we hated each other, but we never g-got…fuck…”

Caleb grit his teeth and grabbed onto the sides of your body, ramming himself in you in an arrhythmic pattern, you felt your head bob back and forth, your moans started sounding ragged, broken, and real.

Caleb grinned as he lifted your hips, elevating you in a perfect angle so he could hit the perfect spots, and he did exactly that.

“But we never got along, r-right?”

You shook your head, not because you were disagreeing with what he said—well you completely forgot what he said—but because you realized you were already creeping close to release.

With the man you hated.

Well it wasn’t even hate anymore, was it? You didn’t expect Caleb to be hitting every right spot, making you feel this good.

“C-Caleb I’m ugh!”

Caleb only hummed in response, his large length stretched you out, sounds of him slicking in and out of you, and loud moans filled the room.

Your legs shake in pleasure and before you could warn Caleb that you were going to cum, you already felt the pleasure pooling out of you. A mocking chuckle escaped Caleb’s lips and he gulped at the sight.

“D-damn it…” he whimpered, glancing at the screen where the chat was going absolutely crazy and the donations were still stacking up by the second.

thecrow: nice.

imamfstarboy: U looks so pretty.

A groveling groan left Caleb's lips when he realized he was close, he muttered curses under his breath before leaning in and grabbing onto the mouse.

A loud clang of your bracelet hitting the table made you flinch and before you could ask what he was doing, Caleb pushed his full length inside you making you moan in shock, an expression he’s never seen before plastered all over your face and that caused a reaction out of Caleb.

“Y-you’re so beautifu—nghh” with a click of the mouse the stream ended and you pant heavily, catching your breath. Caleb was still trapped inside you, and you felt him slowly pull out of you, sounds of his and your slick drooled out of you and you plop on your knees when a small pop escaped out of you.

“Was that good?” Caleb chuckled, leaning in and planted small kisses across your face. You stare at him, the shock still sparked in your eyes and you couldn’t even bring yourself to say anything.

“Let’s get cleaned c’mon, baby.”

—

Both you and Caleb walked into work at the same time the next day. He stood close behind you, ghosting his hand along your back as he followed you in the office.

And immediately everybody; especially Zayne, noticed what was going on. Caleb chuckled and walked over to his cubicle and gave Zayne the files back.

“I can’t believe that faceless girl was her.” He laughed and slammed the files on the table, resting against the wall with crossed arms.

“Yeah… I checked out her stream last night and didn’t expect you to be there..” Zayne mumbled, his finger resting on his chin as he rubbed circular motions on it.

“Wait you were in the stream wha-“

“Time to pay back the thousands of dollars you gave her, Caleb. And also—”

Caleb only rolled his eyes in response and lifted himself off the wall, walking away from Zayne before he could hear more of his rambling.

“These are the wrong files.” Zayne mumbled.

part 3 of fly into your heart | caleb -> next work

[yena-enha]

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟗, 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 - 𝐋𝐇𝐒

A sequel to ‘2019, Maybe’ (Touch this text to read 2019,Maybe)

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆──────────────────────────────⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Warning - Angst, emotional baggage, breakup aftermath, grief, slow reconciliation, emotional vulnerability, implied mental health struggles, eventual healing and romance

Note - SFW ANGST & FLUFF CONTENT

Genre - Second-chance romance, angst, slice of life, soft drama

Pairing - Lee Heeseung x Fem!Reader

Song Inspiration - Dream BY LISA

Word Count - 2,300 words

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“Whenever I close my eyes, it’s taking me back in time,

Drowning in dreams lately, like it’s 2019, baby.

I look at your picture and I smile,

It makes me rewind my mind,

‘Cause in the end, you saved me.

Now it’s 2029, baby.”

----

Heeseung doesn't come home at 2:37 a.m. anymore.

Because it's been almost five years since he had a home to come back to.

Since he dropped his keys on your counter, peeled off his hoodie like the weight of the world sat in its seams, and moved through your apartment like a stranger with memorized steps.

Since you laid in bed, blinking through the dark while his breath filled the silence you used to share.

Since you told him, "I don't think I can keep doing this," and he answered, "I know."

Since he left.

And you let him.

You thought that was the end of your story.

Until today.

---

It's late April 2029, and the rain falls the same way it used to. Soft taps on the cafe windows, mist clinging to the glass like unspoken things.

You hadn't planned to come. You haven't been here in years. Not since you buried that version of yourself—the girl who used to wait across this table for a boy with stars in his eyes and music in his bones.

But you're early for your 4:00 p.m. client. And something pulls you here like muscle memory. Like grief still has a pulse.

The bell above the door rings as you enter. The place hasn't changed. Same scratched-up tables. Same amber glow of lamps. Same faint scent of cinnamon and espresso.

You sit at the same table. Without thinking.

You used to sit here on Sundays when Heeseung was still a trainee, all nerves and neon dreams. He'd scribble lyrics on napkins and hold your hand under the table like it grounded him.

Back then, he kissed you like he had nothing but time.

You're stirring your drink when he walks in.

You don't see him at first. Just the familiar chime of the bell. The hush of rain. And then—the silence that stretches taut when your eyes meet.

Heeseung.

Older now. But unmistakably him. Hair darker. Hoodie oversized. The same way he used to wear it when he wanted to disappear into a crowd.

He freezes. Then walks over.

You both speak at the same time.

"This was our table."

A pause. A breath. A ghost of a smile.

"Mind if I sit?"

You shake your head. "Go ahead."

You don't talk. Not at first. Not for days.

You both keep coming back. You sit across from each other. Order the same drinks.

Heeseung still hums under his breath. You still take your coffee too sweet.

He opens his book but never reads it. You bring your case notes but never write.

You just exist—two people haunting the same past.

Until one day, he speaks.

"I teach now," he says quietly, staring at the foam in his latte. "Vocal coach. I work with trainees. Sometimes idols too."

You nod. "Therapist. Clinic on 6th. Specialize in burnout. And grief."

He looks at you then. Really looks.

"Grief, huh?"

You nod. "It sticks around."

He nods too. "Yeah. It does."

---

Over the next few weeks, the silence turns to soft chatter.

Heeseung tells you about the boy he mentors who reminds him of himself. You tell him about the client who writes poetry instead of speaking.

You both laugh again.

Not like you used to.

Softer. Fragile. Like muscle memory stretching after disuse.

You learn he never dated anyone seriously after you. He learns you stopped believing in forever.

You fall back in love like waves against a worn shore.

In glances. In shared silence. In remembering how his fingers used to play with the sleeves of your cardigan when he was nervous.

One evening, as the cafe empties, he touches your hand.

Just a brush.

You don't pull away.

---

October 18th comes. The date you never say out loud.

You arrive at the cafe. He's already there.

A tiny bouquet of forget-me-nots sits on the table.

Heeseung looks up, eyes glassy.

"I know this day probably means nothing now. But it used to. To me. To us."

You sit down slowly. Words caught behind your ribs.

He breathes in like he’s steadying a tremble.

"I think about that morning a lot. The last one. You offered me breakfast. I said I didn’t have time."

You remember it too. The way his arms felt more like routine than comfort. The way he said, "I love you," like it was an afterthought.

"I knew I was losing you," he whispers. "And I didn’t fight. I chose silence. I chose my dream."

Your throat tightens.

"I used to believe in that dream like it was mine too," you say softly.

Heeseung looks down.

"You were never just a chapter, you know? You were the story. And I... I threw it away."

You don’t say anything for a long time.

Then:

"I’m still trying to forgive you."

His head lifts. He looks at you like he's breathing for the first time in years.

"Then I’ll wait. As long as it takes."

And that’s how it begins again.

Not in declarations. But in promises born from truth.

---

Forehead kisses come first. Tentative. Grateful.

Then laughter. Your first real one since that night in 2024.

Then the way he pulls your chair out. How he walks on the outside of the sidewalk. How he still plays with your fingers like they're notes he's learning again.

One night, in the soft glow of your apartment, he kisses you.

Really kisses you.

Not like a boy chasing dreams.

But like a man who found his way home.

---

He proposes on a quiet Sunday. Same table. Same coffee.

No speech. Just a velvet box. A scribbled note:

"Maybe I outgrew the dream. But I never outgrew you."

You say yes through tears.

---

The aisle is short. But the moment feels infinite.

Heeseung cries before you even reach him.

Your hand trembles in his.

When it's time for vows, he breaks.

"I left you when you needed me most. I chose ambition over presence. And yet you still let me in again. You loved me through the ruin."

His voice cracks.

"This time, I vow to stay. To listen. To hold you when you're tired. To fight when it's hard. To never let silence be louder than love."

Tears stream down your face. You nod.

When the officiant says kiss, he doesn’t hesitate.

Your lips meet.

And this time, there's no distance. No silence.

Just you and Heeseung.

And the home you built between heartbreak and healing.

His forehead presses to yours.

You close your eyes.

You were his dream outgrown.

He was your heart, still.

Now, you are each other's again.

In 2029, Probably

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You guys asked for a sequel, so here it is (with a happy ending ofc)

«Masterlist || Introduction»

Taglist» (open) @strxwbloody

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[classica-meretrix]

i love your writing!!!! could i perhaps request a mortal friends to lovers leo valdez x reader au?? like they're both at college, leo takes mec eng(obviously lol) and reader takes psychology and it's just painful fluff with mutual pining losers with smut when they end up sleeping together after a super romcom dramatic like confession from leo?? lol sorry for the big ass text i'm just way into romcoms rn😅 (also subby leo lmao)

thank you so much for the request, love! leo is so fun to write for, and I ended up making this a two parter, so stay tuned for next week!

Are You Mad?

pt1, pt2

pairing: mortal leo valdez x fem!reader genre: fluff content/warnings: couldn't help but add some greek references lol, readers in denial, hoo friend group, dramatic love confession of course summary: you and leo end up as best friends after a chance collision, but soon it looks like it might be more a/n: I'm so excited to write the part 2 for this. should probably be out next thursday!

I tossed my empty cup into a trash can as I passed, trying to shuffle through the stack of papers and folders stacked in my arms with only one hand. At this point I was only half convinced I'd finished that paper, and if I didn't find it before I got Mr. Whitman's class, I was as good as dead.

Just as I thought I saw the header of the essay I had been searching for, I collided with something hard, and all my papers flew out of my arms, littering the sidewalk.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," the guy hurried out, immediately ducking down to collect my mess. All I could see of him from this angle was a mess of black curls, and the back of a beat up Carhartt jacket.

"No, no, that was on me. I wasn't looking where I was going." I grabbed as many of the papers as I could, attempting to put them back in a neat stack. "I was trying to find an essay."

"This one?" he asked, looking up. I was met with warm chocolate brown eyes, leaving me stunned for a moment. He had picked up a thin stack that had been stapled together at the corner, holding it at an awkward angle to read the title. "The Self: Human Nature or All in Our Heads?"

"Yep. That's the one." I had gathered myself enough to answer with a shy smile.

"Psychology?" he continued with a mischievous looking grin, handing over the last few rogue papers.

"Second year."

"Me too!" he said enthusiastically. "I mean—second year, not psych. I'm mechanical engineering."

"That's my roommates major! She loves it, but I've never been able to follow it much."

"It's not too hard once you get the hang of it. I'm Leo, by the way."

"It's nice to meet you! I'd shake your hand, but I'd probably drop all this again."

"We wouldn't want that," he laughed.

Just as I was about to make another comment, I caught a glance of his watch. "Shit. I'm gonna be late. It was lovely to talk to you, hope to see you around," I called over my shoulder as I hurried off to my class.

"That's the second time today!" Percy yelled, hopping up from his seat, the front of his shirt and pants soaked. "Why can't this shit be waterproof or something?"

"Sorry, man," Leo apologized, though his teasing tone and proud smile suggested otherwise.

As soon as Percy was out of the dorm room, hurrying off to change, Jason turned to his friend. "You've got to stop doing that," he laughed. "I think he's almost at the breaking point."

Leo shrugged, turning his attention back to me. I was laid in his bed on my stomach as he sat on the floor, resting his chin on the edge of the mattress.

"What was I saying?" he asked, his nose scrunching adorably.

"Those... Sphere thingies."

"Right!" he said, his eyes lighting up. "Archimedes' spheres. We were talking about them in class today. I mean, he had some crazy ideas, but these things were just wild. They're way too complicated. Those things would never work. They don't even know what half of them are supposed to do."

"He sounds rather ambitious. Like someone else I know," I responded, gently tapping the end of his nose. He scrunched it again at my actions, making me what to repeat my actions a thousand times over.

What the hell are you doing? Snap out of it.

I pulled my hand back to my side as he went on, rambling about the impossibility of the inventions. We were only a few inches away from each other, his chin on the edge of the bed and mine resting on the back of my palm, but neither of us seemed to notice the proximity.

How the hell I ended up in this position, I couldn't really tell you. It was probably Percy's stupid idea to come to this stupid party.

Leo was across the room, talking to some girl, and for some reason I couldn't pinpoint, I was pissed about it. Part of myself was saying he's just talking to some girl, what's the big deal? But another—much louder—part of me wanted to scream at how close they were, talking maybe a few inches apart at most, and neither had looked up for six minutes and fifty-two seconds. Not that I was counting. What has gotten into me?

