#fridays are usually low spoon days for me so i need to sleep a bit more

[keichan]

The Confession (Part 2)

You had a crush on your friend Bokuto Koutarou in high school. Though he rejected you, you moved on years later. Or so you thought.

Part 1

wc: 2.3k

A/N: This was requested through an anon however I won’t be taking requests off of originals anymore. Truthfully this was really difficult to write since the rejection was actually something that had happened to me about a month ago with a pretty good friend of mine. Anyways feel free to send me requests and headcannons of other things! My inbox is DRY!!

“Hey. Let me in.” Bokuto’s voice sounded clear as day over the phone.

“I didn’t know you were back in Tokyo. Why are you outside the apartment?” You were on the brink of sleep when he called.

“Didn’t Akaashi tell you that I was visiting? It’s been a while. C’mere.”

You sighed. Bokuto has tried his best to keep in touch with you since he had graduated. The first year was simple per usual. Though you admitted you distanced yourself from him. However since you and Akaashi became roommates and started college. You just didn’t have time.

“Hey. “ You quietly opened the front door to let him in. He looked good as ever. He pulled you tightly into a hug as he sighed into your hair. 

“Long time no see, huh?” He pulled away and started walking towards your bedroom. You yawned as you followed him inside. He stood at the door way as he studied the walls. You tapped on his shoulder gently and stepped around him to sit on your bed.

“So are you gonna crash on the couch again?” You yawned. He nodded. Still standing.

“I’ve had something on my mind for a while now and I’ve gotta say, I was wrong.” He said plainly.

“About?” You body perked up in bed. His golden eyes turned to you. The moonlight that peaked through the blinds illuminated his face.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to do it, but I have more time than I could have imagined since I’ve gone pro-“

“What are you talking about?” You propped yourself up, swinging your legs onto the ground. Bokuto wasn’t the kind of person to sound cryptic. 

He sat on the bed beside you, now looking to the ceiling. Studying the cracks, the texture before returning his gaze to you.

“You know. Two years ago I said no because I thought it would be more beneficial for the both of us. I didn’t want to hinder you at all. So I acted like it meant nothing.” He sighed as he laid onto your bed. Eyes back to the ceiling. You swallowed a lump in your throat. What was he talking about?

“I don’t even know if you’d even still be interested. I mean we don’t talk as much. It was even a little awkward for a while.” He continued.

“I was hoping that you would want to give it a try.” He closed his eyes as he sucked in a breath, flailing his arms behind him.

“Give what a try?” 

His body shot straight up and he looked at you knowingly.

“You know!” 

Your hand quickly clamped onto his mouth. 

“Akaashi’s asleep right now. You need to be quiet.” 

He nodded as your hand slid down onto your lap.

“You know!” He whispered. “When you asked me out and I said no.  That whole thing. I want to date. Or at least try.” 

You gave him a dumbfounded look. 

“You’re funny, Bokuto. I’ll give you that. I think I’m going to go to sleep now, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You began to get under your blankets, facing away from Bokuto.

“But, I”m being serious.” 

“Goodnight, Bokuto.” You heard him sigh as the weight from the foot of your bed lifted. Your bedroom door creaked closed. You stared at your bedroom wall. The smallest, dumbest conversation made your feelings resurface.

-

“So where is she?” Bokuto dug into the breakfast that Akaashi had prepared for them.

“Oh? She’s on a breakfast date with some guy from her biology class.” 

Bokuto froze with his spoon in his mouth.

“Date?” His voice is slightly muffled by the utensil. Akaashi nodded as he pressed his coffee cup to his lips. The steam fogged up his glasses ever so slightly. 

“Yeah. I think he asked her last Friday. She left about two hours ago.” He placed the cup on the table looking at him knowingly. Bokuto stared into his food and flipped it over, cutting it into small bits. Akaashi glanced at his friend as the front door opened.

“Hey! Oh Akaashi! I didn’t know you were cooking this morning!” You looked over the counter before you reached into the cabinet to  grab yourself a plate.

“You’re still hungry?” He questioned.

“Yeah! We ended up eating pretty quick and walked around the park off of campus! It was pretty nice!” Once you realized that Bokuto was poking at his food, you sunk awkwardly into the chair next to him. He didn’t say a word or even look at you.

“So!” You took a bite of your second breakfast.  “What do you two have planned out today?”

“I have to go to a study group for English tonight. I’m not doing too well.” Akaashi stood to pour himself another cup of coffee. The sound of the liquid sputtering into the glass raised an unbeknownst tension between you and the gray-haired man beside you.

“I guess we can watch movies or something.” Your stomach dropped with the realization that your roommate has class at noon. Akaashi checked his watch as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

“I’m going to class. See you guys.” As soon as the door closed the silence was deafening. It felt like the two of you were sitting there for an hour, when in all reality the two of you finished eating in silence for three minutes. You made a poor excuse that you were going to take a nap. He tried to bicker with you to spend time with him, but you ignored the man as your bedroom door loudly closed behind you.

-

You groaned as you sat up in bed. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you rose and made your way to the kitchen. You slowed as you saw Bokuto looking around in the fridge. Using his other hand he was using a towel to dry his hair.

You let out a breath you didn’t know that you were holding. What do you say? Or do you not say anything. May as well pretend that the run in never happened. Again…

Turning on you heel, you proceeded to go back to your room, when a hand grabbed your shoulder,

“Y/N.” You turned to see Bokuto. Face to face he gave you a small smile. Drops of water littered his forehead. He was so close. 

“When are we gonna talk about last night? Or are you gonna brush it off until I leave?” He spoke in a low tone. His eyes not leaving yours once. You attempted to turn away from him, but he yanked your wrist towards him. Nose to nose now, you gulped as you leaned away from him, but he followed.

“Why’re you avoiding me?” His eyes reflected the dim light from your kitchen stove. 

“I’m not-”

“I know when you’re lying to me.” HIs grip tightened slightly. Bokuto’s breath fanned your face. Your eyes scurried, looking everywhere, but him.

“Just tell me.” He said gently.

“You don’t get to do this to me.” You squeezed your eyes shut, turning your head away from him once more,

“Do what?”

“Do you understand how long it took for me to get over you? I had to pretend like it didn’t bother me for the end of the year! I never ever told Akaashi what happened because I didn’t want it to affect the dynamic of our friendship. I was in love with you and I had to deal with that. You don’t get to tell me that you were wrong and you finally want to go out. You don’t get to say whatever you want so loosely when I know it doesn’t affect you the way it does me!” 

HIs hand fell slack to his side. His head tilted to the side. His face was solemn.

“You know that’s not true.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You held your wrist that he held to your chest. At this point your body was trembling. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or yell.

“I knew you liked me. I didn’t want to hold you back at all. I didn’t want to be a let down to you when I left. I took the last two years to be a better version of myself so that we can work out. I just wanted to be normal for you.” He clasped his hands together awkwardly. You nodded before waking to your room. He called after you, his footsteps creaking after yours. You slid down to the floor. You felt the door shudder on the other side, assuming Bokuto had done the same, tears began to slide down your cheeks.

Hugging your knees to your chest, Bokuto began to speak on the other side of the door.

“You know. From the moment I saw you I liked you. You accepted me for me and I loved that. I loved spending time with you everyday. I enjoyed every second of it. These negative thoughts kinda began to eat at me.” He choked on his sentence. You heard a deep inhale before he continued. “What if you get sick of me. I saw how my teammates would treat me sometimes. But I couldn’t help with the way I acted. It was just me. I couldn’t change that some things had me down in the dumps. Then it was the whole what if she likes me back? She’ll date me and then look at me how everyone else does. She’ll be around me too long and I’ll have to put up a front that’s actually appealing to you so you won’t leave. Just you leaving.” His voice faded. 

You studied the wood floors at your feet. The way the crevices connected into each other. You made patterns along them to pass the time. Words couldn’t escape your lips. The minutes passing felt like hours. Your heart had a dull ache. 

“And then you said that to me in the gym that day.” He began.

“When you said that, it was everything that I had ever wanted to be truthful. Though at the same time all I could think of was why would you like me? I don’t dislike myself by any means, but I just couldn’t understand why someone as good as you could like me. I couldn’t say yes and let you down. So I said no. Then I saw you the next day and it was like nothing had happened. So I assumed that it wasn’t a big deal to you. I assumed that it was just a simple phase of your life for you. And for me…  For me..” He paused.

“I’m going to sleep. I’m sorry that I disrespected your personal boundaries. I’ll leave in the morning. I wish you the best.”

Tears silently poured from your eyes. You looked for patterns in the wooden panels again to soothe yourself. Maybe this was for the best. Just to part ways…

No.

You shakily rose to your feet, resting your hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath before opening the door. Your legs carried you to the living room. But Bokuto wasn’t there. The blankets that he had used to sleep on the couch were nicely folded on top of the pillow he had used. His gym bag was gone.

You went to the bathroom. The lights were off. Towels were hung nicely. His toiletries were gone.

You ran your hands through your hair as your stared around the room anxiously. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes once again.

Exiting the room you made way to the kitchen. A note on the fridge.

Y/N, Akaashi

I had to get back to Osaka early! Coach called me earlier and I didn’t want to inconvenience the two of you since you guys were already asleep.

Till next time

Bo

You crumpled the note in your hand. It had probably been at least fifteen minutes since he had left your bedroom door. He couldn’t have made it that far. 

You took off through the front door. Barreling down the stairs you made it to the street. You turned the corner to the train station, you saw him.

“Koutarou!” You shouted. The tall man turned to see you. His eyes were red and puffy. He took the palm of his hand to wipe at his eyes.

“You know Tokyo is dangerous at night. You shouldn’t be running around. You’re not even wearing any shoes. What if someone littered and you stepped on a broken bottle.” He cried harder as he kept looking at you. He took both of his hands and covered his eyes.

“Koutarou, the trains aren’t running right now. Come back with me.” 

He shook his head. “I don’t want to inconvenience you. I know you don’t want to be by me right now so I’ll just sleep in the station until they start running.”

You froze in front of the man as he turned his head away from you, continuously wiping his tears away. Not once in the three years that you had known Bokuto Koutarou had you seen him cry.

You stepped towards him slowly. You arms wrapped around his back and you pulled him into a tight hug. You began to sob. You felt your body tremble as cries silently escaped through your mouth. You felt his hands clasp around your back, pulling you closer to his chest.

“Shhh.” He attempted to soothe you. Running his hand repeated over the back of your head.

“You don’t need to cry just because I can’t handle my emotions. You have that guy you’ve been getting breakfast with. You’re doing great with school. Just don’t worry about me.”

You lifted your head off of your chest to meet his gaze. He gave you a sad smile. Reassuring you that it was okay. He had streaks down his cheeks from where his tears had fallen. You used your thumb to wipe them away. 

“But he’s not you.”

You gently pulled him down by the nape of his neck and placed your lips gently on his . His eyes widened in shock. You pulled away, giving him a small smile.

“I hope you know that I would never ever get tired of you. I like you for you. Nothing could ever change that. We’ve waited long enough. Let’s finally give us a try.”

“Really?” His hands rushed up to your cheeks. He held your face as if you were the most delicate thing to exist. Tears welled up in his eyes once more.

“Really.”

He placed his lips on yours once more. Turning his head to deepen the kiss, you placed your hands gently atop of his. You could feel him smiling with every motion.

Pulling away he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s go home.” You stuck your hand out towards him smiling. Your features glowed beautifully under the streetlight. He placed his hand into yours and the two of you returned to your home.

#bokuto #bokuto koutaro #koutarou bokuto #bokuto angst #bokuto fluff #koutarou x reader #koutarou #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu AU #fukurodani #akaashi keiji #keiji akaashi

[scuttling]

First Dates

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 6,151 Tags: SFW, First dates, Making out, Phone calls, Running, Yoga, Fluff Summary: After California, Aaron and Sophie go on three perfectly imperfect dates. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 1 year-1 year 3 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to A03 or read below! “Jet sweet jet,” Prentiss says as they board the plane after California, and Aaron seconds it; the good thing is it’s only Friday afternoon, so at least they get a head start to the weekend, barring another emergency case—not that he doesn’t have piles of work to do, as usual, but it pleases him to think he might get the chance to see Sophie at some point, in an unofficial capacity.

“You know, 14 is when we start to make our own musical choices. Our cognitive development evolves at that age and we start to form our own cultural identity,” he hears Reid say as he sinks down into his seat, headphones hanging around his neck. He and Sophie must be having a conversation about music, because she nods easily.

“That makes sense, actually,” she says, taking the chair across from him. “I remember being obsessed with Bon Jovi around that age, and I was definitely making decisions with my pants.”

Well that’s an interesting piece of information for her to divulge. Reid blushes a little, and pulls on his headphones. Sophie pops in one earbud, looks up at Aaron, smiles, then looks down at her phone and starts typing.

SC: What?

AH: What, what? he replies.

SC: You’re staring.

AH: Maybe I just think you’re worth staring at.

He feels cheesy for saying it, but she grins.

SC: Sure, okay.

SC: Are you going to do work?

AH: You know me.

SC: That’s a yes.

SC: In case I don’t get to talk to you… will you call me tonight?

AH: Absolutely.

She tucks away her phone, succumbs to her—podcast, he guesses by the slight look of concentration on her face—and he works on his paperwork in relative silence, with the ghost of a smile on his face.

“So what are you up to? What do you do when you get home from traveling?” he asks over the phone that night, after they’ve made a little small talk.

“Well, I put a record on—it’s low, so you probably can’t hear it. Bob Dylan.” She’s right, he can’t hear it, but knowing what she chose makes him smile.

“Bob Dylan, Bon Jovi… Your taste in music isn’t what I would have expected.”

“I’ve always been a little behind the times when it comes to music. I like to be able to rely on my faithful favorites.” She pauses, taking a drink maybe, and he can hear kitchen sounds in the background. “I took a nice, hot bath, opened a bottle of wine. I usually make some kind of comfort food, if I have time to stop at the market.” It’s only 8, so that, along with the kitchen sounds, has him betting she’s whipping something up for herself.

“Mmm, what’s on the menu?”

“It’s a dish my papa always used to make when we were sick. It doesn’t sound great—fagioli su pane tostato, which means beans on toast. It’s white beans cooked in this olive oil broth and then served on sourdough toast rubbed with garlic. It tastes so much better than it sounds.”

“It sounds good when you say it in Italian. Maybe we could make it together, some night.” He hopes he’s not imagining the smile in her voice when she replies.

“I’d like that a lot. So what do you do to unwind after traveling?”

“I have a beer, take a long, hot shower—I have a great shower. Sometimes I freeze meals and I’ll warm something up if I feel like it, but tonight it’s Indian takeout.” He takes a sip of said beer, sprawls out further on the couch.

“Oh, what did you get? Indian food is great, I love chana masala on a comfort food day.”

“Ah, I got butter chicken and samosas. My usual; very unoriginal.”

“Can’t go wrong with a samosa though, yum. What else do you like to do to relax? No offense, but you always seem just as stressed on Mondays as you do on Fridays.” He chuckles at that, can see how that would be true.

“Well I have work to do tonight, but on our free weekends I go for a run in the park instead of my neighborhood, or very rarely, I get to play golf.”

“Hmm, you play golf?” Her tone of voice is low, but light, and he struggles to figure out her intent behind that.

“I can’t tell if you’re teasing me…”

“Not teasing, I’m intrigued. I’ve never been golfing or even watched golf before. Mostly I’m trying to visualize you in the little golf outfit, though.” He’s grinning his face off, he’s sure, but he can’t help it; it feels good to flirt with her, to be flirted with by her, openly now. “I run too, or I like kickboxing, Pilates. I don’t always have time to get to the gym anymore, so I do home workouts when I can. Yoga every day.” So, he knows she does yoga, is always packing her yoga blanket when they travel for cases, but left to sit and imagine it for a moment… how she looked on vacation, tiny outfit, bendy body...

“Talk about something to visualize,” he adds, very boldly, he thinks, and she hums down the line. He hopes his flirting affects her the way hers affects him.

“Yeah, we were doing so good there for a minute and now I can’t think of anything but you in a polo and khakis. Must be the wine.”

“Is that something you find sexy? A polo and khakis? That’s practically church attire.”

“Where you’re concerned, there’s not much I don’t find sexy.” He chuckles, runs his hand through his hair—he knows he looks alright, isn’t un attractive or anything, but sexy? She might be overselling it a little bit.  “I should probably rein that in. Sorry.”

“No, it’s… I like that you feel that way.” He wants to say, ‘if you find me even one tenth as sexy as I find you, it would be a miracle’, but his self-esteem isn’t quite that low. And his doorbell rings. “My delivery is here, muting you for a second.”

“Should I let you go?” she asks when he returns. He can hear the sound of her spoon clinking against her bowl, assumes she’s getting ready to eat, too.

“No. I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d like to listen to you talk some more.”

“Okay. What do you want to hear about?”

“I’d like to hear more about your band in Chicago. Did you write music?”

“One of the guys in my band wrote the music, I just sang it; didn’t have much to say.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he says honestly, because she is always thoughtful and insightful, so smart.

“Well the Sophie you know now is much more open, if you can imagine that. I used to be very closed off. The team helps; hard to be closed off when you’re around someone 24/7.”

“I’m glad you feel that the BAU has been good for you; you’ve been very good for us. And you said you sing at your friend’s bar sometimes? I might have to crash one of these nights so I can see you in action.” She laughs, a little self conscious.

“It's really nothing. Just a good way to blow off some steam. So how about you? Are you musically inclined or anything?”

“I can play the guitar.” Her spoon clinks against her bowl in the background again, and she swallows a bite.

“Hold on. You play guitar? This is important information.” He chuckles.

“How so?”

“Because it’s hot.”

“Maybe I should amend that: I could play the guitar. I haven’t in probably… five years? So I may be completely horrible.”

“Nope, doesn’t matter. If you still own a guitar, you can keep the hotness.”

They both eat, chatting in between bites, and they’ve been on the phone for two hours when she starts yawning. He suddenly has a brilliant idea.

“Do you want to meet up and go for a run tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah, I would really like that,” she says, sounding a little more awake. “Is it a date? Or just two people hanging out that want to see each other naked?” He laughs out loud.

“You want to see me naked? I thought you wanted to see me in khakis.”

“Yes, I want to see you naked; I thought that much was clear when I tried undressing you the other day. I want to see both.”

“It’s a date, then. If you want it to be. I was still working on a plan...”

“No plan necessary. I’m easy to please: I just want to see you, in running clothes or golf clothes or no clothes.”

“I’ll text you the address. Meet me there at 7?”

“It’s a date.” The next morning, he is sitting in his car at the park, and he looks up from his phone to see Sophie walking toward him, impossibly beautiful for 7 AM. Her hair is pulled back in a thick, wavy ponytail, face clear of makeup and looking radiant, softly smiling, and he swears his heart skips a beat.

Isn’t it a little too soon for beat skipping? This is only their first date, after all.

“Good morning,” she says, leaning in his window. She looks around the parking lot, which is fairly secluded at this time of the morning. “How are you?”

“A little tired, but good,” he replies and her smile grows brighter. “You?”

“I’m good. Probably shouldn’t have kept you up so late talking. You need your beauty sleep.” She reaches out to brush a hand over the hair at his temple, and he closes his eyes for a moment, content.

“Well you obviously don’t. How do you look like that at 7 AM?”

“This?” she asks, gesturing to her face and body, as if he needed a reason to look. She is fit and perky in black leggings and a University of Chicago t-shirt, and he mentally hopes that she’s not faster than him, or her ass is going to be very distracting. “Just rolled out of bed and came down. Nothing special about this.”

“I beg to differ.” She leans back in, arms crossed casually, smiles again.

“Well you’re sweet. Hey, have you ever run into someone from work here?” He scans the lot as if her question caused one of their coworkers to materialize out of thin air, then realizes he’s being silly.

“No, I haven’t so far. Why do you ask?” Ducking her head, she looks a little shy, though the corners of her lips are turned up.

“I was just wondering if I’ll get to kiss you today.”

There goes his heart, skipping beats again.