I eventually tore my eyes away from them, afraid I'd make myself sick if I stared at them any longer. Set on searching out Annabeth, I took off into the crowd, eventually finding her in the kitchen, tucked under Percy's arm.

"I'm gonna head out."

Her expression immediately turned to worry as she saw my own. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" I answered, though my words came out sharp and uncomfortable, clearly not convincing either of us.

"I'll go with you."

"No, really. Percy's way too drunk to be left with the boys." My excuse was true, he was slurring aggressively, telling an overly exaggerated story.

"Jason isn't drinking, he'll be fine."

"Really," I tried again, practically pleading. I was more eager than ever now to get out of there, my skin heating to an unbearable temperature in time I'd be standing there.

She hesitated, studying me. "Fine. But text me as soon as your back in the dorm. Kay?"

"Mhm," I nodded, immediately ducking towards the door. I was eager for the fresh air, but as soon as I pushed my way outside I was pelted with thick, cold rain drops. Great.

I tried to ignore my shivering, tugging off my heels to avoid slipping. I was halfway home when my phone started ringing, playing the custom ringtone Leo had insisted I used for his contact. I hurriedly ignored it, fumbling with my heels and the slippery screen, but just as soon as I had put my phone away, it was blaring again.

"For fuck's sake!" I yelled, scrambling to clear it again.

'Where are you?' his text read. 'Are you okay?' 'Answer me please.'

"Give it up," I muttered angrily, shoving my phone into my bag. I had just made it to my building when an all too familiar voice came from somewhere behind me through the heavy patter of rain.

"Thank God! Are you okay?"

"Would everyone stop asking that?" I snapped, spinning around to face him. Leo was climbing out of his cherry red Cadillac he'd fixed up, hurrying over to me.

"I thought something had happened to you? Why didn't you answer my calls or texts?" His eyes quickly scanned over me, taking in the thin dress sticking to my skin, heels in one hands, and arms wrapped tightly around myself as I shivered violently. "You're shaking. Take my jacket," he started, shrugging off his coat.

I brushed him off, ignoring his attempts. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What? I'm making sure you're okay. You shouldn't be walking home by yourself at two in the morning. Please, take the jacket."

"No."

"Are you mad at me or something?"

"Yes! No... I–I don't know! Can you just leave me alone?" I angrily pleaded. His expression was somewhere between confused and hurt, the arm holding his jacket now hanging by his side. "Shouldn't you be off with some little blonde?"

That comment struck a chord, only deepening his confusion. "No?" he said, almost as more of a question. "Are you mad about me talking to a girl?"

"I don't want to talk about this!" I yelled back, desperately wanting to get out of the heavy rain. I could practically feel the cold in my bones, and my clothes were clinging to me uncomfortably.

"I do," he pouted, looking like a kicked puppy. His curls were matted down on his forehead, his grease-stained t-shirt sticking to his skin, and his jacket hanging limping at his side, not bothering to put it back on.

"What is there to talk about? I'm soaking wet, cold, and tired, I don't want to talk about some skank at a frat party!"

"Are you jealous or something?" He had begun to raise his voice, from a mix of the loud rain and aggravation.

"Maybe I am!" I yelled in response. "Is that what you want to hear?"

"Yes," he answered, not skipping a beat.

I was too stunned to answer him, the anger suddenly leaving me. The image of us yelling at each other in the rain about something so simple suddenly seemed absurd, and I was frantically trying to figure out how we had ended up here. I was just beginning to realize I may feel something different for my best friend, and here he was saying he might feel the same.

He stared at me for what felt like forever, until I managed to croak out a barely audible, "What?"

"I like you. Hell, if we're being honest, I think I'm in love with you."

His big brown eyes watched me with no expectation, just observing. I realized he wasn't waiting for me to say it back, or even acknowledge it, he was just... watching me process.

Before I knew what I was doing I had thrown my heels to the ground, launching myself at him. I pressed my lips against his as I threaded my fingers through his soaked curls. Leo's hands instinctively found my waist, tugging me closer.

His teeth tugged my bottom lip, nipping me before his tongue darted out to lick across the area in a soothing manner. I tugged his hair at the action, silently praising him.

I pulled away breathlessly, trying to get even closer to him. "You're so warm," I muttered against his lips. My shivering had decreased significantly since he'd wrapped his arms around me.

"Let's get you inside." My only option for a response was a mindless nod, before returning to his lips.

[houseofshy]

My First Offering - An Embroidery

This is the jeans jacket I hand embroidered for the Sleep Token concert back in December 2024.

The project took me about 6 months to complete, with a longer break in between.

It was quite a process, which I will describe below, if anyone is interested in that. If there are still questions, don't hesitate to reach out and I will answer to the best of my abilities, as I am by no means a professional :D

So. It started out as a little thought. I have that old jeans jacket collecting dust in my closet, and I want to upgrade that. Said, done.

I get a cheap pack of embroidery needles, even cheaper embroidery floss (which I regretted at one point, but I will explain that later on) and an old embroidery frame from my mother-in-law.

And then it was go time.

I started tracing the big logo in the middle. Seeing as I have absolutely no talent in drawing, I'm very glad that tracing on a tablet is an option :)

Printing that out, I taped the shape to the middle of the back piece and drew along the rim with a heaterasable pen. You can get that at any store that sells those pens with a rubber tip to erase the ink :D

After that, I set out to embroider the entire logo. It is made entirely with a satin stitch.

If there is any interest, I can explain different stitches in a seperate post :)

That took about 2-3 weeks to finish, as I work full-time, and weekends sometimes as well. Also, let's be real, I was so very slow ! But when I finished, I was so proud of myself, as it was my very first piece.

But ever the over achiever, I let it sit for a few days, before I thought "I can do more."

So, back to planning.

I sampled a lot of patterns and decided for this. It looked cool, but I wasn't sure I would complete it in time.

However, my mom did a lot of things wrong, but she didn't raise a quitter, so I got my shit together and started this enourmous project.

I ordered transfer paper online and printed everything out on there. It sticks to the material, and you can embroider on it and wash it off when you are finished.

I started with the more simple patterns, as the glyphs or the vines. Looked pretty solid, and I was extremely satisfied with my work, as well as my gained skill and haste.

Now that was the problem.

It looked so pretty at this point to me, that I was afraid of messing it up, so I fell into a bad headspace and stopped working on it for at least 8 weeks.

By now, it was end of July, so time was running out fast, considering the biggest part, the mirrored roses, still had to be done.

I got my shit back together thanks to my bestie, and started a trail run for colour scheme.

I was so happy that it looked exaktly like I imagined, and got motivation from that.

ADHD hyperfocus ON !

So I embroidered...

And embroidered (with some cat cuddles)..

And I was finally done !!

Only to realise that I have to do it ALL again on the other side !

I was about to cry, because just one single double coloured rose head took about 5-6 hours to make.

One entire rose side took me 4 weeks to finish D:

So, in the warm summer evenings, I sat on the balcony and got to work.

At least I knew what to do now and didn't have to think about that anymore.

No think, just stitch.

And one month later, I was actually finished !!

By the end of September I was done, thankfully much earlier than anticipated.

Now I simply had to wash off the water dissolvable transfer paper.

I did handwash it, but there was some glue residue left, so I had to bite the bullet and put it in the washer.

Those thirty-something minutes were terror. I was afraid the stitches won't hold, or the residue won't come off.

But thankfully, it was alright, and I let it dry out in the sun.

Now I wear that jacket whenever I can !! I love it so much.

I got quite a few compliments, especially at the London gig.

But the best one was when I went shopping for more high quality floss in a local craft store, and older lady complimented the jacket, and told me she was happy that the youth keeps things like that alive.

So, I made it a permanent hobby and already started another project on here that I will want to update regularly.

Thank you for reading, and feel free to ask away :D

Ps.: If you read this far, maybe leave a humble like or reblog ? <3

Thank you; A. \(^o^)/

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Mr. Barnes Pt.2

Bucky Barnes x reader [pt.1]

The new guy at Sam's meetings is still a hot topic among the library staff, Mister Barnes finally gets a first name.

1.3k A short one this time but this was the best place to divide the story into chapters

Single dad Bucky, librarian reader, Sam still has his counceling job. Imagine John didn't absolutely fuck up and is currently being a decent Cap somewhere in the background.

You felt relieved when the day was over and you could free yourself from the endless begging. Sadly it didn't stop once you stepped back into the building the next day.

"Come on, pleeeasee!" Your coworker had her upper body hanging across the table as she pleaded with you to talk about what you heard during the meeting. Not that you were going to share. Why would you? It wasn't even planned that you caught someone speaking when you brought the food over, which was already an exception. Everyone knew the rules that were set in place during the meetings due to privacy reasons.

The whole ordeal lasted a week, all the way up to the next meeting when, as usual, all the staff was huddled and 'working' in the main area to catch a glimpse of the Sergeant walking in.

Except he never showed.

Sam had come in to start setting up, but his friend was not with him. Neither was he among the veterans that came trickling in, enjoying a fresh cup of coffee or just chat among each other before the meeting. Ten minutes after the start of it all your coworkers had disappeared back to actually doing work seeing their eyecandy wasn’t showing up today.

After the meeting ended Sam passed by to say hi and went on his way like he alwayd did, but with the object of everyone's obsession not being around, no one was near the front desk to say hi back besides you, who had taken the spot because no one else wanted to.

Of course they didn't. There was no pretty ex-soldier to drool over for all but ten seconds, so they all rather busy themselves elsewhere.

It wasn't until three weeks later that he showed up again and the whole place was in shambles over it.

It was also the first time Sergeant Barnes truly acknowledged the gaggle of women obsessively staring at him.

A look in their direction and a soft smile was all it took to have them stumbling over words, dropping books and tripping over air in his presence.

Truly, it was hilarious to see grown women turn into mush from one simple smile, but you weren’t immune to it either. The words you were so profesionally typing into the outgoing email had turned into gibberish when your eyes fell on the handsome Sergeant and his magazine cover worthy smile.

"Buck,” Sam fell into step beside him. “please do me a favor and keep the usual charm hidden. Don't give them ideas." He put a hand on his friend's shoulder when the meeting had ended and they found themselves in the main area once again. "Don't get me wrong, it's good to see you're out of the house and interacting with people. I just don't want them stalking you even more than they already do."

"They're stalking me? I think I would have noticed.." Bucky shrugged at his friend's advice as he hung his bike helmet over his forearm, giving his friend a sceptical look.

"Oh believe me.” Sam raised his brows and nodded toward the women now suddenly very busy in their respective corners. “They spent the last three weeks glued to the entrance waiting for your leather clad ass to show up and later on whining to me about where you were, like they were concerned for you instead of just missing their eye candy." He made his point clear by giving Bucky a once-over, looking him up and down.

"Really? I'm home taking care of Maxie and the librarians are asking for me?” To say Bucky was confused would have been an understatement. “They know why I'm coming to these meetings, right? I mean, they'd probably run off the second they hear me talk in there."

Sam and Bucky shared some laughs before making their way out of the building. This time Bucky listened to his friend and only nodded kindly at the women who waved them off as Sam bid them a good day with grand gestures.

You were crouched behind the front desk when the bell above you chimed, announcing a person needing your assistance stood on the other end. With a groan you made your way back up slowly and were met with the bluest eyes once you made it back to a standing position.

"Oh.” Shit. “H.. hi Sergeant. What can I help you with?" Lords, that was a dumb question to ask. He had a book laying on the counter, ready to be checked out.

A copy of The Hobbit sat before you, mocking you.

"The Hobbit, huh." You quickly mutter to distract from your previous question. "You like fantasy novels?" God that was stupid, of course he did. He’s checking out The Hobbit, for christ’s sake.

A soft hum and a nod was all you got as answer while he was busy fishing his card from a worn leather wallet attached to his belt loop by a silver chain. The wallet was a simple one, nothing fancy or fashion-forward. It was purely practical, probably because of his soldier background he felt that functionality was mkre important than looks.

"Here." Sergeant ...James, according to his library card, sighed quietly at the sight of the piece of plastic.

"Thank you, James." You tried to stay professional with the handsome soldier before you, taking the card from him and holding it to the reader. It beeped as the screen displayed his account, having you furrow your brows in confusion.

"Huh, that's strange.." Mumbling mostly to yourself as you are interrupted by James asking what was wrong, watching you with brows raised in wonder.

"I guess it must be an error. The system has your age set as one hundred and seven." The little huffed laugh at the end did nothing to mask the awkwardness, but luckily James shrugged it off.

"Oh yeah, ignore that.” His eyes didn’t meet yours as he spoke, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his glove. Shit, the gloves. She probably found them weird as hell. ‘Who wears gloves in summer, Buck? No one.’ “The lady who put in my account messed up so it's like that now." He hated it. He hated that when he got all his new cards they had his actual date of birth on it. He hated having to come up with lies to make it all sound normal. Luckily he was used to making up excuses about it by now, so he wouldn’t have to tell the pretty, kind librarian that he was in fact a world war two veteran slash ex-assassin.