He leans forward, a hand on her cheek, and presses his mouth to hers, slow and soft. He’d almost forgotten how nice it is to kiss someone who likes you—the shared breath, the soft smack of lips, the reluctance to break the kiss—and he touches her chin as they separate. When she opens her eyes, they look dreamy, and he preens a little at causing that reaction.

“Okay, yeah. That’s nice.” He huffs a laugh and she steps away from the car, giving him space to exit. “Ready to run?”

“Was kind of hoping to kiss some more,” he teases, but he climbs out of the car and locks up.

They keep pace together well, chatting easily about their plans for the day, and Sophie points out every dog they pass, which is so endearing his face almost hurts from smiling.

“What is it?” she asks as he shakes his head, laughs, when they pass a corgi puppy that is, admittedly, adorable.

“You’re cute, that’s all. It’s nice to see joy on your face when our lives are usually surrounded by darkness.”

“Thanks. It’s nice to see it on yours, too.” She reaches out to touch his cheek, and he presses against it.

As far as dates go, this one is off to a beautiful start.

“That was fun. I enjoyed spending the morning with you,” she says as they walk back to their cars. He is a little winded, and she isn’t. It’s not entirely fair.

“I agree, it was fun. It’s nice to have a running partner.”

“Is that all I am?” she asks with an innocent expression, and he shakes his head.

“Absolutely not.” He leans in for a quick, sweet kiss that feels as natural as the slower, more passionate kisses they’ve shared, and they both pull back smiling. “Are you hungry?”

“We just ran 4 miles, I’m starving. What do you have in mind?”

“There’s a very casual diner around the corner that makes great breakfast; I’m sure they won’t mind all your sweat,” he teases, gesturing to her shirt.  He’s sweatier by far, which makes it so funny, and she laughs.

“Rude, but I’m in. Lead the way.”

The diner is a favorite of his, somewhere he goes every Saturday he runs in the park. He’s a very habit-driven person, and it wouldn’t feel right to leave without stopping by; that he gets to bring Sophie is just the icing on the cake.

“Do you usually get the same thing when you come here, or are you adventurous?” she asks, looking over the menu.

“I am not adventurous. I get a western omelette with mushrooms, potatoes on the side, almost religiously.” She smiles at him over the menu, and he wonders if she likes that quality, or if he’s one wrong comment away from being seen as an old man and not ‘boyfriend material’. He wonders if he’ll ever stop feeling self conscious about his age, where she’s concerned.

“When I find something I like I am also not adventurous. I stick with what I know.”

“Hi there. You have a friend today, Mr. Hotchner.” He smiles at the voice of his favorite waitress, though he wishes she wouldn’t have made him sound like he’s friendless any other time. She stands between his chair and Sophie’s, grinning.

“Yes Julia, this is Miss Cortes.” Sophie reaches out her hand with a warm smile.

“Sophie, if you like. Nice to meet you, Julia. This guy comes here a lot, huh?”

“Oh yes, he’s one of my favorite regulars: Kind, patient, and easy to please.”

“Great qualities in a man,” Sophie jokes, and he’s never heard Julia laugh so hard. She tends to have that effect on people, he thinks. “I feel special, then, being invited to your spot,” she says, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I'm fairly certain you’re the first person he’s ever brought, so you must be special, hon.” Julia gives her a wink, and he’d be embarrassed but… she’s right. And he didn’t invite her here lightly. Sharing this place means something to him. “So I know your fella wants the western with mushrooms, potatoes on the side, OJ with his coffee. How about you, sweetie?”

“Oh, um,” Sophie begins, and it looks like she’s blushing at the whole ‘fella’ thing. It’s too cute. “Mixed grill please, with cheddar, and I’ll have orange juice too. Thank you.”

When Julia walks away, Sophie crosses her arms on the table, looks at him.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I’m just… enjoying myself. Being with you.” She reaches out a hand, and he takes it, smiling softly. They don’t move until Julia comes back with their plates and they need to make room.

“This has been the most fun date I’ve ever been on. I don’t want it to end,” she says as they walk back to the parking lot, bellies full of food.

“But?”

“But I know inviting you back to my place wouldn’t be a great idea yet. Well, it would be a great idea, but I know that taking it slow is important. And I can’t promise I wouldn’t get handsy again.”

“Taking it slow is important,” he agrees, and he leans down to kiss her, warm, lingering, “but maybe we could get handsy after our second date.”

“Mmm. I’m content with just kissing if you keep kissing me like that. Touching will just be a bonus.” They kiss more, easy, casual kisses that make them both smile. “So you want to go on another date with me?” she asks as they approach her car.

“Absolutely. I really like you.” He takes her hands in his, squeezes them. “Like you said before, I think it was something I’ve been trying not to feel for a while.”

“I think there’s a lot you try not to feel. I’m glad you’re willing to give me a chance.” They kiss again, and it feels like goodbye. “Are you sure you can’t go to the farmers’ market with me?” He’d love to, but he has to do some extra work to make up for last night and this morning.

“Yeah, I wish I could. Next week, for sure.”

“Okay, that sounds good. I’ll let you go—for the record, I don’t want to,” she says, and she takes a step back, so their arms are stretched further.

“Neither do I. I’ll call you later,” he promises, and he drops her hands, walks away.

When he looks back, she’s looking at him too, soft, and she waves goodbye.

He’s officially a goner.

“Did you have a good time at the farmers’ market?” he asks later, when they speak on the phone that evening.

“Oh yeah, great haul. I just hope I get to eat it all before we inevitably get called to leave town. I should freeze stuff like you. There was music, too, and so many dogs. How was your day?”

“It was good, productive.” She chuckles softly.

“Sounds like a blast.”

“I had my fun with you, this morning. And now.”

“Aw. That makes me happy. I had fun too. And I love talking on the phone with you. It’s my favorite part of the day.” He can hear the water running in the background. “What are you doing now?”

“Are you sure you want to hear? It’s very sexy.” She hums, thoughtful.

“Then yes, absolutely I want to hear.”

“I’m folding laundry.”

“I know you said that as a joke, but I can find a way to make it arousing. It’s a gift I have, apparently, where you’re concerned.” It’s his turn to hum down the line.

“Really? Tell me more.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m thinking of your arms flexing as you fold. Thick, careful fingers. The look on your face when you concentrate. Then, of course, it’s your clothes, so I’ll think of you putting them on… taking them off. See? Laundry is now sexy. It’s a talent.”

“That is impressive. What are you doing?”

“I’m prepping my fruit and veggies for the week. I got some flowers, so I’ll put them in a vase. Then maybe watch a movie.”

“Okay, that just sounds sweet.”

“Well I am sweet, Mr. Hotchner,” she says innocently, and he grins.

“Of course you are. What movie?”

“I think Bringing Up Baby. It always makes me laugh.”

“That’s Cary Grant, right?”

“Yes, I love Cary Grant—so tall, dark, handsome… I guess I have a type.”

They discuss movies some more, their favorite classics, her favorite actors. The night is winding down, though, and he has more work to do.

“Are you going to run tomorrow?” he asks when it’s clear the conversation will be ending soon.

“I think you wore me out today, so probably just some yoga in the park. You could come with me; have you ever done yoga?”

“No, but I’d be happy to try. What time?”

“Let’s say 8? I’ll send you the address to the park I like, and then I can treat you to breakfast at my spot.”

“Oh, so it’s a date, then,” he says, leading, and she laughs softly.

“Yes, it’s a date. I have a mat you can use, so just bring yourself and some water and I’ll take care of the rest.” “So this is called Cat Pose - just think Halloween cartoon cat,” Sophie explains the following morning, from her hands and knees, rounding her back so she looks just like the image she mentioned. “When you alternate with Cow Pose, it’s the best stretch, like waking up late on a Sunday morning and stretching in the sun coming through the curtains.”

It’s a great thought, makes him imagine Sophie sprawled across his bed, brown skin, dark hair, soft lips, smooth legs…

“Aaron?” He blinks at the sound of his name, turns to face her, and she’s smiling softly. “Thought I lost you for a sec. Next is Downward Facing Dog, so straighten your knees and send your butt up to the sky.” He watches as she does it, legs looking long and lean and strong, and he tries to replicate it as best as he can. “You’re doing really good for a beginner. This pose in particular usually sucks for a while.” She comes out of her pose, stands in front of him and presses her hands to his back. “Flat back, if you can, or bend your knees a little; I’m not trying to get sexy, I swear.” He laughs indulgently, and she steps back onto her mat with a grin.

They shift into some standing poses after a moment, Sophie checking in on him with a soft expression, and he is feeling it in his muscles by the time they drop into Plank.

“Almost done. Is it harder than you thought?” she asks, looking absolutely effortless as she supports herself on her hands, and he has to huff a laugh.

“It is, actually,” he admits, his arms quaking a bit. “People who do yoga have my utmost respect.” She lifts one arm, wraps it around her back, and she’s got to be just showing off now. She’s barely sweating.

“Yeah it takes more strength than people usually think. It’s not just all about being bendy and zen. Lower down slowly, no belly flop. Then turn onto your back, arms and legs out—this is the best part.” She closes her eyes, sighs deeply, and he can see how this would be her favorite. His entire body is sore, and before today he would have considered himself in good shape.

They rest and breathe, and when she finally sits up for a swig of water, he does the same. “You thought I wore you out yesterday? I won’t have trouble sleeping for a week,” he teases, and she bites her lip, smiles.

“Good. Maybe I can talk you into this more often. It’s fun.” He nods, panting a little from guzzling his water.

“Fun for you to make an old man suffer, that is.” She swats at his arm, and she stands, offering him a hand and helping him to his feet; they roll up the mats, take them back to her car, and head down the block to her café of choice.

It’s definitely a little more upscale than his diner, but still comfortable—they aren’t out of place in their activewear, and the woman seating them greets Sophie by name.

“So they can absolutely make you a western omelette,” Sophie says when they open their menus, “but if you trust me, I can make a suggestion.”

“I’ll take your suggestion. Let’s see how well you know me,” he offers as a challenge, and she smiles, something adorable that scrunches her nose.