“wait,” After a beat of silence you spoke up, a smile pulling at the corner of your mouth as you looked at James’ eyes that were still avoiding yours like the plague. "I am technically allowed to give you senior benefits now.” Bucky’s eyes caught yours at that. Senior discount? No one else had ever mentioned that before. Then again, he never really went anywhere that required cards and accounts. So he listened to what the offer included.

“You know, longer borrowing times, extra email reminders.." You gave him a look, not believing he was convinced yet. "Free coffee whenever you're in here. Even outside of the meeting days." James nodded with raised brows, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Can't say no to free coffee." Bucky liked his coffee, more than he’d ever admit. And to be fair, the extra borrowing time would come in handy as well if he’d ever plan to read a novel to Maxie when she insisted on reading way too difficult books on her own. Maybe he’d read the Hobbit to her, share that first time reading experience with her.

"Well then, Mister Barnes.” You placed his card on the book and scooted it towards him. “You're all set, and enjoy your reading." Without thinking you gave him your best customer service smile, kicking yourself mentally once you noticed. You hoped he hadn't.

Bucky watched your little head tilt, squinting and smiling that practiced smile. Paired with that little tone shift in your voice it was clear you slipped back into friendly librarian mode.

It was cute, but he’d never admit that out loud. No, no way in hell he’d embarrass himself like that.

[amongemeraldclouds]

bloodlust

Run all you want, he'll still catch you in the end. His sharp teeth and ravenous mouth were made to feast on you in more ways than one.

Vampire!Theo x f!Reader

Warning: this fic contains dark themes. Please do not read if you're uncomfortable with dub-con, mind control, smut, blood, degradation. All characters are of age.

A/N: Not me writing this with a sore throat and fever. Then again, it makes sense this was written when I was unwell lol. For week 2 of @acourtofchaos festival of aus.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Theodore Nott Masterlist | 2k words

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as your footsteps echo across the cave, shockwave after shockwave as you stride forward in the long, narrow tunnel. You look back at the pitch black darkness, as if you could see who's chasing you. It's uncanny, despite obviously seeing nothing, you could sense someone's presence just out of reach, and at the same time, looming closer and closer.

You are just about to look forward again, not that you could see much in front either, when the wind gets knocked out from your lungs. You stumble back in surprise, a yelp escaping your throat, your hands braced to break your fall, when you feel cool, strong hands gripping you. Panic rises in your chest. Being in his steel-like grip is worse than stumbling onto the ground.

Your entire body vibrates with adrenaline and as your lips part to scream, a warm flame appears right in front of you. Just as quickly as your panic spiked, shock overcomes you like an ice cold bucket was just poured down your head. There is no time to scream.

The flames dance across his features that flicker in and out of the shadow. You blink as your eyes adjust, drinking in his brown, toussled hair. The orange and yellow flames take turns to reflect in his shiny dark eyes. His sharp jaw looks like it can slice you, and is as sharp as the fangs that slowly reveal itself with his inhuman smile. The fire is the only thing warm about him.

"Are you lost, little girl?" he asks in a deep, silky voice that can freeze even molten lava. You open your mouth again, but the chill settles deep in your bones and the words escape you. You nod your head instead and it seems to satisfy him, his gaze transfixed on you. In your enchanted state, you didn't even notice the flame is coming from his hand.

Somewhere, perhaps, you can hear a voice screaming to be let out, begging for help, but when he speaks again, it drowns out all other noise. "Come with me," he says sternly. If you were elsewhere, you would have peppered him with questions. Where is he taking you? What is he going to do? Can't he take you home? But in this hollow cave, your feet move forward, one foot in front of the other. Eyes glazed over, your thoughts long abandoned. 

You lose track of the walk, it could just as easily have been 5 minutes or an entire hour. Your mind swims through a haze, memories brushing against your fingertips, but always out of reach. The next thing you know, your body sinks down the soft lining of a large coffin, the silk cool beneath your warm skin. His cold skin brings your mind back to focus, and suddenly, he's your entire world. He overtakes your senses, now amplified since he blocked out everything else.

His fingertips glide gently across your face, moving from your cheek all the way down to your chin. It almost seems romantic, if it weren't for the thoughts running through his head. He could have had anyone else he wanted, that's true, so why was he so transfixed on you and your blood? "Bella, you should have just returned my affections, then there would be no need for the chase, this glamour," he says, staring deep into your glazed eyes.

"Alas," he says, resigned yet without any hint of regret, "it must come to this. Tell me you want me to take your blood. Give yourself to me, cara mia." You repeat his words, monotonous, and he thinks this will just have to do.

As you lay there, he lifts up your muddy dress, mouth watering at your primal scent of sweat, blood, and fear. He gently removes your underwear before unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his muscular frame. His trousers are next and then his boxers, his hard length springing free from the fabric.

"You see," he explains even as the words don't register in your head, "the more pleasure a host feels, the tastier your blood becomes. Over centuries, I've found humans prefer just one activity, that elevates the taste of their blood."

"I'm not really a bad guy, you know, I'll make sure you enjoy this too. I'll have you cock drunk and shaking with ecstasy," he says arrogantly as he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He kisses the soft flesh of your thighs, moving lower and lower, close to your shiny cunt that's already glistening with need.

Theo growls ravenously as his senses fill with your musky scent. His tongue finally reaches your slit, tasting your unique flavour that has his cock throbbing with need. It takes all of his self control not to take you then and there.

Instead, his mouth moves over to your clit where he repeatedly sucks and he savours the needy moans that escape your lips. "That's right, bella, you're nothing more than Theo's fuck toy. No one else can make you feel as good as I do." He prods your entrance with his hand, spreading your wetness before shoving two of his thick fingers easily into your slit. "Oh yes," he groans as he savours your warm walls. He moves them across your g spot, over and over. At the same time, his tongue glides over your clit, alternating between soft circles and sucking. Pressure builds at the base of your stomach, growing with his skillfull movements. Your juices make a mess on the silk, your fingers gripping his hair as you lean your head back in the pillow, lost in the haze of pleasure.

Your moans turn to cries of ecstasy as he increases his pace. He can't help it. Your blood smells sweeter and sweeter as your walls grip his fingers tighter. "Cum for me, amore." That's all it takes to unravel you. Your walls fluttering around his fingers as he laps up your juices. There's nothing delicate about your rapture: your body slick with sweat, his mouth and chin covered with your sweet juices, his growls, your screams, until there's nothing left to give.

"Obedient little slut," he looks at you with pride and moves over, studying your features. "Smile and tell me how much you loved it." Your response remains monotonous, but it hardly matters for your blood tells him just how good he made you feel. He's ready to feast.

He moves on top of you, lining his cock against your entrance, his mouth near your neck. He pins your arms down with his right hand. Not that you'd resist, and still he savours the physical surrender. Knowing you can't escape his grip, mentally and physically. You're nothing more than prey. A blood-giving, orgasm-generating piece of fuck meat for his pleasure.  

He enters you. His cock stretching your tight, warm cunt in sync with his fangs that sink deep within your skin. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the first drop of your sweet blood on his tongue. Having been a vampire for centuries, he has learned to refine the best method to extract blood while drawing maximum pleasure, making it the ultimate feast.

Yet the taste of your blood is so uniquely perfect for him that a part of him swears you were made just for him. Every drop makes him feel like a changeling, feral and ravenous for blood. He knows better, though, so he reels in his instincts.

He thrusts into you, slowly yet deliberately, and your toes curl on instinct. The pleasure between your legs is enough to distract you from his feeding. All that registers is a dull pressure on your neck.

His free hand moves towards your breast, squeezing it before his cold fingers pinch your nipple and you feel it grow taut with his touch. You respond with a needy moan and it fuels his lust, making him piston his hips deeper and faster into your soaking cunt. Your legs wrap around him on instinct, back arching to give him more access, as you feel the familiar pressure building within you.

Your mouth is agape and the cave is filled with the slap of skin against skin, filthy moans as your need grows, desperate for a release. He senses this and lets go of your hands, carefully removing himself from you as he lays down on the bed.

"Ride me, bella," he commands, you struggle to move for a few seconds, your legs shaking from his strength. "Now," he says sternly, which gives you the resolve to climb on him and you sigh softly when you move your slick cunt down his hard length. You bounce on him and he's transfixed at the way your breasts move in sync with the rhythm.

For a while, he forgets his feeding and focuses on you instead. "Play with yourself," he orders and you can't help the way your hand moves to your breast, squeezing it and playing with your nipples exactly as he did earlier. Your entire body is on fire. Still lost in the haze, you don't notice the small trickle of blood that slides down to your breast, but he does and it makes him even more feral for you. Your free hand moves towards your clit, pressing and rubbing it as you continue riding him. "That's my good whore," he growls, enjoying every second of the show you put on.

"Now lean forward." You follow his command and he licks your breasts to clean up the blood that dripped earlier. His tongue trails all the way up to your neck, where he sinks his teeth back inside, continuing his feast. You ride him as best as you can, but when he feels you weakening, he takes over. Meeting your hips up as he thrusts from below. Your heavy breaths warm his cool skin and he wraps his arms around you possessively.

He moves faster when he's just about satisfied with his meal. He always ends it with a burst of flavour that comes from an orgasm. He savours the way your walls grip him tighter and when he's ready, he gives his final command. "Let's cum together, amore."

Just like that, you're squirming against him as waves of pleasure course through you. Your loud cries echo against the walls of the cave and you feel his warm cum filling your insides. The pressure in your neck grows as he sucks hard, enjoying the last few drops of his meal.

As you come down from your high, he runs his tongue against the wound, sealing it. He lays you down on the bed again as he strokes your hair. "You did so well for me." He carefully redresses you, his cum still leaking from between your legs. He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead with the hope that you'll choose him one day.

He carries you bridal style back to another section of the cave and lets you down carefully. He ignites another flame in his hand and whispers enchantments in your ear. Word per word, the rest of your senses catch up with you. This part always breaks his heart.

Fear floods your features, the very same one that was twisted in pleasure just earlier. This strange creature with sharp fangs and dark eyes. You step back in horror as adrenaline floods your veins, every cell in your body begging you to run and so you do. Never mind the soreness in your thighs nor the burning pain on your neck, you'll deal with it later. Confusion clouds your mind, and still you run forward.

Your heart pounds in your ears as your footsteps echo across the cave, shockwave after shockwave of sound in the long, narrow tunnel. You look back at pitch black darkness, as if you could see who's chasing you. It's uncanny, despite obviously seeing nothing, you could sense someone's presence just out of reach, and at the same time, looming closer and closer.

You are just about to look forward again, not that you could see much in front either, when the wind gets knocked out your lungs. You stumble back in surprise, a yelp escaping your throat, your hands braced to break your fall, when you feel cool, strong hands gripping you.

✿ Masterlist | ✿ Theodore Nott Masterlist | 2k words

[hirazuki]

HEY KIDS

Be creative and happy, stay healthy, love purple, and don’t let the trolls/antis get you down ♡

This has been a (slightly aggressive?) well-wishing PSA from your friendly neighborhood Lotor. 

[mobbu-min]

☆ marry you ☆

(ft. the housewardens)

It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do. Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you.

In which, he overhears how much you want to marry him.

a/n: despite all the requests i have, i find myself writing more indulgent fics -sigh-

tw: cursing

Riddle Rosehearts <3

⋆ Oh dear, poor Riddle is beyond flustered. Hearing you so openly say how much you want to marry him and spend the rest of your waking moments with him makes his heart flutter and pound. Cheeks dusted a bright red and eyes dazed with a lovesick glimmer.

⋆ Riddle is beyond happy, yet incredibly nervous.

⋆ Marriage had been a thought that came to him occasionally. Seeing you in such a beautiful attire staring at him lovingly and saying you do. Wearing a ring he worked so so hard for. Kissing you lips to seal the deal, is something he would love to see.

⋆ Perhaps after he successfully gets his degree and starts his profession, he’ll indulge you. Get you the ring of your dreams and kneel in front of you in a garden of roses. Staring lovingly into your shocked gaze. A wonderful thought, no?

“My rose, although we are still young and still have much to do, I want you to know, in my heart and if life will allow it, my plan has involved you since the beginning. Ahem, in other words, please be patient, my dear.”

Leona Kingscholar <3

⋆ I feel like I say this all the time, but he’s a smug bastard!

⋆ Look, Leona has never thought about marriage, not that he’s like ‘ew, barf, marriage’ more like it's just not something that is incredibly pressing in his life. He remembers Farena and his wife’s proposal and wedding, and of course the countless of royal/nobel weddings he was forced to attend, but other than that, marriage was never a thought that crossed his mind.

⋆ However, when he began to go out with you, it had come across his mind once or twice. Especially on those days where the world seemed particularly against him and you wordlessly handed him food you lovingly prepared and fed him with his head on your lap. Or that one time, you asked him to teach you chess only for you to continuously fail and claim you’ll get better soon and the next week you came back with a smug look on your face and claim you’ve had help from the Chess Gods (riddle and youtube), only to get your ass beat again. Did that dissuade you? No, because you're persistent. Or the one time Leona had actually attended class and was bored as hell, only for you to tap on the window(successfully startling him) and telling him to meet you in five minutes at the botanical gardens. And the moment he arrived, you surprised him again with a cute little picnic and chess.

⋆ There, of course, were millions and millions of other reasons, but regardless, Leona wouldn’t mind marrying you.

⋆ And with enough persistence, he might just pop up the question sooner or later.

⋆ Too many things have slipped between his grasp, and he isn’t going to let you do the same.

“If you wanted me so badly, you could’ve just said so, herbivore. Ha, why so flustered? Cat’s got your tongue? Hm, c’mere…-yawn-…here, let’s get married.”

Azul Ashengrotto <3

⋆ Runs to his office to bring up his 10 year plan to change marriage from year 6 all the way down to year 2.

⋆ Like this man has already booked everything you could possibly want for your wedding. Clothing, flowers, venue and food, music and guests. Hell even, the cleaners are all booked and ready. He’s been planning it since your third date.

⋆ Call him hopeful, or delusional, or just plain stubborn, but Azul is dead set on having you as his spouse.

⋆ Azul is over the moon, everyone can see his change in demeanor. So much softer, a lot more lenient and a little more eager to spend his time with you. This change is welcomed by everyone, especially the twins since they see Azul’s change as a new tool to get what they want and tease him even more.

⋆ Azul loves you, so much that it hurts. So knowing that you want him just as badly as he wants you, makes him swoon.

⋆ Lowkey immediately called his mom that he got engaged (even though he hasn’t yet). Literally kicking his feet back and forth as he talks about you. Pure adoration slipping off his tongue, sweet like honey.

⋆ And you better get ready, Azul is making his proposal as romantic and mind blowing as he can. An event neither of you can ever forget.

“Love seeing you today, my sea angel. My, did you do your hair? New clothes? Oh, I see you’re wearing the earrings I got you, how lovely. -ahem- Forgive for getting off track- hm? W-why am I so red? Ha…no-no, I’m not sick, sea angel. I simply have big news to tell you.”

Kalim Al Asim <3

⋆ The only thing stopping him from proposing outright is that he doesn’t have the ring he has under his pillow for you!

⋆ Oh and ofc, jamil’s there. (silently cursing you out and congratulating you simultaneously)

⋆ He wastes no time proposing outright. With the help of Jamil, he manages to plan an ideal and romantic time and place to declare his undying love for you. A lovely, fulfilling meal made by Jamil in the candlelit dining room of Scarabia followed by a stunning flight through the night clouds with the moon’s soft gazing gliding over you. And at the oasis, next to the bushes of blooming desert flowers and the warm caresses of the heat, does he pop the question!

⋆ Kalim literally cannot thank the world enough for bringing you into his life. You’re his everything! He swears his heart beats for you and only you. That his life never truly began until you smiled so brightly in his direction. His ruby eyes struck with a shameless lovestruck gaze.

⋆ Kalim truly has never been happier than with you. And knowing, he’s able to keep his happiness and ensure yours is everything he could ever dream of.

“Marry me! … Huh? Why are you hiding? ..oh! Haha, I can’t help it! I’ve wanted to marry you since the day we met! I know you're the one for me! …hehe, I hope I’m the one for you!”

Vil Schoenhiet <3

⋆ How bold of you. Already demanding a proposal from the Vil Schoenheit. Goodness, have you never been taught any patience? Very well, let's see what he can do.

⋆ Vil already has a pinterest board of your future ready to go. Everything ready from the smallest detail. Similar to Azul, nothing will ruin his perfect day.

⋆ Of course, Vil has thought about marrying you. Though not until much later in life, he wants to pursue his career more and the thought of leaving you alone for many nights, leaves him with an ill feeling in his stomach. Surely, you’d understand the pressure of being a high demand actor/model these days, right?

⋆ Either way, Vil’s stuck with the idea for days. Often dozing off to the thought of you holding a bouquet of carefully put together flowers standing near an open window basking in the sunlight. Your hair is put up with a simple flower decorating your ear. A smile stretched ear to ear as you beckoned him near. Fixing his suit and kissing his cheeks, giggling sweetly and whispering as if you were both a lovestruck teen couple sneaking out at night.

⋆ Then he thinks of coming home after a day of interviews, coming through the door of his shared penthouse. Seeing you setting dinner up, a domestic sight to behold. The beautiful amethyst ring that adorns your ring finger glinting in the warm lighting. Kissing his lips and helping him sit down in his seat, carefully undoing his hair and massaging his scalp. He’ll hear you talk about your day, about the cat you saw, about the traffic you encountered on the way back from work and the cute kid you helped at the park.

⋆ That thought sounds so appealing, like an apple, red and ripe, beckoning for him to bite.

⋆ Eventually, it gets too much. His heart pounds and yearns to see you wearing the ring from his dreams, the ring he’s already contacted the most experienced jewelry maker in the world to make.

⋆ He’s like a ticking time bomb, simply waiting for a chance to prove his love to his dearest star.

“I’ve never believed in fairy tales, I’ll have you know. After constantly staring in productions of famous tales, the amazement and wonder of them has faded away. That’s not to say that I no longer love them, I just realized that I’ve been living that fairytale life I’ve read so much about with you… Don’t laugh! …heh, I suppose it is quite amusing, huh? My star, will you make my fairytale come true?”

Idia Shroud <3

⋆ Literally crashes!!! Stops working and Ortho, my sweet baby, has to haul his lanky ass to the infirmary. Like, he acts like he got shot at, then electrocuted then told to go take out the trash.

⋆ On a more personal level though, Idia is actually really apprehensive to marriage. He’s seen how cold his parents are to each other. The silent dinners, the cold stares, the heartlessness of their touch. Nothing about his parents screamed a loving and healthy relationship. Perhaps when he was younger, more hopeful, did he dream of a day where he would whisk his one true love away and live happily ever after with them and his brother.

⋆ To him, marriage is scary. Like scarier than public speaking, or an ultra mega level boss that he’s severely under prepared for! (ahem-malleus-ahem)

⋆ But that was ages ago, and that dream had long since died. Accepting that he’s destined for a life of solitude. Rejecting all human feelings for a way to protect himself, his heart, from both harm and harming.

⋆ However, Idia finds out that he can’t. Despite him feeling less than human most days, he feels the most human when he’s with you. And as much as he hated it at first, he can’t deny that he loves the way his cheeks flare and heart dances at the sight of you.

⋆ And all of his favorite shoujo anime always guaranteed a happy ending for the main couple. And let's be honest, you’re obviously the main character and Idia's more than happy being your love interest.

⋆ Marriage, although scary and frightening, doesn’t sound that bad if you’re the one he’s giving his life too. Sharing a life with you is more than what Idia thinks he deserves.

⋆ But a life with you is a life worth living.

“Huh? What is it? It’s a w-wedding v-venue, ofc! I t-thought w-we could p-practice, y’know?….You like it! How long did it take? …oh, well Ortho helped me a bunch getting it ready…Oh! Before we start, we need to wait for Ortho to log into Minecraft. He wanted to be the flower girl.”

Malleus Draconia <3

⋆ Babe, he’s been waiting for this!

⋆ Malleus has loved you since the moment you locked eyes. His heart was forever bound to you the moment you told him your name. Souls intertwined when you held him to your warmth. Fingers threading against his hair, and voice turned into a mere whisper as you proclaimed your love for him.

⋆ Malleus has loved you since the beginning and never once doubted it. Never once shied away from the thought of giving you his life. Malleus adores you and wishes for nothing more than to wake up every morning knowing you are his and he is yours.

⋆ A hopeless romantic, Malleus jumbles from proposing right then and there or giving you a night to remember. Ultimately going for the latter.

⋆ Similar to Kalim, he treats you to dinner then a stroll through a moonlit garden. Fireflies dancing around you both, humming and singing as they recognize the adoration and love swirling through the night air. Leading you to a clearing, he’ll dance with you. Twirling you around to the melody of his deep, soothing humming. Hauntingly enchanting. Bringing you into a sense of security.

⋆ His large hands caressing every part of your body. Pools of bright emerald gazing oh so lovingly at you. How he wishes he could immortalize this moment. In his mind, he works fast to paint down your sweet, endearing, expression to his memory. Each stroke of his mind crafting you so lovingly, never wanting this precious moment to end.

⋆ And of course, everything comes to an end. A sweet end for the night. One filled with joyous tears and hopeful laughter. A bright future ahead of you both.

⋆ A future Malleus is willing to fight for to ensure.

“This color will suit you perfectly, darling. Such a beautiful design for such a beautiful soul, no? Don’t shy away from me…See, such a pretty expression. Please, allow me to bask in every expression you’ll ever make, my treasure.”

[onlyswan]

summary: in which jungkook is giving up on you but you have so much love left to give.

> idol!jungkook x f!reader / angst, fluff, suggestive / wc: 8.3k

> warnings: mention of infidelity (no one did u can breathe ily), mention of a classmate slipping their number in oc’s pocket and oc feeling unsafe, mention of puking, mentions & allusion to s/x, alcohol consumption, making out, boob!e fondle, gr*nding kinda? jungkook is hard™️ they’re so in love it’s sickening

> in which masterlist!

playlist! and if/or when - ruel / hate everything - jungkook cover (gsoul) / hits different - taylor swift / statue - lil’ eddie / i wouldn’t ask you - clairo (i had to get in the zone & this is so oc-coded i need u to listen i’m so srs)

next: in which you don’t want to give up jungkook (even when he gave you reasons to, even if they give you reasons to).

note: this was a journey. happened back in june 2019.!! i’m ripping off the bandaid <3 deep sigh writing this made me realize how my babies have come so far. hopefully will follow up with a fluffy fluff lowkey inspired by the underwear live soonest lols i’m excited for it 2 stay tuned 🫂 reblogs & feedback are much appreciated <3

—

you forgot the walls of the apartment building you’re living in are thin. a small portion of the white paint has been chipped off, it looks like a birth mark, you note — except it’s not, and you’re the one who caused the irregularity.

your favorite glass is scattered across the kitchen floor, reduced to shards and to sparkling pieces almost as miniscule as dust. you don’t know what came over you. you don’t know why you threw it at the wall instead of filling it with cold water to only drink three sips like you usually do.

just when you thought you’ve been faring well in holding yourself together today, a fresh wave of sorrow overwhelms you. your knees buckle as you begin weeping, the loudest you’ve been since this nightmare has started. it swallows the knocking sounds at your door, but it’s still not loud enough to quell jungkook’s quivering voice playing like a broken record on loop inside your head.

“we should end this… i think it’s for the best, before we get drained.”

the rain is coming down fiercely and you’re freezing inside his car, parked outside your apartment. after all, his balenciaga windbreaker can only do so much against the blasted airconditioner. your throat is painfully dry, and your hands and face are numb from the piercing cold. but those are the least of your concerns because you feel like your head had just been dunked in ice water. the sting in your eyes are burning warmer as the seconds fly by and the muffled sounds of the torrential raindrops drum frantically in your ears. they’re clouding the car windows, mirroring jungkook’s tear-stained cheeks.

“i’m leaving again in three weeks. and i’m leaving again next year… and i’ll be gone again soon after that for a long time. i-i don’t know when i’m coming home, ___.” he pauses. the heel of palms press against his eyes, as if that could possibly barricade the saltwater leaking from them. “i never know where my life is taking me and you have your own… there’s too much-too much going on. i think that i’m just wasting your time, that this isn’t- it’s not going anywhere.”

“open the door! hello?! ___!”

“what do you want?!” you seeth in annoyance, swinging the door open to reveal your pesky neighbor.

he scratches the top of his head awkwardly at the sight of the mess that you greeted him with, having not bothered to pretend that you weren’t wailing your heart out.

”hey, i know you’re going through something…” his lips remain parted as he struggles to find the correct word, his right eye twitching voluntarily. “soul-crushing? right now. but i heard glass breaking and i was concerned that you, uhm, might’ve hurt yourself.”

the apparent nervousness and sincerity in his actions pull you out from the isolating disassociation you’ve imprisoned yourself in. you feel humiliated, presenting yourself in your most pitiful form infront of a kid two years younger than you. you envy him for having it together after storming out of his parents’ house while you-

“i’m not hurt. it was just an accident.”

you’re shamelessly lying infront of his face because the truth makes you feel too ashamed of yourself.

he only nods, smiling in relief. “i don’t know how to help make you feel better, so i just brought honey like i used to do before.”

you sigh, the familiar jar of honey and its red checkered lid waving at you like an old friend. has it been a year?

“bro, i told you i can’t accept this anymore.”

“you and your boyfriend already broke up. what’s the big deal?”

you have never wanted to smack someone more, the genuine confusion painted on his face feels like an infuriatingly harsh slap to yours.

“he wasn’t threatened by your honey, you dipshit. we just found out my blood sugar was getting a bit high!”