“Oh, it’s a deal. You’ll love your breakfast so much you’ll weep, Aaron, I promise you.” She scans the menu again, and by the time the server comes around to take their orders, she confidently names dishes he didn’t even bother to look at. He wants to be surprised.

She gets a breakfast quesadilla for herself, which he steals a bite of, and the dish she ordered for him is a mess of potatoes and ham and eggs and cheese and veggies that he polishes off so quickly it’s almost embarrassing.

Then there are carrot cake pancakes to share, so sweet they’re almost dessert, and when she offers him the last piece she presents it on her fork, looks him over seriously when he leans in and takes the bite. It’s been all fun and easy laughter all morning, but he’s suddenly warm in a way that has nothing to do with the exercise and everything to do with the company, and he thinks she feels it too.

She pays, tips very well, and they hold hands when they walk back to the park; she leans in, presses her nose to his shoulder, and sighs when they’re about halfway there.

“I could get used to this,” she murmurs, and he looks down into her warm brown eyes and nods his agreement.

“So could I. Maybe we could make it a thing,” he offers, and her returning smile is brilliant.

“Yeah, I would like that.” They get to her car, and he crowds her up against it, kisses her deeply; she licks her bottom lip when they pull apart, and it’s gorgeous, feels a little indulgent for the park.

“As much as I’ve enjoyed our dates this weekend, I would like to take you somewhere in the evening, this week, if we can.” He knows it’s old fashioned, but he wants her to know he’s serious about them, and he feels like drinks or dinner set the tone he’s looking for. She nods her head.

“Sure, okay. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.” They kiss again, a little sweeter, this time, since there are families present, and when he steps away from her, she looks a little dazed. “Just remember, you promised me handsy, and if you keep kissing me like that, I’m going to deliver.” He smirks a bit.

“Message received.” His next kiss is just a light, barely there brush of lips, and she smiles when it breaks. “Call me later, if you want. I’ll just be doing work.”

“Okay. Thanks for doing yoga with me,” she murmurs, and he touches her chin.

“Thanks for breakfast. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” she repeats, and she turns around to open her car door, forgets that it’s locked. She bows her head like she’s embarrassed, but he can only laugh. She is so god damn adorable. They see each other again on Tuesday night.

AH: Done kind of early today. Was thinking about going to get a drink.

SC: A drink sounds nice. Do you want company?

AH: When it’s you? Always.

AH: Can we go to your friend's bar?

SC: Of course. There’s open mic tonight, if that’s what you’re getting at.

AH: That’s what I’m getting at.

SC: 717 Carson St, 7:30? - it looks shady, but it’s not, I promise.

AH: A glowing review.

SC: 😋

“You look so good,” is the first thing out of her mouth when he approaches her table, and it makes him laugh, duck his head. She is always so quick to dish out compliments, and while he’s not used to thinking of himself as attractive, hasn’t had a reason to in a while, it does make him feel good.

“Uh, thank you,” he says, trying not to be awkward about it. “You look beautiful, as always.” She does, too, so gorgeous in a tight white sweater and tighter back jeans—she’s too gorgeous for him by far, but he’s certainly not complaining.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and she stretches up on her toes to kiss him softly on the mouth; he thinks the chances of anyone they know coming to this shady looking bar called Lloyd’s, unprompted, are pretty slim to none, so he encourages her kisses. “Mmm. Do you want to come up to the bar with me? My friend Ben is working, I wanted to introduce you to him.”

“Sure, of course.” She takes his hand, and they each order a beer, and he is introduced to Ben, the bartender, Monty, the guitar player, and Racquel, the manager, all of whom are very kind and appear pleased to meet him; apparently, Sophie has mentioned him once or twice. It’s so endearing.

They sit down, talk a little, order another round of beers, and when it’s Sophie’s turn to sing, she sighs lightly, shoots him a shy smile.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” she says, pressing her lips to his, and she heads up to the stage.

“Give it up for Lloyd’s favorite rock balladeer, Sophie Cortes!” That seems, to Aaron, much more official than just blowing off some steam, and he’s prepared to find out that she severely underestimated her talent; what he’s not prepared for, however, is how incredibly beautiful she looks and sounds when she sings a slow, romantic Bon Jovi song, earning applause from a group of regulars who are clearly familiar with her singing.

She waves at them, blushing a little, and when she comes back to him, he pulls her close for a tender kiss.

“You are amazing. What are you doing at the FBI? You should be selling out stadiums, or something.” She laughs.

“I don’t know about that, Aaron, but thank you. It’s something I love to do, but it’s not a career.” They sit, but he scoots his chair closer to her than before. “You know how it is when you’re a kid; people tell you you can be anything you want to be when you grow up, and then you grow up, and things change. But I’ll always have Lloyd’s, so… it works.” He takes her face in his hands and kisses her again; her fingers brush over the back of this head, and she hums against his lips.

“Can’t believe I’m dating someone who’s practically famous,” he teases when they separate, and she rolls her eyes, blushes.

“Enough, or I’ll make Monty give you his guitar so we can see what you can do.”

“Okay, point taken,” he says, holding up his hands in surrender, and they laugh and talk for a while, until they both remember it’s a work night and they need to head out.

“Where did you park? I’ll walk you to your car,” he says, hand on her back, and she gestures down the street.

“I’m only two blocks away, I walked.” She must see surprise and discomfort in his eyes, because she takes his other hand. “If anyone tries to mess with me, you know they’ll regret it. I'll be fine.”

“I know, but still. I’d feel better if you let me drive you.”

“Well, I’ll never turn you down,” she says sweetly, pulling him down for a kiss, and he gets her into the car, closes the door for her. In a couple of minutes, they are parked in front of her large brown stone building, and they both unbuckle their seat belts, turn to face each other.

“I like Lloyd’s,” he tells her while they sit companionably; it’s clear neither is ready for the night to end. “Everyone is so nice; it definitely feels like a place you’d go.

“Thank you, I think,” she says with a playful smile. He smiles too, feeling great after such a good date, and he leans over for a kiss. Sophie lengthens it, brushing fingers through his hair, and her eyes have that dreamy quality again when they break apart. “Mmm. Can I come over there?” She sets a hand gently on his thigh, and he nods, pushes back his seat to give her more room.

She settles comfortably in his lap, hands on his shoulders, and he brings her to him for a long, steamy kiss. They make out for several minutes, get handsy, as she mentioned before, before she pulls back with a soft sigh. “Can I tell you something?” she asks, pressing her forehead against his.

“Anything. Always.”

“I’ve thought about this—making out in your car—quite a few times. The first time was the night we went out for my birthday.”

“I really enjoyed myself that night.”

“Me too. I was so happy you came out, and stayed out. And when I told you I loved you, there was so much left unsaid… I hoped you knew.” He smooths his hand over her cheek, his thumb over her bottom lip, and she shivers. “Then you took me home, and you helped me with my shoes, and when you kissed me on my head, I thought: maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way I do. And then we never mentioned it, and nothing ever happened, so I thought maybe I was imagining everything.”

“You weren’t imagining anything. I felt it too.”

“Good,” she murmurs, taking his face in her hands, and they kiss hot, slow. “I think you’re so incredible.”

“I think you’re incredible, too.” He smooths his hands up her back, pressing her closer, and she rolls her hips slowly against him, earning a groan. “Sophie,” he sighs, clutching her. She feels so good, smells so good, it’s almost intoxicating.

“I know,” she breathes, and she looks up at him, eyes serious, chest heaving. “Do you want to come up with me?” He is about to answer with an emphatic yes when someone knocks hard on the window; Sophie starts, bumps her head, and he rubs it with his hand, rolls down the window.

It’s a police officer, because of course it is, and they both wince. He is young, a little cocky, Aaron can tell just by looking at him. Great.

“Good evening. I’d ask what you folks are doing out here, but I think it’s a bit obvious,” he drawls, looking slowly over Sophie’s body where she sits in his lap. “Hiding from your wife, or…?”

“No, sir, we are not,” she answers, clearly a little perturbed but keeping her cool. “We were just about to go inside.”

“That’s good; we like to discourage lewd behavior on our streets, which I’m sure you can understand.” Aaron bristles at that himself.

“Lewd behavior? With all due respect, we were only kissing, and we were about to go inside, like she said. Are you going to attempt to cite us for this?” The officer looks them over thoughtfully, takes out his flashlight.

“Let’s start with some identification.” Sophie sighs, makes to climb off his lap, but he stops her with a hand on her hip.

The situation is uncomfortable enough, but if she vacates his lap… it will only become more awkward for everyone. She presses her lips together like she’s trying not to laugh, slides her driver’s license out of her pocket and hands it to the officer.

“Can she get in the glove box for mine?” he asks, trying to remain respectful even though he instantly hates this man. He nods, and Sophie reaches over, opens the glove box, and pulls out his FBI credentials. She flips it open in front of his flashlight, and he blanches, steps back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t—I wasn’t.” He looks up, nervous. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your evening, sir.”

“You were just doing your job,” Aaron says gently, despite the fact that this is just, so embarrassing. “Are we going to be cited?” To his credit, the kid looks like he’s going to wet his pants. It’s a little funny.

“No, sir, of course not. I—thank you for your cooperation. You two enjoy the rest of your night.” He all but runs back to his squad car, and when he drives away, Aaron and Sophie both burst out laughing.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” she says through fits of giggles, and she leans against him for a hug. “This has to be the worst date you’ve ever been on, right?” He exhales, shakes his head in amusement.

“No. I’d take what just happened a thousand times over if I could relive the rest of tonight.” Her face softens, and she presses her lips softly against his, squeezes his shoulder.

“You are some type of man,” she says when she pulls back, and she looks him over like she wants to devour him. His lap situation had subsided, but apparently not for long. “I think we should probably just call it a night, don’t you?” she asks gently. “I’m thinking we should take that unmistakable sign for what it is.” He nods, because even though the prospect of going upstairs is a very sweet one, the decision may have been a little premature.

“I agree; but just know, more than anything, that I don’t want this evening to end.”

“I know, me neither. But we do have work in the morning; you can call me tomorrow night, though, if you want. I would really like that.”

“It’s a date,” he teases, and they kiss softly a couple of times before she slides back into the passenger’s seat, heads out the door.

He exhales deeply when she’s out of his sight.

#aaron hotchner/original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

[star-lemonade]

The Festival (1/3)

A.C.E Junhee x Reader

Cw: fluff, cross dressing

Rating: T (Series R)

Word count: 3.2 k

Junhee was one of the most attractive people you knew. He was good looking, yes, but that was not the main source of his attractiveness. Somehow he always left you with the impression that he cared about people and put others before himself. You never told anyone but it would be nice to have someone care about you. Taking care of him for a change would be nice too. He seemed like he could use someone being there for him. You sometimes spoke in the company kitchen, but you never met outside of work. Maybe, one day, you would ask him out. Maybe.

That day your business trip took you out to a city you had not been to before. It was only a few hours away by car but you never had a reason to come here. The conference would last for three days, Wednesday to Friday. On the first evening there were some unofficial meetings, but soon the parties moved from the hotel to the city. A historical festival was taking place in the city center. The crowd was a mixture of people wearing modern clothing and hanboks. A lot of the vendors were also dressed in historical clothing. The streets were illuminated by lamps that looked like lanterns with open fire at first glance. The moving orange and yellow bands gave the illusion of flames. Foods from the different booths filled the streets with mouthwatering smells.

You noticed that you had lost the rest of the conference people while exploring the festival. Your stomach began to rumble. It was time to eat something. The selection was a bit overwhelming so you entered the nearest food stand that had some tables. Even here the historical feel was present. The low tables stood on elevated platforms with the guests sitting on cushions on the platforms. You sat down at the only free table. The waitress wore a beautiful hanbok, but the stress of working at a festival was written in the lines of her young face.

You ordered something to drink and to eat. Your drink arrived fast and you were thankful for it. You were starving but the drink filled your stomach at least temporarily.

Your eyes followed that waitress as she served food to another table. Two women in hanboks sat there. They looked like they were related, maybe they were sisters? One wore blue, the other green.

When the waitress approached them, you could see the face of the sister in green in front view. She looked familiar, but you did not know from where you knew her. You looked away so as to not get caught staring. Your food came and the mystery woman was forgotten. Your basic needs had to be satisfied. It tasted better than it probably was. Junhee. Junhee! That was who the woman looked like. The thought came so suddenly you almost dropped your spoon. He had sisters, that much you knew but did they live here? It’s probably a coincidence.

You finished your meal and decided to move on. The air in the plastic tent was too thick and hot to have a clear thought.

You left the restaurant wondering if it was just your brain seeing Junhee everywhere. Yes that must be it. Lately he had been on your mind a lot. He was a bit clumsy, but there was something charming about that too. Oh man, I have a crush on Junhee, don’t I?

You heard your name from behind you. The woman in the green stood behind you.

“Can we talk?”

Without saying a word you walked away from the crowds of the festival. You felt the tension of the other person and did not dare to speak up. Around a corner a dark patch came into view. The banks of the river were emptier than the streets with its booths. You stopped at one of the benches overlooking the river.

“I guess I should explain.”

Junhee‘s voice was softer than usual. You were sure now that it was him(?).

“You don’t have to. It’s none of my business.”

Junhee seemed to think otherwise. He(?) pressed his(?) lips into a thin line, but did not say anything. Whatever question came to your mind, seemed inappropriate to ask, but the silence began to weigh you.

“That’s a nice hanbok. It looks good on you.”

It was true and Junhee smiled a little.

“Thank you.”

He(?) looked down at the gravel path that spanned the river bank down to the small pedestrian bridge.

“I like being a man.”

He paused, thinking. You did not dare to say anything. This was a very private moment and even sitting on this bench, so close to Junhee felt almost too intimate. He did not have to tell you anything. Junhee nodded more to himself.

“But going out like this. It feels good.”

You touched his arm.

“You really don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I should.”

He insisted.

“Why? If it makes you uncomfortable? Don’t worry I will not tell anyone.”

“Because ..”

He looked away. The river gurgled and a couple strolled by, talking about something. Junhee stood up. His fist clutching the fabric of the hanbok.

“Let’s meet again tomorrow.”

You simply nodded and Junhee took off into the night.

You returned to the hotel tired and worried. The way Junhee had fled earlier did not leave your mind. You typed “Are you okay?” into your phone. I don’t want to bother him. The cursor whipped the message off the screen.

After a restless night your phone woke you up at 6:30 am the next morning. You had rolled from one side to the other but the unfamiliar bed had made it hard to sleep. Now It was time to meet some old business men. The shower helped to wake you up properly and the breakfast buffet in the hotel’s dining room looked better than expected. You filled your plate with everything that appealed to you in that moment and sat down at an empty table for two. None of the other conference goers were to be seen, so you could enjoy your meal. Your phone lay screen down on the table. How is Junhee doing? You picked it up and looked at the messaging app. Would it be good to text him?

“I hope I didn’t offend you yesterday. I’m sorry, if I did.”

It wasn’t the best thing one could say but needed to say it. You could not stand the thought of Junhee being hurt.

“I hope you are okay.”

Of course he did not reply right away. It was still early morning and he was probably sleeping. The next time you had a chance to look at your phone was during the “coffee and networking” break at 9:30 am.

“You didn’t. I’m okay. Let’s meet today. I have time around noon.”

It was not exactly the right thing to do but you excused yourself after the last talk of the morning session and left. The dinner would be more important, it would be okay if you missed the lunch buffet.

Junhee looked fantastic. He wore a brown leather jacket and his dark hair looked freshly cut. You were not sure which version of him looked more attractive, the one with the fake lashes or the one with the leather jacket.

The restaurant was empty. It was a bit too early for most people to eat. You basically had the place to yourselves. You chewed on your lip.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday.”

It was literally the last thing you expected to hear. His shoulders were slumped. It made him look smaller than he actually was.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable!”

Maybe it came out a bit too fast because Junhee did not look convinced. You wanted to say how much you liked him but how would that look? He may take that as just a thing you said to get out of this situation or worse. What if he thought you only said you liked him, now that you had seen him cross dressing. Was it okay that you had liked it so much?

“Really, it’s all good. It is all good between us right?”

Your tone got more uncertain towards the end. You did not have that much of a relationship with him yet, but you could not stand the thought of him avoiding you.

“You don’t find that weird?” He licked his lips. “That I like to wear women’s clothes?”

His shoulders were tense. What you were about to say next would determine how this thing would go.

“No. You are an amazing person no matter what you decide to wear.”

A blush crept onto his face.

A waitress appeared. You had completely forgotten that this was a restaurant. It had felt like it was only you and him.

When the waitress left with your order, Junhee leaned towards you.

“Can I ask you something?”

Something in his tone made you perk up. Usually this question preceded a not so usual question.

“Only if I can ask you something too.”

He nodded.

“Do you… hm .. is it possible that you.. like me?”

Your mind went blank. He looked at you from the other side of the table. The little beauty mark on his cheek was something that was easy to look at. Did he mean like as in like like? Your next answer could be game changing, for better or for worse.

“Yes, I like you a lot.”

Now you could just cross your fingers and hope that being honest was the right course of action. You did not want to look at him in fear that he would reject you.

The waitress was back with your drinks and it gave both of you a bit of time. Junhee’s whole face was red and it was cute.

“What question did you wanted to ask me?”

So he was just not going to address this? Okay. Okay. You felt your face burn but also did not have the courage to ask him how he felt about you.

“Did your ex know about you cross dressing? Does anyone know?”

It clearly was not the question he had expected, you could tell by the pause that followed. He looked at his drink.

“My ex knew but she didn’t like it much. She didn’t give me a hard time because either. It just wasn’t something we talked about much. My sisters know of course. My parents were a bit worried in the beginning, they are a little old fashioned.”

You nodded. Junhee had broken up with his then girlfriend a few months ago, as far as you had heard. You were not sure why you had asked that question.

“Do you want to go to the festival tonight with me? Like a girls night out?”

It kind of slipped your lips and you prayed he would not take it the wrong way. His brows shot up and looked down at his drink.

“Yes, I would love that.”

A breath you did not know you were holding released.

Your food came and the conversation shifted. You talk about the conference that you had not seen much of yet. There still hung this question between you. You had said you liked him but he had not said anything to address your confession.

He decided to accompany you back to the hotel and you secretly loved that. You walk side by side. The last few days had been a bit cold, but today the sun gave its best to make it seem like it was still summer. Your hands brushed and Junhee caught your hand. He slid his fingers between yours and just like that you held hands. You could not stop a big, stupid smile from break on your face. The streets were not familiar but Junhee seemed to know where you were going.

“This is not your home town, is it?”

“No but my sister lives here. I come to visit often.”

It felt nice to walk with him like this. Your steps had synchronized without you thinking about it. The hotel was not far now, you began to recognize the houses.

“You probably look very good in a dress.”

You could not look at him and your face burnt. Hopefully he did not take it the wrong way.

“You like it?”

The tone was neutral and you could not tell if he approved or not.

“Yes but you look good either way.”

Junhee stopped and you looked at him. A moment later you found yourself in a tight hug, pressed against Junhee’s upper body. You could feel his breath on your neck and tried to protect what little dignity you had left by not melting into his arms. It failed.

“Thank you.”

The words tickled your skin and Junhee pressed a kiss to your cheek as he pulled back. Your brain must have short circuited being in your crushes arms and your face being so close to his. You kissed him. It was more a short peck, really. You did not have time to apologize for your forwardness. Junhee was a good kisser. The way his lips moved against yours made your heart flutter. It ended too soon.

“I have to go.”

Your tone said ‘and I don’t want to’. Junhee nodded but his hands still held you close. How nice would it be to just stay like this?

Technically there would be a dinner with the conference people that evening but the temptation to just skip it altogether was very big. Spending more time with your maybe, soon boyfriend was more appealing than spending the evening listening to the old men. They would only repeat the same stories they told at the afternoon networking session and the morning session. You texted Junhee but he insisted you stayed at least for a bit. His argument of ‘he would take some time to get ready anyways’ seemed like a plot to make you work. Reluctantly you joined one of the tables. You knew some of the men on this table. They were that type that would leave and find a seat at another table soon. Exactly what you wanted. They just had to see you were there, so no one could complain. You doubted that any of them really cared but there was a chance your supervisor would hear about you not being at the dinner through the grapevine.