“oh- i’m so-”

you angrily slam the door shut. the silence you’re left with is suffocating, and you find yourself breaking down again.

he jumps in surprise when you open the door again, yelling- “and we’re not broken up!” before ripping away the jar of honey from his sweaty palms. he’s left completely flabbergasted, an inexplicable heaviness weighing on his chest when he hears your sniffling from the other side of the hard-wood.

“does that mean i can deliver again next week? i have too much in my kitchen…”

he doesn’t receive a snarky answer, surprisingly, so he continues talking.

“and f-y-i, your left cheek is bleeding! you might want to check on that!”

—

“you didn’t even give me any signs…”

you inhale a deep, shaky breath in a fragile attempt of keeping your composure. you want to scream, rip apart this thick tension with your bare hands, and force him to admit that this is just some kind of sick joke. you finally see him in person after months and all he has for you is a gift bag filled to the brim with heartbreak. this is too casually cruel, not something you would’ve expected from your jungkook.

“do you really mean that? or is there something else you’re not saying…? look at me.” you plead, weakly tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt. the horrors of long-distance relationship stories claw their way out of your skin, adding fuel to the fire of your deepest fear. “you didn’t cheat on me, right? that can’t be it. we- we always-”

after you ended your last relationship, you cried at the parking lot of your university and continued living your life the next morning as if nothing happened at all. you did it all for yourself, anyway. he was gradually tearing down your confidence and your dignity; and you didn’t want to become a person the future you would despise for not being wiser, stronger.

and here you are at present day: spending the cozy sunday night solving chemistry problems on your desk. you have a blue bandaid plastered on your face and a cheek full of fruit and honey. and you would say you’re fine, but jungkook wasn’t here to sweetly dote on you while treating your wound. he isn’t here to taste the honey from your lips with that coquettish smirk of his. he isn’t laying on your bed, fighting to stay awake because he wants to fall asleep with you as his pillow.

no matter how hard you try to shut out this thought, it keeps knocking on the door. he’s going to be doing these sweet nothings for a different person when he finally reaches a more stable place in his life. you want to kneel on the ground, beg the heavens to meddle with destiny and never let you hear about it.

because that means he will never set foot in your apartment again, and the personal belongings you left in his room will be thrown out to erase the traces you left behind.

so this is how it begins.

the ugliest parts of you are swimming to the surface, tying themselves around your ankles because jungkook took away the ground from beneath your feet after unearthing your soul and… nothing makes sense to you anymore. if you wake up every morning to tend to your garden, and you look outside the window to learn that the sun has stopped burning, what do you have left?

your lips inevitably curve into a frown, but you inhale a sharp breath, patting your eyes dry before they can smudge the black ink on your notepad. and then you dip a strawberry in honey for the third time.

—

“no, baby, no- that’s not it.”

the dread and insecurity weaved into the cracks of your voice fill him with nausea and panic. he captures your frigid hand with haste, firmly holding it to his pounding chest.

“i would never do that to you. just the thought alone fucking disgusts me… you’re the only one. you’ve ruined me for everybody else.”

“then why are you giving up on me? am i becoming a burden?”

jungkook feels painfully numb, mind floating as the buildings outside the window get left behind him as a mere, passing blur.

“yah, jungkook-ah. are you crying?”

a torturous moment of silence passes as he struggles to find his voice. his tongue is tied, and his lost eyes are betraying the nights he spent practicing how to explain himself to you. back then, the reasoning he curated made sense. but faced with the consequences of his actions, the love of his life’s brain running a thousand miles per hour, recording a tale of woe and heartache on his passenger seat — he has never felt this much loathing for himself and his weaknesses.

you release a shaky breath, patting his rosy cheeks dry with your sleeves. you smile at him kindly, and he watches you in sheer disbelief. he can’t fathom the perpetual luck he’s been blessed with that he met, who he believes to be, the purest soul to grace this corrupted world. they’re damp with your tears, so it’s practically useless, but the sweet gesture is a stray beam of sunlight in the midst of the dull gray clouds.

the comforting rubs on his shoulder extracts him from his torturous thoughts, and only then does he feel the wetness on his face.

“you’ve been holding it back for the past week. just cry it out.”

he nods wordlessly, hiding himself in the fleece blanket from his lap. yoongi can feel a lump forming in his throat as he witnesses his youngest brother breaking down, jungkook’s pain also being his pain. as a group who’s been living together for the past decade, no one will be able to empathize with them as well each other. especially during times like this.

“___ hasn’t called?”

jungkook shakes his head wistfully, wiping away the tears that slid down his nose. he is dying to send you a text message, worried sick, and still used to hearing about your day the same way he is used to sleeping on his stomach.

“hyung,” the sound of the word borders on a sob. “it’s over. this is killing me… it’s all my fault.”

“but isn’t that what you wanted?”

“exactly. so why am i crying?” his hands ball into closed fists. “i’m an asshole.”

“enough of that!” yoongi loudly whines out his scolding. ”we all know you had your reason.”

“but, hyung, i fucked up!” he tenses up, blurting out the acknowledgement that’s been haunting him day and night. “she told me the most romantic thing and i felt so… fuck, i’m so angry at myself. i ruined everything. and i’m scared that i’d end up making things worse if i try fixing it.”

“stop beating yourself up. we can’t solve things this way.” yoongi grabs a bottle of water from the cupholder between them, twisting the cap open before handing it to jungkook. “drink first.”

once he starts drinking, he realizes that his throat has been awfully dry and sore. it’s most probably best for him to rest his voice. he can already foresee the concert rehearsal being absolute hell tomorrow. if he can’t sing, he doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to keep himself sane.

“talk to me. what did she say?”

“you’re the first person i’ve fallen in love with, do you know that?”

and with that revelation, he loses the warmth of your touch, and he comes crashing down like a wingless aircraft.

“i also need time to think about it. that’s only fair, right? that i get to decide, too…?” you swallow thickly, lips parting as if the words are resisting to come out of your mouth.

he looks at you with an emotion you can’t name, a push and pull between longing and trepidation.

if this was a movie, he would brave the rain and somehow perfectly deliver a poetically romantic speech that would sway your heart. if this was a movie, you would take a warm bath together, make out in the bathtub, and make love on your bed. if this was a movie, the day would end with the two of you tangled up, peacefully asleep and rhythmic breathing in sync. but he knows you. apparently not as well as he thought, but to some extent, he knows you. if he pulls you closer in the heat of the moment, you would feel suffocated and defensive and you would push him away; and he would lose you for good. that much he knows. so he lets you leave and he stays in the car— heartbroken, crestfallen, and regretful, because he might’ve just recklessly thrown away the best gift the universe has ever given him.

“i was thinking about how she never would’ve made this much sacrifices and efforts for anyone else and i feel like… i- it’s all going to waste because our future is uncertain. i can’t be committed to her as much as she is committed to me. and, and i felt like the guilt was eating away at me, you know? i wasn’t thinking straight.” jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a last ditch effort to prevent himself from sobbing. “it just… consumed me? like i was drowning… and all i could smell and taste was the saltwater.”

“i see,” yoongi sighs, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers infront of his stomach as he finds the right words to say. “that’s a normal response. our brain is a very complex friend… but you know, everything i’ve been through as myself and as a part of our team, hmmm, they taught me that there are times when a problem doesn’t necessarily need a solution per se. you just keep going until the fog clears up and then you move past it.”

fuck, jungkook needs a glass of whiskey. or two. or twelve. he listens intently despite seeming like he’s spacing out.

“this won’t last forever and time slips away from us without us even noticing. you should do what you want to do. if we’re going to deprive ourselves of good things, what will we have left after everything is over? money we can’t spend in one lifetime? there’s no happiness in that.”

yoongi frowns, wishing he could do more to alleviate the weight hanging on jungkook’s shoulders.

“you deserve love outside all the noise, too. focus on the present which you can still control and deal with the future when it arrives. if you do otherwise, you’ll just be tormenting yourself… and i know it’s easier said than done but! do you want to hear something i’ve had on my mind lately?”

with a flushed face and swollen eyes, he tilts his head to curiously spy on his hyung.

“what is it?”

“your motivation to work out after our shows is so you can stay awake and spend time with her. that’s why you fall asleep everywhere else. do you know how scary and endearing it is to watch that? is that what you call ‘not being committed enough’?”

yoongi fails to hide his gummy smile, body vibrating with silent laughter as pictures of jungkook falling asleep standing up flash before his eyes.

“seriously, you punk! you scare me! i just pass out and die straight after while you- really, you’re really unbelievable. i envy you. for being able to love with everything you have until they break your heart. i mean it!”

“but i’m the one who broke their heart this time.” jungkook somberly utters in defeat, bottom lip jutting out and chin quivering.

yoongi encouragingly pats his shoulder, shaking his body lightly. ”you can make it up to her. she’ll reach out before we leave. have some more patience.”

jungkook’s eyes turn into slits, suspiciously squinting at the man sitting beside him. “why do you sound so sure?”

“because she loves you. why else?”

—

you automatically pause from eating cup ramyeon when your phone lights up on top of the journals you’ve been reviewing for the past hour.

“ah, shit! shit!”

you abruptly cover your mouth with your hand, exhausted eyes watering because you accidentally bit your tongue after reading the name of the sender of your newest text notification. you take sips of cold water, peering at your phone as you do so. your hands itch to type out a response, but the screen dies and turns black, another of yoongi’s messages in the same pile of unanswered ones from your friends checking up on you tonight. you can’t talk to anyone right now; you need to get shit done.

after eating your dinner at the convenience store, you come home to a plastic of fried chicken hanging on the doorknob of your front door.

Eat lots and stay healthy! I’m feeding Jungkook well too. Don’t worry. — Yoongi

you peel off the blue handwritten note, sticking it on the cover of one of your books. you carefully carry the food using your free hand, and you can feel it radiating on your skin, the heat of a freshly-cooked meal. you were always worried of being a bother when you occasionally ask him how jungkook is doing on tour, but this made your heart significantly lighter. gaining a good friend after losing your lover, perhaps life can show a smidge of mercy when it wants to.

too bad you’ve always been one to be greedy.

—

“ah, seriously. why did you have to break up with ___?”

“we’ve been through this a million times!” jungkook exclaims in exasperation as he fiddles with the controller, bumping his knee with taehyung’s. “focus. you’re supposed to be helping me forget.”

“i don’t remember agreeing to that.” taehyung responds with a shrug, smirking when he picks up a booster and runs past his friend’s character. “you finally found someone who could put up with you and you let them go? i won’t let you forget.”

jungkook scoffs, eyes rolling upwards. “bro, i should be the least of your problems.”

“nuh-uh.” taehyung tuts with a grin, belly aching with laughter when jungkook’s car jumps over his to steal the lead. he didn’t even know that was possible. he plans on using the same trick against him later. “i’m making you my biggest problem so i don’t have to deal with mine.”

“they’re not married yet. you still have a chance, you know?”

“yah!” he gapes at jungkook in shock, entirely forgetting about the game. “take that back!”

“don’t act like you haven’t thought of it!”

“yeah, but i don’t say it out loud. it sounds too wrong! i still have my morals left!” he cries out, stomping his feet on the floor.

jungkook lightly punches his arm, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “i meant you have a chance if they break up. i have morals too! what do you think of me?!”

“oh…” taehyung blinks. “you know who else have probably thought of that too, though?”

“who?” jungkook boredly questions as he scrolls through the game collection, contemplating about which one to play next.

“all the other people waiting in line for ___.”

the realization renders him motionless, stirring up the possessiveness coursing through his veins. for the love of god, he doesn’t want to be petty but that struck a nerve. he wants to storm out of the house and look for you, beg on his knees for you to take him back.

“aish, hyung, you’re driving me crazy! why would you tell me that? are we torturing each other?!”

“are you crying? yah, jungkook-ah.” taehyung watches his hunched figure with a guilty wince, hesitant hands rubbing the expanse of his back. “i’m sorry- i’m sorry… do you want a hug?”

jungkook stays quiet, head hanging low to hide his face crumpling with anguish. the loose but affectionate hug that he gets pulled into prompts him to fall apart, catharsis blossoming in his ribcage and turning his bones into jelly.

he hears obnoxiously loud sniffles, and he abandons taehyung’s shoulder to look at his face. “are you crying, too?”

“stop ruining the moment.” taehyung groans, forcefully pushing down his head again.

namjoon comes out from his bedroom in search for another extension cord, still sipping on the half-empty iced americano he took from the fridge only ten minutes ago. the heartfelt scene on the couch causes him to halt on his tracks. how did they go from playing games to crying together? he silently observes the two members for a moment before deciding to approach them.

“what am i going to do with the two of you?” he grunts, ruffling his hair in frustration. “shall we go out for drinks to disinfect your wounded hearts?”

the mention of alcohol makes them perk up, jungkook’s tearful doe eyes sparkling at the prospect of temporarily erasing the pain that has uncontrollably spread throughout his system. he wants to drink until he forgets that he has hands, until he forgets what it feels like to touch you.

“thanks, monie-hyung. i’ll have my appetizer.”

and the iced americano gets snatched away from namjoon’s unsuspecting hand within the blink of an eye.

—

“this is not a barbecue restaurant.” you stare blankly at the orange neon lights spelling out the name of the night club your friends secretly conspired to bring you to.