The dinner was a buffet and you were first in line for food. You did not even remember afterwards what you had, because Junhee texted you with two outfits and asked which one you liked more. One was a grey skirt with a black shirt and a white scarf, the other outfits was a dress. Both would look fantastic, you were sure of that but there just was something about the first outfit that made you send ‘I love the first one’.

After an hour a window of opportunity opened and you left for your room. You changed into something more casual and left the hotel. Junhee would be waiting at the river. A thought struck you. Did he use another name when he was cross dressing?

You arrived at the river and turned right like the evening before. Junhee sat on the same bench, waiting.

“Good evening.”

It was a bit stiff but Junhee smiled at your greeting anyways. You hugged and when he pulled back you used the chance to ask about his name.

“Junhee is also a woman’s name. So just continue to call me that.”

You strolled through the narrow streets arm in arm with Junhee. Even before today you had been comfortable talking to him but now all inhibitions had disappeared. You two giggled and smiled the whole way to the other side of town. Some older people gave you stern looks but it did not phase you. Junhee was in an extraordinarily good mood. You suspected that his secret had weighed heavier on him than he had let on.

Junhee suggested going to his favorite restaurant in town and you agreed.

The place was away from the festival but not too far away. The waiter showed you to a table in a corner.

“At day time you can see the garden, from here it’s really beautiful!”

‘Really beautiful’ was also the person opposite you. The long wig hid Junhee’s sharp jawline and made his face a bit softer. The dark blouse hid his muscular arms and the fake lashes made his eyes shine.

You felt awkward not eating anything so you ordered something small to eat along with the drinks. Junhee devoured his food and when he caught you staring, an embarrassed smile appeared on his face.

“I didn’t have dinner yet.”

The light blush on his face was very cute and you found yourself smiling like an idiot.

Junhee finished the food and got ready for a toast. You raised your glass too and Junhee said: “To us!”

“To us!”

It was not your first glass so it seemed a bit silly but you smiled brightly anyways. The restaurant was full and the noise made it harder to hear. You moved your chair next to Junhee. In your head that had seemed very casual but in reality it was intimate. You were sitting in a corner now with the wall on one side and gorgeous Junhee on the other. The fake lashes really were the worst. Your heart fluttered and you looked away, face bruning.

Junhee took your hand and interlaced your fingers. The thin rings he wore looked good on him.

“Junhee?” You chewed on your lip. It seemed stupid to ask but you really did not want to there to be any misunderstandings.

“Hmm?”

“Is this a date?”

You met his eyes and he smiled, but it was paired with a nervous laugh.

“Would that be bad?”

Junhee furrowed his brows. You panicked thinking he may take that as you not wanting it to be a date.

“Oh. No! no. I just.. wasn’t sure... “

Say something.

“You know.. We kissed and I thought..”

You stopped at the look on Junhee‘s face. You were so close, it would have been easy to lean in a bit more and press your lips against his lips. His hand tightened and his fingers pressed into the back of your hand.

“It is a date.”

The lipstick had the perfect color, You almost could not tell that Junhee was wearing lipstick. Now, so up close you could see the little imperfections in the outline of his lips. You remembered how they felt on your lip and swallowed, your throat suddenly dry.

“Not here.”

The words broke the trance you had been in and you leaned back. He was right, the small town people may not be very happy with two women kissing, and even less so if they happened to notice that Junhee did not exactly fit their definition of 'woman’.

You held Junhee’s hand until your drinks were empty. It was pretty late and you still had to attend the conference tomorrow. Even Though you wanted to spend more time with Junhee, you had to go. The waiter came and Junhee lifted his handbag to look for his purse.

“I’m buying. It’s okay.”

Junhee let the small black handbag sink and smiled.

Arm in arm you walked back to the hotel. The night air cleared your head a bit but the giddy happiness remained.

Thanks for reading :)) see you in the next part.

A/n: this one was kinda tricky. Korean doesn't really have pronouns and especially no 'he' or 'she'. That's the main reason it doesn't get discussed in this fic. In gendered languages like english however it matters how you address people. Please respect people's pronouns.

#wkcnet #noonasinnetwork #Junhee x reader #Junhee fluff #A.C.E fluff #a.c.e x reader #kpop x reader #a.c.e fanfic #A.C.E fics #kpop fanfic #non idol au #star writing #queue for the lemonade stand

[hotpinkhoshi]

the pact (2)

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: sexual content, cursing, alcohol, cliche fwb to lovers, fuckboy!jb

word count: 7.4k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

a/n: first of all, thank you all so so so much for the love for the first part! i was so nervous posting and it completely blew my mind to get such a good response. this part is a bit longer and the smut is a bit more ... smutty lolol so just be aware of that. again please let me know your thoughts/feels it absolutely makes my day :) enjoy! 

(part one here)

The rest of the weekend went quickly, considering you ended up sleeping until nearly twelve o’clock Saturday afternoon. 

You honestly thought the night before had been a dream, until you’d tripped on the box of condoms laying on the floor on your way to the bathroom to pee. Vaguely, you remembered Jinyoung tossing them there just before…

Groaning, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Surely, you’d made a mistake. A big one—risking one of your longest friendships just for one night of blissful ignorance. This was not something you would normally do.  

While you weren’t nearly as calculated and cautious as Jinyoung, you usually knew better than to make hasty decisions, especially ones that could cost you your relationship with your loved ones. 

Filled with guilt and regret low in your stomach, you trudged back into your bedroom to check your phone. There were more than a few drunken snaps from the boys that had gone out last night, including one of Jackson drinking some concoction from a wine glass that made you shudder.

No texts, though. Honestly, you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. You’d half expected Jinyoung to text you as soon as he got home, telling you he’d made a terrible mistake and that he’d rather not talk to you ever again.

However, it felt strange that he hadn’t messaged you at all, for a reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on. This had been what you’d wanted, right? Just two friends helping each other out, no extra strings involved. And Jinyoung had never been the type to text more than necessary.

This thought relieved some of your worries, enough that you could put your phone down and venture out to get some food in your stomach. You weren’t hungover, necessarily, but you felt the effects of staying up too late and to be frank, you were sore. 

If Sana had any idea what had gone on last night after she retired to bed, she kept it hidden well. She was sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through her phone and eating lunch. 

“Good morning,” you muttered, praying the tee you’d chosen had a high enough neck to keep your marks from Jinyoung hidden. The last thing you needed was for Sana to see a hickey that you most definitely did not have the last time she’d seen you.

“Do you mean good afternoon? What time did you get to bed last night, anyway?” Sana asked, spoon of soup halfway to her lips. 

You turned to the cupboard and pretended to mull over which mug you wanted to use for coffee. “Um, maybe... two? Not more than an hour after you went to bed...” 

“Hm,” she replied, and you held your breath waiting to see if she would say anything else to indicate she knew something had happened. “Oh my god, look at this video of a corgi my cousin tagged me in.”

Your entire body relaxed as you turned back to your roommate to watch the video on her phone. Maybe you had gotten away with it after all. 

~~~

The rest of the weekend, you found yourself back at work even though you weren’t scheduled to be there. There was always work to do, and it kept your mind busy to focus on something besides your reckless decisions. 

By Sunday evening, you’d outlined an entire business plan to get your sales back up before the summer hit, reorganized the entire cookbook section, and laid out next month’s employee schedule. 

Yugyeom made your life a little easier by staying until close, placing sale stickers on old paperbacks that you’d been trying to sell for months. He’d talked your ear off about Friday night, filling in all the details that you never asked for. 

“I’m not kidding, noona, this guy was two seconds from sucker punching Jackson just because he accidentally made out with his fiance. But she wasn’t wearing an engagement ring! I checked!” 

This was part of the reason you never went out with the guys when they hit the clubs. It was always fun until inevitably one of them caused utter chaos that you found yourself involved in every time, if only to try and diffuse the situation. 

You were becoming too old for the nightlife scene, you figured. 

“That’s crazy.” 

“I know!” Yugyeom placed his next sticker harshly, almost knocking over the entire pile. “But apparently, there is a God, because at that moment, a bachelor party came through the crowd and we lost them.”

You were about to mutter another ‘wow’ or ‘that’s crazy’ when the front door jingled. Just as you were about to tell the customer you closed in a few minutes, your words died in your throat. It wasn’t just any customer, it was Jinyoung. 

For a moment, you forgot that you’d just seen him naked two days ago. He was just Jinyoung, your oldest friend. 

“Jinyoung!” you exclaimed, setting down your clipboard. 

He offered you a smile, running his fingers through his hair before shoving his hands in his pockets. “Hey. Sorry, I know you guys close soon. I just wanted to see if you’d gotten a particular book in.” 

Nodding, you came out from behind the counter once he told you the title, leading him to the row of shelves where you kept the new releases. You shouted back for Yugyeom to lock the front door and clock out a while, since this wasn’t the first time you’d let Jinyoung in the store past closing time. 

“Ah, right here,” you said, pulling the book from the shelf and placing it in Jinyoung’s hands. 

It wasn’t until you made eye contact with him, his shoulder close enough to brush against yours, that you had a flashback to the other night. His head between your thighs, your fingers laced into his hair. 

You looked down abruptly, tucking your hands into the pockets of your cardigan. “Anything else I can help you find?” 

Jinyoung didn’t answer at first, just rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled slowly. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you. About Friday.” He lowered his voice, leaning close enough you could smell his cologne. 

You swallowed. “Okay.” 

“I wanted to apologize,” he said, taking you by surprise. 

“For what?”

Jinyoung sighed, chewing his lip with his teeth for a moment. “I was worried that I took advantage of you. You were drinking, you were upset, and maybe you didn’t exactly have a clear head.” 

Somehow, his response was a relief. You’d been expecting him to have regrets for completely different reasons than just his conscience. 

“I wasn’t drunk,” you told him, shaking your head. “I was basically sober. And yeah, I was upset, but... I don’t regret it. I think I needed it.” 

Jinyoung looked relieved as well. His shoulders visibly relaxed and he raised his brows. “Me too, actually. It’s hard to explain, but--”  

“I get it,” you said, because you were sure you did, without him saying the words. “It reminded you Yeri isn’t the only girl in the world that could want you?” 

Jinyoung nodded. “Same for you?” 

“Yeah. Except I know Jaebeom doesn’t want me, not the way I want him to. I just needed to see that someone else could. Plus, it was a nice distraction, right?” You smiled, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “A really nice distraction.” 

Again, you were reminded of the way it felt to have his skin against yours and the weight of his body on you. The way his teeth grazed your neck. It was hard to forget, considering you’d had to layer up concealer over the purple marks that just barely peeked over the collar of your shirt. 

There was an air of awkwardness between the two of you, but that was to be expected, you figured. It didn’t make you regret that night or want to do it again any less. 

“Well, what are friends for, right?” you joked, and Jinyoung let out a lighthearted laugh. Your stomach flipped ever so slightly that you could make him laugh like that, for some reason. You’d never cared before. 

“Right,” he agreed. “Also, finding incredible books.” He held up the one in his hand, which served as a reminder that Yugyeom was still in the store somewhere, and he had a way of popping up places you didn’t expect him to be.

“Here, let me get you checked out and you can head home.” 

You led Jinyoung back to the register, already feeling so much better about the whole situation. You hadn’t lost him forever, which was truly what you’d been worried about. 

But you realized that was a silly notion. You’d both wanted it, and frankly, you’d both needed it. 

After ringing up Jinyoung’s book, you walked him out of the store to bid him goodbye, letting him know to text you to let you know how the book was. Just like you normally would. 