“___, loosen up! the fastest way to move on is to find someone else. this is the best place for that.” aera turns around from the passenger seat of the taxi, her red lips painting a thrilled smile. “just forget about jungkook. we all knew this shit was going to happen. i’m surprised you even lasted that long!”

“i don’t know what you’re trying to imply but i don’t appreciate your tone.” you warn her with a sharp, threatening look. “and the ‘someone else’ that i found at a bar before turned out to be biggest fucking jerk i’ve ever met. i’m not doing this again.”

“things might be different this ti-” mi-ran aids in persuading you, but it only adds fuel to the fire.

“oh my god! fuck off!” you yell in irritation, aggressively getting off the car and slamming the door shut on their faces.

you never look back, ignoring the shouts of your name and half-assed apologies. you don’t have the slightest idea about where you’re going — your feet have a mind of their own and they chose to go the opposite way of home. this isn’t how you envisioned your night. you just wanted to listen to the sound of the meat grill and complain about life giving you a taste of true love just to cut your tongue with it until you bled. was that too much to ask?

you’re about ninety percent certain that you just lost two of whom you treated to be your closest friends. you think of ah-young, and you briefly consider crashing at your best friend’s band practice, but you’re too exhausted to travel to the other end of the city.

with eleven seconds left in the timer, you cross the street with swift and long strides alongside a crowd consisting mostly of employees wearing the same navy blue uniform. at last, you’re among the bright and lively restaurants, the inviting smell of good food making your stomach sting with hunger.

it’s only taehyung who recognizes you when you unknowingly pass by, almost choking on his glass of somaek, the combination of soju and beer. with his career on the line, he is confident that he can recognize that balenciaga windbreaker anywhere and anytime. meanwhile, instead of talking about you, the youngest is drunkenly reminiscing about the alleged ghost encounters he had in their old dorms. their leader is tragically left to tend to the grill alone. he deeply regrets not dragging any of the older members with them.

“everyone, i think i just saw __-”

a grimace of cluelessness is plastered on taehyung’s face when jungkook claps once, enthusiastically pointing at him as if he just announced something inspiring and life-changing.

“you’re right, you’re right! that’s it! what i’m kind of trying to say here is…” he pauses, facial muscles relaxing into a gloomy expression. he sniffles and rubs his nose, making it a brighter shade of red. “when we move houses again, i won’t have stories like these to bring with me. the new ghosts will be my memories with ___.”

none of the other two dares to speak after that, the oddly satisfying sound of meat being grilled and the chattering from other tables occupy the uneasy and heavy silence. instead, they begin filling their own shot glasses with pure soju. namjoon is the first one to spill it down his throat, slamming it on the table before dishing out his phone from his pocket. by this time, all of them are already drunk, double vision blurry and speech a little slurred. they gave up on counting the green bottles and cans of beer a long while ago.

“shit, that was a good metaphor. i need to write that down.”

“namjoon-hyung, he’s crying again!”

jungkook’s head slumps on the table with a thud, hot tears escaping down to his temple as he laments. “i miss her so much. why did i have to break up with her the second we got home? why…? am i so impulsive? what do i do if… if she agrees that we- h-how am i supposed to live with myself after that…? i’m never going to love again.”

they shuffle apprehensively on their seats, but still, they tell jungkook what he needs to hear since he won’t remember tonight’s events, anyway.

that’s not going happen. she just needs some more time. i’m sure she’s missing you too. everything will be okay.

but it’s been almost two weeks of radio silence. their flight is in nine days, drawing nearer and nearer as if it’s purposely taunting jungkook. everyone is thinking the same thing, and everyone is afraid to say it out loud.

—

it’s 7am when his work alarm goes off. with a disgruntled noise, a hungover jungkook drowsily drags himself out of bed, eyes still closed as he swings the bedroom door open.

“oing?” he creates a noise of confusion when his arm bumps against an object. he blinks at the brown paper bag hanging on his doorknob, removing one of the handles to peek at its contents.

he buffers for a moment, staring blankly at his belongings safely tucked inside. there’s his black mini bluetooth speaker, tinted lipbalm, wired earphones, bucket hat, facial cleanser, moisturizer, and shampoo. these are everything he left on top of your study desk and in your bathroom. neatly folded on the side is his windbreaker, which he recalls as clear as daylight, how you reveled in its comfort the last time that you were together. the fabric softener you use has replaced his perfume, the cherry scent forming a rain cloud of nostalgia and longing above his head.

if this is a nightmare, he is begging for somebody, anybody, to break into the room and to bring him someplace where hope is not desolate.

his wounded heart, as his namjoon-hyung described, is experiencing an excruciating pain he never even imagined was possible. he now understands, why the broken heart syndrome is a real thing.

he can’t read you. is this your way of ‘reaching out’? have you kicked him out of your house, out of your life? for good?

the dread of losing you forever is gnawing at his insides. nausea almost succeeds in knocking him off his feet. his brain hisses with static. he panics at the disgustingly familiar sensation brewing in his digestive system, sprinting to the bathroom to spill out his guts.

they say that you don’t realize what you have until you lose it. that early morning, jungkook realizes that he’s only a human being after all.

—

“when did i put that there?”

you’re sorting out your dirty laundry after showering when you notice a tissue paper tucked in the front pocket of your denim jeans. you huff out a sigh, ripping it apart into tiny pieces over the trash bin with raging vexation. you will never understand how men thinks that these kind of stupid tricks are supposed to compel you into seeing them anywhere near attractive and desirable in your eyes. if anything, they make you feel unsafe and if your paths cross again, you will run the other way. great. another person in the lecture room to avoid. just fucking great.

at this point, you want to mockingly laugh at your own misery. just when you thought your day couldn’t possibly get worse, it fucking does.

you tuck yourself in bed by midnight, texting a friend about your joint presentation next week, and then rereading your conversation with namjoon from this morning for the nth time. you’ve been hoping it will shine light on the right path to take, because you’re still lost and hurt.

Namjoon:

he’s been devastated since

can’t this be sorted out?

stuff’s just been overwhelming and honestly i’m as anxious as him

i'm not trying to force you into getting back together with him ofc but please talk for closure atleast..

you’re also my friend. i think you need it too..

you scroll a bit further down afterwards, and your heart drops to your stomach when you see the three dots under the contact name ‘my jungkook’. you click on it as it beckons you to, only to allow time to flow like a river with no sea to kiss, idly watching the bubble appear and disappear, appear and disappear. almost everyday, you catch a glimpse of him at the very least, typing a message and never sending it.

the same goes for tonight, it seems.

his silence is torturing you. in the car, in your inbox, in your call history. a person knocks on the door and a part of you foolishly predicts that it’s jungkook not using his copy of the key out of respect.

you succumb to the yearning, heading to your shared media and files that you’ve been actively resisting for the past three weeks… for this exact reason.

you randomly click a video sent by jungkook three months ago.

“i know you’re in class but i’m too excited to show what i got you today!” he beams at the front camera, bunny teeth cutely showing. he picks up the first item from the hotel bed with his free hand. “you already own this book but this one got a different cover, see? it’s hardback? they say it’s a limited edition.”

he eyes it fleetingly, obvious that there is something else he is dying to mention.

“i won’t show it too close. you can look at it when i go home. there’s a little surprise inside.”

he scrunches his nose before teasingly sticking his tongue out.

“and then here we haaave-”

following that, he shows you an adorable fluffy white bunny with red eyes. it occupies more than half the screen, and without a doubt, it is soft and huggable.

“cooky’s new sibling! we found it at a gift shop and hobi-hyung said it looks like me.”

he presses his cheek to the bunny’s. “i accept. we do look alike, but my eyes are so much bigger.”

in the upcoming seconds, the video is muted except for his breathing. he plops down on the bed while ruffling his dark hair, staring at the camera wordlessly, evocative of when you catch him dreamily watching you study while you’re on a videocall.

“i miss you.” he smiles sadly, deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “don’t forget to text me when you’re on your way home.”

he drops on his back, the firm mattress breaking his fall.

“mmmwah!“ he kisses the camera, and your screen freezes on the final frame.

the silence in the aftermath is defeaning. you tear your glasses off your face, burying your face in the pillows. you arrive at your final decision then and there. you don’t care. you don’t care. you don’t care anymore. you cannot bear to spend more of your days like this. his things that used to live here might be gone, but you look for him everywhere. you look for his car in the parking lot. you look for his hair when you see flowers. you wait for his name to be called in the coffee shop. on your way home, you linger at the playground where you used to usually meet.

because if your relationship with jungkook is truly doomed to fail, you want to watch its foundation collapse on the ground, burnt down to gray and black ashes that disintegrate when you try to grasp them in your hands… with good grace, it’s the only way for you to believe that there’s no more home to come home to.

with a trembling hand, you press the call button and for the very first time, you beg someone to stay.

—

jungkook’s breathing ceases, heartbeat violently racing in his chest. the ‘chimes’ ringtone tickle his ears, his phone vibrating incessantly in his hands. the two features he specifically customized in your contact settings so he will immediately recognize that it’s you who’s calling.

it’s been four days since you dropped off his things. and here he was, laying on his bed and struggling to find the right words to say because he refuses to believe that this is how it ends. the paper bag is still hanging on the doorknob. he hasn’t touched it since the first time. he doesn’t have the courage to do so.

fuck giving you space. he wants drown himself in you and never come up for air. he’s more than willing to suffer your anger or your coldness. he’s prepared to prove himself worthy of a second chance every second of every day. he wants to occupy half of your desk and half of your closet again. he selfishly wishes to be the first and the last person you fall in love with.

but until the very end, you’re the braver one.

“love?” your voice is quiet, barely audible, but it’s there, and he hears the affectionate term of endearment distinctly. “i’m sorry. i tried, i really did, but i couldn’t do it…”

“baby,” he falters breathlessly, half of him in disbelief, convinced that he has officially lost his goddamn mind and delusion is bleeding into reality.

“i tried living without you like you wanted- but i can’t-” you hiccup in between small sobs on the other line. “i love you, jungkook. i can’t live carrying around all this love with me. it’s too heavy…”

exploding and breaking apart, jungkook’s heart is a meteor that has entered the planet’s atmosphere, and he doesn’t know where to begin digging for the fragments so he can piece himself together again.

“we are too young and we don’t know what the fuck we’re doing and i love you too much. you don’t have to protect me… i’ll take my fair share of the responsibility, so just-” he hangs on your every word, and then you pause, your following words eliciting a powerful punch to his gut. “just let me love you and let me learn my lesson the hard way… let’s do that, okay?”

the walls of him room ebbs and flows in like the sea. he rests his forearm over his eyes, his skin gradually dampening with tears. he once promised himself that he would never put you in this position. he should be the one begging for forgiveness, repenting and crawling on his knees. but rather than wasting his time with surfing through another tsunami of self-blame, he reminds himself: i want to be a better man.

“okay, baby. let’s do that, hmm? let’s do that. it’s what i want too.” he coos softly with a hoarse voice. “are you at your apartment?”

you hum in confirmation, sniffling. “come home.”

—

a half-naked jungkook abruptly opens the door to yoongi’s room, wearing gray sweatpants with his left arm awkwardly inserted in one of the black t-shirt’s armhole.

“hyung! can i borrow your car? mine’s getting a check-up.”

yoongi tears his eyes away from the computer, hanging the black headphones on the nape of his neck. he merely shrugs before throwing the car key, and jungkook catches it in one hand with ease.

he sighs in relief, politely bowing his upper body to express his gratitude. “thank you, hyung.”

“what are you doing?!” yoongi half-smiles with fondness, jokingly waving him off. “just go- go. leave!”

—

jungkook nervously stands before your front door, head woozy with anticipation and fear. what if things have changed? what if your relationship never goes back to the way it was?

“oh. you’re back together?”

he whips his head back to find your neighbor arriving home from his part-time job. huh, he just realized that he has never really learned what his name is. the only information he has on him is that his sister owns a bee farm.

“how did you even know?” he asks with knitted eyebrows. “you haven’t been giving out honey again, have you?”

“she only accepted it once.” the stranger puts his arms up in surrender with a roll of his eyes. “and don’t make her cry again, will you? she blasts sad songs late at night.”

and with an unpleasantly forceful shut of the door, jungkook is left alone in the hallway. his jaw clenches as he glares at the next apartment, but he rubs his face to release his frustration before he goes to meet you.

“we need to move in together.” he grumbles to himself as he enters your unit, relocking the door behind him. he removes his sneakers, neatly setting them down beside your pairs of shoes by the doormat.

he pads on the wooden floor with his white toe socks, looking around the dark and quiet living room. a faint orange light is seeping under the gap between the floor and the bedroom door, which he recognizes to be your favorite mode on your multi-colored nightstand lamp. he cautiously cracks the door open, and he is instantly greeted by your curled up figure, peacefully sleeping.

it’s muscle memory when he hangs his backpack on the backrest of your study chair before anything else. he also brought the paper bag you sent, putting it down on the floor.

he squats down infront of you, lightly prying away the phone you’re hugging to your chest and placing the device on the bedside table. the light is shining over your skin, and there are a thousand of photos and videos organized into the most treasured folder in his gallery, but not a single one of them will ever do you justice.

god, he missed you so much. it hasn’t been two years, but the life he had before he met you feels like an extremely distant memory.

he sighs, talking in hopes that he appears in your dreams. “how do you do this? you make it impossible not to love you.”

he unconsciously frowns at the sight of your puffy eyes. never again. never again. never again. he chants inside his head. he plants a kiss on each of your eyelids, taking his time to bask in the feeling of your weight under his lips.

he climbs on the opposite side of the bed, tucking you underneath the blanket before securely holding you from behind with his thigh hanging over yours. the warmth of your body and the scent of your shampoo cures the headache that’s been bothering him the whole day. he drifts off to sleep soon after.

—

the feather-light brushes through the silky locks of his hair pulls him out of his slumber half an hour later. he can make out your silhouette through his half-open eyes, the little-mermaid-like scene feels too vivid for a dream.

“why didn’t you wake me up?” you whine, sulking with a pout.

“i’m sorry.” he answers quietly, sitting up to engulf you in a tight embrace as endless apologies tumble from his tongue. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i gave up. i’m sorry that i hurt you. i’m so sorry… are you angry at me?”

“i’m upset.” you admit after a few beats, not seeing the point in sugarcoating it. “it hurts when i remember you saying that. and i understand you but… but i don’t like that you decided alone for us. if you do that again… then it will be over between us.”

he has an arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand firmly holding the back of your head. it’s a little hard to breathe, but it’s so reassuring to feel that he doesn’t want to let you out of his embrace. because you hated it — hated how it felt like letting you go was so easy.

“i regret everything. i’m sorry.” he whispers, concealing his tears by nuzzling his face on your neck. “and you’re not a burden. that’s not true.”

he knows that you mean your every word, so he lifts up his head to gaze directly into your eyes, showing that he is as sincere and true to his.

“from now on, all i’ll think about is what i can do to make you happy and safe without compromising our relationship… i’ll do better. i’ll love you better. i promise that i’ll be stronger for us. i won’t make the same mistake twice.”

you wish jungkook could be kinder to himself, treat himself with the same gentleness that comes so naturally with you. why is it that humans find loving themselves so laborious? why does being have to come with such a curse?

taking glimpses at the past, you should’ve been reminding him of these affirmations everyday.

“you don’t have to be strong all the time. i’m not asking for that.” you shake your head, voicing out yourself in a tone so soothing and illuminating. “i don’t want to go anywhere far away from you so think of yourself, too. i told you before, it’s okay to hold on to me. i’m also strong.”

jungkook feels so safe at home. he doesn’t remember what he was so worried of anymore.

“and you know what? if you really see it that way, then i’m telling you now. i want to waste my time on you. you can’t stop me.” your threatening eyes widen in conviction, provoking a sheepish smile to tug at the corners of his lips. “i always get what i want.”

“and you want me?” he innocently points at himself.

“love you.”

“i love you.” he replies, nosing at your neck before leaving a chaste kiss on your skin. “so much.”

“then put yourself in my shoes.” you hum, combing his hair with your fingers, lightly tugging to initiate eye-contact. “i want to take care of you just like how you want to take care of me. i think we have something rare and beautiful…” you pause, self-conscious about coming across as too needy now that you’re face-to-face, but an epiphany shatters your apprehension with a bow and an arrow.

this is what he needed to hear from you that day.

“so stay with me.”

jungkook’s vision becomes unfocused. he’s speechless; the only sound in the room is the humming of the airconditioner, but it’s almost as if you can hear the gears of his brain working their hardest. the pain that glossed his enchanting doe eyes has been replaced with a devotion you’ve never seen expressed so passionately in them before.

“all the time i own is yours.” he declares, cupping your face, the pad of his thumb daintily stroking your cheek. “all of it. we can do anything you want to do. let me make it up to you.”

“anything?” your face lights up with joy and mischief, and the butterflies in jungkook’s stomach come alive. he wants to make it his life’s mission to make you smile everyday; and that, he will do. “then i want you to kiss me.”

the sultriness of your enticing voice makes him go haywire. it’s been too damn long. he has forgotten what it feels like to kiss you. he slowly inches closer, his lips brushing against your lips before he pulls you in deeper, a fervent display of his yearning and apologies. he swallows the needy moan that escapes you as he slowly lays you down on the mattress, stripping off his shirt and mindlessly tossing it somewhere when you impatiently tug at it with another whimper. you cage his face in your hands, bringing back his lips on yours as if he’s the air that you breathe.

he wants to grieve for all the wasted time because everyday, he craved for this. to be honest, he forgets his name when he’s kissing you. outside, the crowds scream his name for being the best at what he does best, and he happily lives for the euphoria of it all. but in this room, there is only you and him. you communicate using the unspoken language of love with your lips. you bare the soft animal in yourselves with your teeth sinking in the other’s skin. you allow your rawest desires and truths to unravel with a slip of the tongue. he exists beyond his name, becomes an indecipherable enigma even to himself. what is the use of an explanation if there is no meaning anyway? all he knows is that he loves you despite all the reasons, against all the reasons.

he sneaks under your shirt, fingertips teasingly exploring your skin as if he’s drawing a map. he feels you quiver when he finally reaches your chest, gently kneading the soft flesh in his palm. this makes you mewl in pleasure, arching your back as your hand unconsciously curls around his wrist, the cotton fabric separating the two of you. the action electrifies jungkook, makes him lose himself a little more, which he didn’t think was still possible.

“touch me, please- jungkook. need you-” you choke out a desperate whimper, nearly sobbing as you guide his hand between your thighs. you can’t bear to spend another second untouched; the last time you made love feels like an eternity ago. he slips past the waistband of your underwear, the only article of clothing you’re wearing below. but to your disappointment, he gently caresses your hip bone instead of dipping his long fingers into your wetness.

“shh, hold on, baby-” he forces himself to break away from the kiss, swollen and red lips glistening with spit. “baby, look at me. you didn’t drink, right? i don’t want to take advantage.”

you gape at him with your chest heaving up and down, dumbfounded. “how could you even think of that right now?”

his eyes widen in panic, worried that he might’ve offended you. “no, no, no-” his palms skim your thighs, guiding them to wrap around his slim waist. you gasp when he presses up on you and his hard length rubs on your folds, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. a gush of arousal dampens the thin material covering your center.

“i want you so fucking bad that it hurts.” he gingerly wipes away the tears that you didn’t even notice streamed down to your temples. you can’t remember the last time you cried before today, they must’ve gotten tired of asking for your permission. “but you were crying when you called, baby. i had to make sure.”

“oh, my boyfriend is such a gentleman.” you muse dreamily. pepper his face with delicate kisses, lips curving upward with an adoring smile. “look at him enjoying my kisses.”

you playfully squeeze his cheeks together, making his pillowy lips pucker.

“you really wanted to break up with me in this case, huh? you wanted to live without me and my kisses? no way.”

his eyelids flutter open, and he shakes his head as he dips down to kiss you. “it was hell without you…” his teeth captures your bottom lip, nipping at the supple flesh. “going to build a life with you. i’ll build furniture, and they’re going to be ours.”

“good. you better.” your high-pitched giggles bounce off the walls as his lips trail down to your neck, licking a bold stripe over your ticklish spots. “i don’t have the patience for it, but i’ll be your trusty assistant.”

it’s ridiculous, how even the sound of your laughter turns him on even more.

—

jungkook learned that you finished your exams yesterday, having spent majority of the past two weeks pulling all-nighters to prepare for them. you seem to be confident about the results, the way you talked about it without concern. he never once doubted that you’re resolute and persevering, but acing your exams in the middle of a breakup is beyond what he can digest. it must’ve been a grueling experience, he can only imagine.

he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and then your lips, before dragging the blanket higher over your naked figure, a thicker one he brought out from the cabinet. poor thing, you fell asleep on his lap while he was drying your hair, incoherently murmuring about how tired you are.

he walks to your study space, fixing the loosening towel wrapped around his waist. one by one, he pulls out the items from the paper bag, returning them to their old places on your desk. he toothily grins at the windbreaker, ecstatic due to his plan on wearing it at work today. he wants to give it back to you smelling like him again.

an index card lands on the ground when he unfolds it, making him peer down in curiosity.

“what’s this?” he mumbles, bending down to pick it up.

jumbled thoughts. a letter shoved at the back of the mailbox. a hesitant confession. a bittersweet reminder that says: a wound does not magically disappear overnight. it requires the proper treatment to heal correctly, and even then, it might still leave a scar.

These are only a few of many. Why is this the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? I’m usually the more logical one. Was it really so bad that we weren’t going anywhere?

and messily crossed out at the end,

I miss you.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[boldlyvoid]

Figure it out

18+ Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Movie and a Cuddle night starts out a bit differently this week...

Warnings: best friends to lovers, male masturbation, voyeurism, ruined orgasms, love confessions, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v smut

word count: 4k

Movie and cuddle night with Eddie was her absolute favourite night of the week. 

It was always on a different night, sometimes they had 2 in one week, and sometimes they skipped a week altogether, it all depended on Eddie’s ever-changing work schedule. He’d call when he had a free day coming up, so they’d be able to spend the night together without the worry of him being late for work the next day. He never wanted to get out of bed when she was there… she didn’t blame him. They made this perfectly warm and happy cocoon of love under his covers, it was the best place to be. 

So when he called earlier and said he was free tomorrow, she packed a bag and all but ran to him. 

She leaves a bit earlier than she normally would, she just couldn’t wait around any longer when she missed him so much. Being his best friend and all, she saw him often, except also not often enough, according to the little crush she had on him. She’s been basically in love with him since their first movie night when she fell asleep by accident and he tucked her into his bed with a kiss on the head. He slept beside her all night, above the covers and fully clothed, he wanted to make sure she felt safe… which is exactly why she was able to fall asleep on him in the first place. He radiates safety. security. happiness. Everything good in the world comes from Eddie Munson. 

On the way to his place, she grabs his favourite snacks from the corner store, she even gets him a few cans of beer as a treat. The trailer park isn’t too far away after that, she puts all the groceries in the passenger seat and continues to his house with a never-ending smile. 

She parks behind his van, gets out with all her things and walks right into the trailer, allowed to come and go as she pleases, he said so before. She puts everything on the kitchen counter and heads to his room. She plans to knock, as always, but something pulls her attention away from any rational thoughts she had. 

Was that a moan?

From where she’s standing in the hall, she can see through the crack of the bedroom door and into the mirror facing his bed… the same bed she has to share with him later and the one he’s currently masturbating in. With his shirt off and pants pushed down to his knees, he’s stroking his cock like his life depended on it. He has no idea she’s there, no idea he’s being watched. He’s too in the zone to care, either.

She strains her neck trying to get a better look without getting too close, the butterflies in her stomach fly lower causing an all too familiar tingle to arise in her panties. This was too much, it was so private, and she shouldn’t be standing there looking and trying to get a better view… she should just back away but her morbid curiosity gets the better of her. 

He used one hand on his balls, massaging them slightly as the other hand quickly stroked up and down his long length… she could drool looking at him. Fuck. She knew he’d be hot in bed, but this was a whole different story? She put her thumb in her mouth to stay quiet, something he wasn’t overly concerned about as he moans again. She just ended up wishing it was his cock in her mouth instead.

His toes start to curl, and his head is thrown back against the pillows, he has no idea she’s watching him do this— this very intimate and personal thing… but then again why was he doing it so close to when he said she could come over??  

It’s almost like he wanted to get caught. 

She tiptoes closer to the door so she can get the best seat in the house for a show she’s dreamed about for years. He’s breathing heavily, with his other fist now shoved in his mouth to keep quiet, yet he’s still making cute little noises. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he looks so close to the edge, it’s so hot that she makes an involuntary whine, just as the floor creeks under her feet.

His eyes flash to her as cum shoots all up his stomach, his cock twitching in his hand still, his eyelids heavy, the high is too good for him to freak out about being caught. He lets it wash over him, enjoying it as best he can but it was still ruined. 

He looks at her with horrified eyes after he’s completely finished, rejoining the moment and turning bright pink with embarrassment when he realizes she’s really actually there. He didn’t dream that... she was actually in his doorway with her thumb in her mouth and her thighs clenched together. She saw everything. She’s still seeing everything. 

“I’m sorry,” she rushes the words out, “you looked so hot… I— I didn’t mean to interrupt or, or anything.”

He can’t speak, frozen in shock. 

She licks her lips before sucking on the bottom one slightly, she thinks it over quickly and then starts approaching him. Standing at the edge of his bed now, “do you do that often? Before I sleep over?” She asks.

He nods slowly, “um, in the shower, mostly but I uh, I didn’t have time… clearly.” 

“Ah,” she smirks. “Thought I heard those beautiful noises somewhere else before…” thinking back to the mornings she’s woken up after him to hear the shower running.

“Why aren’t you mad?” He asks, sitting up and reaching for his tissues on his side table so he could clean up his chest. He doesn’t look for his shirt, she’s so used to seeing him shirtless that it’s nothing new to her. 