~~~

It wasn’t until Wednesday night that you found yourself contemplating texting Jinyoung. To be specific, texting Jinyoung for sex. It still sounded absolutely ridiculous in your head, but it was the truth. 

You’d spoken a few times, no more than usual, mostly about his new read and other random things that came up. It appeared that your friendship would continue as normal. 

Then Jaebeom had texted you. In the middle of the week, during your lunchtime, a simple ‘hey :)’ that had you gawking at your phone and almost choking on your chicken salad. 

Since you weren’t an idiot and you were committed to truly moving on from your infatuation, you ignored it. But you couldn’t help thinking about it for the rest of the day, even after you arrived home. 

You needed a distraction, and you needed it bad. 

you: hey you: are you home from work?

Jinyoung: Yeah, why?

you: ...can I come over?

Jinyoung: Of course.

Even though he texted like a robot, you knew he would have said no if he really didn’t want you coming over. You prayed he understood the implications of your visit, that you weren’t just coming over to discuss the weather. 

Jinyoung lived close enough that you were at his apartment within half an hour, a modest but definite upgrade from your tiny two bedroom. 

Somehow, you pushed your nerves down by the time Jinyoung answered the door, dressed in a simple black long sleeved tee and his work khakis. You now appreciated him in this outfit in a way you wouldn’t have a week ago. 

“Hey,” he said, inviting you inside. “I was just finishing up a quick dinner. Are you hungry?”

“Mm,” you replied, inhaling the scent of frying veggies and garlic. “Actually, yeah. What did you make?” 

“Just some stir fry and ramen, nothing special,” he told you, leading you into the kitchen with a hand at the small of your back. It sent tingles up your spine, and something told you it was intentional on his part. 

Once he sat you down at the kitchen island on one of the stools there, you watched as he made the finishing touches to the pan he had warming on the stove. 

You hadn’t been to his place in a while, but it looked like nothing had changed. It was clean, even the kitchen, despite the fact that he’d been making dinner. When you made dinner, it looked like a tornado hit the kitchen. 

There weren’t many personal touches in his space, but enough for you to recognize it as Jinyoung’s. A photo of himself and his parents on the fridge, an old record player set up in the corner, and bookshelf stuffed full with novels in the living room. The open floor plan made his apartment appear much bigger than it was, in reality, but you preferred it over your cluttered space. 

“Here, try this,” Jinyoung said, holding a wooden spoon in front of your lips. You obeyed, letting him feed you the broth. 

It was delicious. You’d never eaten anything he’d prepared as far as you could remember, but you were thoroughly impressed so far. 

“Mm, I had no idea you were such a great cook.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head and walking back over to finish up the food. “I’m not. I just know how to follow a recipe, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, so do I, but somehow it always ends up terrible.” 

“That’s because you’re actually awful at following a recipe,” he said as he turned back to you, a bowl of ramen in one hand and a plate of stir fry in the other. 

You gasped, offended. “I am not!” 

Jinyoung raised a brow. “Remember that cooking class we had to take in high school? You messed up banana bread. There are like, four ingredients in banana bread.” 

“Well, the recipe was wrong.” You pressed your lips together defiantly. “It didn’t taste that bad, anyway.” 

Jinyoung set your meal down in front of you, then leaned his elbows on the counter and stared at you. “Are you sure about that?”

You pouted. You vaguely remembered your teacher immediately coughing and grabbing for a napkin to spit your banana bread out into. Jinyoung, at the time, hadn’t even laughed at you even while everyone else did. He just came over to your station while everyone else was cleaning up, going over the recipe with you to find where you’d gone wrong. 

“Well, I’ve gotten better since then. Maybe.” 

Jinyoung chuckled, turning away from you once more to grab his own plates. “I believe you, though you might have to prove it to me sometime.” 

“I will,” you told him firmly. “But it definitely won’t smell or taste as good as this.” 

And it did taste good, once you took your first bite. Better than good. It’d been a long time since you’d had a warm, home cooked meal. You’d been lazy these days, heating up instant meals or ordering takeout. This was a welcome change. 

While the two of you ate, you mostly talked about your days at work. Nothing in particular, but the conversation flowed the way it did between two friends that had known each other as long as you’d known Jinyoung. Even the silence while you ate was comfortable. 

After you both finished with your meal, you stood and insisted on gathering up the dishes. If you couldn’t cook him a decent meal to return the favor, you’d at least help clean up. 

You stacked the plates, dumping the bits of food left over into the trash and rinsing off the plates. When you turned back around from the dishwasher, you found Jinyoung much closer to you than he had been a minute ago. 

“You really don’t have to do that,” he told you, crowding you against the sink. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of you, boxing you in. “But thank you.” 

You shivered, looking up at him and nodding meekly. “You’re welcome.” Your voice came out much quieter than intended. 

“Now,” he said, moving even closer until you felt his hips pressing into yours. “How about dessert?” 

It would have sounded cheesy coming from anyone else, but from him, it sent a wave of heat through your body. After all, this was what you came for. 

When Jinyoung finally leaned in to press his lips into yours, you relaxed, sliding your hands up his torso until they rested on his chest. Though neither of you had any alcohol in your system, you felt more at ease than you had the other night. 

You knew he wanted you, and you both knew your intentions. There was no reason to worry. As a bonus, you could freely move about his apartment without trying to be quiet. 

Jinyoung kissed you as if he’d been thinking of this all day, like he’d been waiting to feel your lips against his and your tongue dipping into the wetness of his mouth. It’d been so long since anyone kissed you the way Jinyoung did. 

Though you’d been intoxicated beyond coherence, you had committed your one kiss with Jaebeom to memory at this point. He’d kissed you lazily—like he knew you weren’t going anywhere, like it could have been anyone and it wouldn’t have made a difference. 

Jinyoung was receptive when he kissed, as if gauging your reactions to each of his movements and using the knowledge to make your knees weak. Each lick, kiss, and bite was perfectly calculated to prepare you for the pleasure he would bring you later. 

For a while, you simply just kissed. His hands traveled from the counter to your hips, sliding them upwards until they were on your skin underneath of your simple white shirt. This could have been enough for you, honestly. The way he melted his lips into yours was warming your entire body, just aching to be closer to him in whatever way you could. 

When you pulled away, it was only to drag Jinyoung’s sweater up off of his torso and drop it to the floor. It still surprised you to see how fit he was, even more so in much better lighting this time—despite having just eaten a full meal. How had he been hiding this from you for so long? 

You wanted to give his physique the proper attention it deserved, so you ran your fingertips down his solid chest, until they grazed over the ridges of his abs. You licked your lips, imagining what it would be like to run your tongue over the skin there. 

He had just the lightest happy trail leading you right to the button on his khakis. Your eyes traveled back up his body until you locked eyes with him, where you found him staring at you hungrily. 

“Jinyoung… can I…?” You started, popping open the button with your index finger. 

His eyes widened ever so slightly once he realized what you meant. “Yes. God, yes.” 

So you dropped to your knees right on the kitchen floor, tipping your chin up to maintain eye contact. “I kept thinking about this, you know.” You willed yourself not to blush and betray your nerves. 

“Yeah?” he asked, running his teeth over his bottom lip. “What else have you thought about?”

You slid the zipper of his khakis down, revealing the plain black boxer briefs underneath. The fabric strained, fighting a losing battle with the bulge it was trying to contain. “The way you fit inside me—god, it felt perfect, Jinyoung.” 

You teased the waistband with your fingers, your eyes traveling up his body once more until you could look up at him, blinking innocently. “I kept wondering how you’d taste. If you’d feel just as perfect like this.” 

For the most part, Jinyoung kept his composure, but you knew him well enough to see beyond the steeled expression on his face. How his jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the countertop in front of him. The barely detectable hitch in his breath.

“Go ahead and find out.” 

You sat back on your heels, your hand dipping inside his waistband to grip his erection. You were grateful for the lighting of the kitchen, allowing you to see up close just how flawless he was, from head to toe. 

Jinyoung inhaled sharply as you freed his cock from inside of his khakis, your fingers wrapping around the middle of his shaft. You realized just how much you’d missed out on the other night.

Your eyes stayed on him as you leaned forward, sticking your tongue out flat as you ran it up the underside of the shaft. Though he didn’t make a noise, you caught the way his eyelashes fluttered and his gaze darkened. 

You placed a wet kiss at the tip of his cock before you began to take him into your mouth. Slowly. You wanted him to feel every inch of your mouth as it surrounded him, desperate to break his steady demeanor. 