“Do you mind if I sit here with you?” She pats the end of the bed, getting on before he can even say no. “I’m not mad 'cause it’s not like you did anything wrong… it’s your body and you were alone and in your own home, I’m the one who creeped on you. I’m sorry.” He’s silent, it worries her, so she panics. “Are you mad at me?”

He shakes his head furiously, “no, no, never. I just… god, I hate myself for this—“

“What?”

“What if I erm… what if— you know, I could’ve possibly— in the past that is, not this time, but uh…” he can’t find a way to get it out. 

“Do you think about me when you jerk off?” She smirks, filling up with glee. “Really?”

“You’d like that?” His demeanour changes quickly. 

She nods, feeling like sharing a vulnerability will make them even. “I’ve thought about you before… during my alone time. So—

“You think about me jerking off?” He can’t believe it, he looks at her like she just said could time travel or took up sword swallowing. He looked at her like she was crazy. 

She nods again, staring at his lips and then down to his messy chest with a sigh. “And other things.”

“Tell me,” he begs with a groan bubbling in his throat. “Please? I wanna know what you think about when you touch yourself…”

“One condition,” she stands up again and reaches for the tissues on his night table to help clean him up the mess he already made. “Sleepovers don’t stop because we got horny today, okay?” She asks while leaning over him and wiping the tissue over his chest. 

“Sleepovers with sex sound nice,” he compromises, “I mean come on, everyone already thinks we’re fucking during these anyway.” 

“Gareth and Jeff aren’t everyone—

“Steve Harrington asked me if I was bangin’ you,” he cuts her off, proving his point.

Her eyes grow wide, “no he didn’t?” 

He nods with a shit-eating grin, “yep. He didn’t believe me when I said we watch movies and cuddle all night… told me I should make a move sometime soon, too.”

“I mean, it’s a little weird that we haven’t fucked yet,” she admits with a coy shrug. “I thought you would’ve made a move ages ago.” 

“So did I,” he rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He sits up then, buttoning up his pants while she tosses out the tissue and then rejoins him on the bed. “I really like you, if that wasn’t obvious already…”

“It was,” she can’t help but smile. “Did you not realize I’ve been crushing on you for years? Like way before the whole end of the world/ dead girl in your trailer thing happened…”

“Really?” He can’t comprehend it at all. “I didn’t think you started liking my back till recently?”

“Why’s that?” She laughs, “is it all the sexy things I’ve been wearing to bed?”

That was the first step in her secret plan to make him act up, wearing basically nothing beside him every time they slept together because she was “too hot”… 

“Duh? Why do you think I shower every morning before you wake up?” He explains. “It’s not 'cause I wanna be up that early, but my little friend always is.” 

She laughs, looking down at his jeans where he was hardening up again. “What’s your turnaround like?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” he carefully reaches out for her but she has other plans, she gets into his lap as his hand lands on her cheek, bringing her face forward so their foreheads bump. “I want to focus on you… My god, I’ve thought about this for so long.” 

She pulls away and reaches for the hem of the dress she threw on earlier and pulls it off, tossing it to the floor and looking at him with a playful smirk, “show me…”

“Fuck,” he groans to himself at the sight of her bra-covered tits and then she reaches behind herself to unclasp her bra, letting the straps fall down her shoulders and then she pulls it off. He flings it toward the floor and his jaw drops. 

Without thinking he uses both hands to cup her boobs and runs his thumbs over each nipple. She bites her lip so she doesn’t moan already but it feels nice… “Eddie,” she whispers, drawing his attention back up to her eyes. 

His eyes are so blown out with lust for her, she can barely see the brown anymore, she can almost see herself in the reflection of his pupil it’s that dark. 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you sure?” She worries just a bit, “this isn’t going to fuck us up?” 

He shakes his head, “no, no, baby, I won’t let it. It would only get fucked up if we pretend there are no feelings here…”

“Yeah,” she agrees with a building smile, replacing any fears she had.

She leans in and presses her lips to his, taking a leap of faith and hoping she sticks the landing… he’s a bit shocked to feel her lips on his but he settles quickly, closing his eyes and kissing her softly in return while his hands spread around to her back. Her skin is so warm, and his hands are so big, it just feels right for him to pull her flush to his chest and kiss the bejesus out of her. 

She pulls away only when she needs a breath, staring deeply into his eyes again, she cups his face in her hands, “I lied… it’s not just a crush.” 

“Good, 'cause it's not for me either,” he admits. “Let me show you how much I feel for you…” 

“Okay,” she feels a little breathless, it’s her turn to not believe what’s happening. He might love her back. Thats all she’s ever wanted. 

With another kiss, Eddie lays her back down on the mattress, taking his time as he kissed down her body, towards the small little panties she had on. He looked up into her eyes when he reached your belly button, asking if it was okay for him to keep going. She gripped his hair and pushed him down further, feeling him smile against her skin as he yanked her panties down her legs and tossed them with the rest of her clothes.

She watches in awe as he kisses from her knee down her thighs and finally, spreads her cunt open enough to kiss exactly where she wants him.

“So fucking wet,” he mummers, “sweet fuck…”

She gives him a satisfied hum, “all for you… always for you.”

He dives in and her hands reach for his hair with a shout, her hips shutter at the contact. It’s pleasure like she’s never felt before, the emotional connection they’ve been building for years finally toppled over into romance and sex and it’s everything she hoped and dreamed of. 

The closer she gets, the more she begs, grinding against his face and pushing him in deeper. That’s when she feels his fingers at her core and pushing inside of her. One first, two quickly thereafter, it felt too fucking good to be real. “Please?” She chants, “Oh god, please?”

“Let go,” he mumbles, his words captured by her pussy and kept in her core as she cums on his face.

It was heaven on earth, she always knew he'd be amazing but she had no idea he'd be this good. The feeling of her orgasm peaking and then dwindling all while his tongue stayed on her clit and the feeling of his thick fingers inside of her just made her want more. She pulled on his hair once more, out of breath and hornier than she’s ever been in her life, ”get in me,” she orders, “please, I need you to fuck me so bad…”

He was fully out of his jeans and kneeling between her legs before she could count to 10.  She watched as he grabbed a condom from his side table and waited in anticipation as he put it on. He glides his cock towards her entrance like it was the end of the world tomorrow and she felt the same amount of haste. She needed him desperately, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him in closer as he slipped fully inside. 

She had never in her life been this feral for a man. She couldn't believe how good he felt, slipping in inch by inch until he bottomed out and wrapped his arms around her. Chest to chest, closer than ever before, he’s breathing heavily in her ear between the kisses he leaves on her shoulder and neck, not wanting to move yet, he had to get used to how fantastic it felt to be inside of her or this would be over way too soon. 

She runs her hands down his back gently, “Eddie?” She whispers in his ear. “Eddie, please fuck me. Please, I need it.” 

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” he pushes himself up with one arm and stares down at her. With his other hand, he traces down her side, following the curve of her body until he reaches her hips. He slowly pulls out and pushes back in, finding a slow and steady pace, “you’re lucky I came already, princess, fuck you feel so good.” 

She hums in agreement, tipping her head back against the mattress, “you’re so deep…” she grips his arm, the one he’s using to steady himself. The one thats flexing so hard his veins are prominent and his muscles are nice and she’s so gone for him already. “Oh my god,” she moans as he picks up the pace, fucking into her with more passion and then he stills again. 

He sits on his knees and places both hands on her knees, running his fingers slowly down the inside of her thighs as he starts to fuck her again. Watching himself enter her over and over again, he rubs her clit with his right thumb, smiling to himself when she tosses her head back with another moan. “I always knew you’d be so responsive.” 

She cups a hand around her breast with one hand and grips the sheets with the other, “uh-huh,” she can barely thinks he’s so deep inside of her, kissing her cervix with every thrust, he’s filling her up so good she could cum just from this… but he’s not at the right angle. “Can you, fuck, can— Jesus Christ, I need a pillow,” she rushes the words out, having a hard time with just how good he feels. 

“Where?” He grabs one from the head of the bed and he’s ready to shove it where ever she wants it. 

“Under me,” she lifts her hips and he slots it right in and continues to fuck her, deeper, angled up more, hitting her G-spot as well now. “Oh fuck, there, right there…” 

He groans then too, feeling her clench around him as if she was trying to get him to go even deeper, somehow. He leans down to give her a kiss and she wraps her left hand around the nape of his neck while her right one trails down his back and cups his ass. Her legs wrap around him then too, keeping him in place while he fucks her and makes out with her at the same time. It’s fucking glorious. She can feel him everywhere, he can feel her, both inside and out, they’re so close it’s like they’ve become one person. 

She moans into the kiss, turning her head to the side so he can keep kissing her cheek and he talks between kisses too. Mumbling obscenities and sweet niceties, telling her she feels so good and he can’t believe it… and then he says it. 

“Oh, I love you, I love you so much,” he pants against her, sloppily kissing her cheek and jaw. 

Her grip on him tightens, she moans louder than she expected and pushes up against him, “say it again?” She begs. 

“I love you,” he rushes out, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says with each thrust. 

He grips the underside of her knee and pushes her leg up more, fucking into her at another new angle, he grinds against her so his pubic bone hits her clit and she’s gone. He feels her start to tremble, her cunt tightens like a vice and he knows she’s going to cum soon. So he keeps telling her, whispering that he loves her between each thrust and kiss and touch and oh she feels every ounce of love he has to give her. 

She doesn’t mean to cry but tears slip out of her eyes and run down her cheeks, it’s all too much. She loves him, she loves getting fucked by him, she loves being here and experiencing this and hearing the truth from his soft lips. Her back arches and he reaches between them to rub her clit for good measure, “let go, it’s okay,” he whispers against her. “I’ve got you.” 

“Oh, Eddie!” She grips his skin so tight he knows he’s going to have scratches all down his back when they’re done but he doesn’t care. Not when she’s chanting his name and coming undone underneath him. 

The feeling of her release is too much for him, he ruts into her like mad, losing all rhythm and just chasing his won high now. He cums within seconds of her, still feeling her flutter around his cock as he releases into the condom and drops down against her, knocking the wind out of her for a second time. 

There’s a ringing in his ears after he cums, he almost feels like he blacks out and then he feels her running her fingers through his hair and the reverberation from her voice. “What?” He sits up a bit and looks at her. 

She giggles, “I said I love you, dingus.” 

“Oh,” he smiles and drops back down to the crook of her neck, he kisses her neck and sighs. “I love you, too.” 

They stay like that for a minute or two, until their breathing settles and everything settles in. That really just happened. He goes to sit up and pull out and she whines, pouting up at him, she immediately covers her hands over her boobs, “can we cuddle again once we clean up?”

He nods, “of course?” 

“Good,” she gets up with him and finds her panties on the floor, she takes them and her dress with her to the bathroom and then she’s gone. 

He takes the condom off and tosses it in the trash, he puts on a pair of boxers and a shirt and sits back down in his bed. He puts the pillows back where they belong and notices the wet spot she left behind on his mattress. It makes him smile even though he knows he’s going to have to wash his sheets tomorrow and thats a pain in the ass. But she isn’t. 

She walks back in with just her panties on and places her dress on his dresser before opening the drawer and grabbing a shirt. “I don't want to wear that right now.” 

“That’s fine,” he doesn’t mind, he actually prefers it when she wears his stuff. It’s hot. 

She goes for the biggest shirt he has, one he keeps clean and in the top drawer just for her, and she puts it on quickly before rushing the bed and hopping in. She climbs back on top of him, straddling his hips and burying her face in the crook of his neck. She wraps her arms around his middle and sighs, “that was nice…” 

“Yeah, it was,” he runs his hand over her back and kisses the side of her head. “I mean it, you know…?”

She nods, and he feels it, “I know, I could tell… you know I mean it too, right?” 

“Yeah,” he smiles and hugs her tightly. “We’re so in love,” he teases, starting to gently rock them back and forth. 

She laughs, “it's about fuckin’ time.” 

“You should walk in on me more oft—

"Oh hush," she smacks his arm and laughs, pulling away so she can look at him, she cups his cheek again, looking at his lips and then back up to his eyes, “you don’t have to jerk off before I come over ever again. Not if you make me your girlfriend… then this can be sex and a movie night.” 

He shakes his head, smiling cause he can’t do anything else, he loves her too much, “okay… fine, will you be my girlfriend, then?” 

She nods, “I will. I’ll be the best damn girlfriend in the whole fucking world for you.” 

“You won’t have to try too hard,” he leans forward and brushes his nose against hers. “You’re already pretty wonderful to me.” 

“Speaking of,” she smirks, “there’s beer and chips in the kitchen waiting for you.” 

“I love you,” he says again, “not just cause you bring me food. I love everything about you. All of it. Every single ounce of you, your personality, your humour, your mind, your smile… everything. I love you.” 

She pulls him in for another kiss then, pressing them to his lips and his cheeks, making him laugh as she covers his whole face in smooches. “I love you so much more than I could even express, Eddie…” 

“So let's find the words together,” he teases. “We’ve got forever if you want it?” 

She nods, “forever beside you sounds good.” 

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Eddie

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