One of his hands released its grip from the countertop, coming to the side of your face to brush your hair away, his thumb stroking your cheek. “So,” he said, “how does it feel, angel? Good?”

You batted your eyelashes up at him, your mouth still wrapped around his shaft. You weren’t quite ready to pull away, so you just nodded your head, careful not to let any bit of his cock slip out. 

The way Jinyoung smirked back down at you sent warmth straight between your thighs, causing you to squeeze your knees together from where you sat on the cold kitchen floor. 

Giving head had never been your favorite. You didn’t hate it, but something about it made you feel awkward and sometimes uncomfortable. It caused you a pinch of anxiety, worrying that you’d do something wrong or embarrassing like choke or accidentally bite down. 

However, you were loving this. You really had fantasized about it all week, though you weren’t sure why, considering you never had before. Something about having this power over Jinyoung, even as he stared down at you with such a domineering gaze, turned you on beyond words. You were hungry for it for the first time. 

Jinyoung slipped his fingers through your hair, gripping onto the strands to gently guide your mouth off of him, then pushed with the lightest pressure so you’d take him in again. You let your eyes fall closed, your hands traveling up his thighs to give yourself something to hold onto. 

You let him set the pace with his hand at the back of your head. He was gentle with you, but you knew he was holding back. He’d looked the same the other night. His brow twitched, and his lips pressed firmly together. 

“You’re doing so well,” he told you, his other hand coming to join the other at the back of your head, stroking your hair softly. 

Encouraged by his praise, you attempted to take just one extra inch inside your mouth on your next downstroke. You squeezed your eyes shut as the head hit the back of your throat, making you cough around his cock but you didn’t give up. 

“Oh, fuck,” Jinyoung whispered, just as he slipped past the resistance of your gag reflex and you dug your nails into the fabric of his pants.

When you opened your eyes to look up at him, you were pleased to see you had definitely had an effect on him. His head was thrown back, his face screwed up in pleasure. 

You continued. Working hard to train your throat to take more and more of him inside, even though your jaw ached and your throat was becoming sore. It was worth it for the quiet moans and groans you were pulling out of Jinyoung. 

“Oh, oh shit—“ Jinyoung said suddenly after a few more minutes, his hands tugging harshly on your hair to pull your mouth off of him. You winced at the sudden sharp pain at your scalp. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I just. You need to stop.”

You’d gotten lost in the act, only focused on one thing, you hadn’t realized just how hard he’d become. As curious as you were to see what it would feel like, what he’d look like coming into your mouth, you needed him inside of you.

Standing from the kitchen floor, you wiped at your mouth and chin with your sleeve. You didn’t realize how messy you’d gotten.

Jinyoung didn’t waste much time. Your shirt was off in seconds, joining his sweater somewhere on the floor. His eyes caught sight of your marks, almost entirely faded but still visible. 

He ran the tip of his index finger down the side of your neck and along your collarbone, making you shiver. “Did anyone see these?” he asked, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. 

You shook your head. “No, I kept them covered. I had to use makeup the first couple of days, though.” 

You’d been paranoid all week, making sure the collar of your shirts covered all of the hickies Jinyoung had left on your skin. It wouldn’t have been a huge deal if you didn’t live with Sana—if she had seen, she would have had  too many questions and you were an awful liar. You would have broken in moments and told her everything. 

Jinyoung hummed, slipping his fingers back to the nape of your neck. “I guess this time I’ll have to mark you where no one can see them but me.” 

He pulled you in for a kiss, his other hand sliding down to your lower back so he could bring your bodies flush together. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his hardness pressed between you. 

Jinyoung’s hand slid around to the front of you, undoing your jeans with one hand while the other stayed buried in your hair. You helped him out, pushing your jeans down your hips and kicking them off once they’d gotten down to your shins. 

He parted from your lips after a moment and took his hands off of you, stepping back to take in your half naked frame. Your cheeks felt hot under his stare. He looked at you with such a lustful, predatory gaze that was totally new to you. Your skin tingled, just wanting to feel his touch once more. 

“You wanna know what I thought about these last few days?” He asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip, pink and slightly swollen from your kisses. 

All you could do was nod, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“All the sounds I could get you to make. I bet you sound incredible when you just let go, and especially when you come.” Jinyoung took one step towards you, trailing a fingertip down the front of your throat, down between the valley of your breasts. “Let’s see how loud you can be, hm?” 

You knew, deep in your soul, that Jinyoung could easily get you screaming and writhing underneath of him. It was as if the other night had just been a fraction of the pleasure he could give you. After all, you’d been forced to stay quiet and you’d been so nervous. But he had an air about him, a confidence that suggested he knew what he was doing, and exactly how to unravel you. 

When Jinyoung stepped forward again, this time he was grabbing you around the backs of your thighs, lifting you up to wrap your legs around him. He carried you the short distance over to the couch, setting you down so you perched on the back edge. 

“Remember what I promised?” 

How could you forget? The image he’d painted into your mind while he was thrusting inside of you, of your body bent over the back of his couch, letting the entire world hear just how good he could make you feel. It had replayed in your mind countless times since then.

“Yes,” you answered, hands gripping onto the fabric of the couch on either side of you. 

“Spread your legs,” he told you, then kneeled down in front of you. You obeyed. You could feel his eyes raking over you once more, which never affected you any less. Had he ever looked at you like this before? It was taking the breath right from your chest. “Take that off.” 

As he nodded to your top half, you reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra before letting it fall away. You would have done whatever he asked right now, no question. All you could see in your haze of desire was Jinyoung. You shivered and noticed his window was open, letting a light breeze drift across your half naked frame. 

God, he really did want all of his neighbors to hear you. 

Just as he did last time, he started slow. He propped one of your legs up on his shoulder, turning his head to place gentle kisses on your inner thighs. His hands kept your legs spread to his liking, giving him ample room where he knelt. 

If anything, he was teasing you more this time around. Maybe because it was just you and him, no time constraints, no reason to keep your pleasure to yourselves. You were screwed, if your first experience with him was just a warm up. 

You tipped your head back and closed your eyes, basking in the gentle ministrations of his mouth. He hadn’t even gotten to your heat yet, just nuzzling your thighs and leaving wet kisses on your skin. Every now and then, he stopped to suck at your skin, undoubtedly leaving a hickey in his wake. 

When you felt his teeth sink into your thigh, you gasped, lowering your chin to look down at him. He raised a brow to check that you were okay, you nodded eagerly. Though most probably wouldn’t expect it from you, you absolutely loved when men were a bit more rough with you. Nothing too crazy, but you craved the delicate balance between pain and pleasure. 

Jinyoung finally led his kisses upwards, closer and closer to your core. When his lips met the edge of your panties, he pulled back to remove them, sliding the lace down your legs until they dropped off your ankle. 

His burning gaze scanned over you once more, full of hunger, before he finally leaned in and got to work. The moment his tongue touched your clit, your mouth fell open and your nails dug into the upholstery you were keeping balance on. 

Even just the slightest kitten licks he started with had your hips twitching up towards his face, causing his hands to come around your waist, holding you in place. You had thought of him all week, just like this, more times than you would admit to him or yourself. He’d worked magic with his tongue, and you’d been desperate to feel it again. 

At a perfectly angled flick of his tongue, you moaned out his name instinctively, which just encouraged him even more. He was pulling out all the stops, you figured, determined to have you noisy as could be. 

“Fuck, right there,” you moaned, your hand reaching for the back of his head. 

Jinyoung scooted closer, grabbing both of your thighs to hook them over his shoulders, while his tongue drifted down to your center to taste you there. He hummed as soon as your wetness hit his tongue, the vibrations going straight to your clit. He really wanted to drive you crazy. 

He pulled back just enough to circle his index and middle fingers around your entrance, coating them with your arousal before they pushed inside. You whimpered, your walls clamping on his digits. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he told you, his voice deep and laced with want.

Your eyes opened and you lifted your head, tilting your face down to watch him. “So—fuck, so good,” you started, biting hard onto your lower lip as you watched him twist his fingers inside of you. “I thought about this so many times,” you admitted. 

“Yeah?” he asked, leaning in to suck at your clit for a long moment just because he could. Your hips lifted as he pulled away, whining when the sensation of his mouth left you. “Did you touch yourself?”

Your throat went dry as you stared down at him, cheeks going red as you thought back to the other night in bed. You’d tossed and turned, debating with yourself. It seemed to cross a line, somehow, to touch yourself while thinking of him. But you’d lost the battle, eventually shoving your hands into your sweatpants and rubbing yourself to your peak. 

“Yes,” you answered, swallowing. “I had to. I couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth on me.” 

Jinyoung had the nerve to smirk, his fingers still working in and out of you. “Dirty girl,” he teased, his voice condescending in a way that sent a tingle straight to your core. “Did you come?” 

You could only nod, unable to form words with the way he was fucking his fingers into you. He looked awfully pleased with your answer, and you couldn’t believe how hot it was. He’d always been cocky, but you had no idea it would turn you on so much. 

Just as you expected him to continue eating you out, he stood from between your legs, his fingers sliding out of you. He silenced your protesting with his lips on yours, kissing you hard enough to take your breath away. 

As he pulled away, he grabbed your hips and forced you to stand. “You want to see what I’ve been thinking about all week?” He turned you around, sliding his arms tenderly around your waist and placing a kiss to your shoulder. “Bend over, angel. And don’t move.” 

His touch left you then as he walked away. You stood there, bent over the couch with your arms folded in front of you for what felt like an hour but in reality, was probably less than a minute. You’d never felt so exposed, quite literally, even though you’d made sure that his curtains were closed and you weren’t giving any of his neighbors a free show.

When Jinyoung returned, you heard the clinking of his pants and underwear being shoved to the floor, then the foil of the condom wrapper. You waited, obedient as ever, while Jinyoung rolled the condom onto himself. It felt like your heart was about to pound right out of your chest in anticipation.

“Ready?” he asked, sliding his hand down from your shoulder blades to your lower back. 

“Mm,” you responded, arching your back. 

As he sank into you, you both let out sighs of pleasure. You felt like you’d memorized how he had felt inside of you before, but this was entirely new. The way his hips aligned with yours was heavenly, his cock angling inside of you just right. 

“Oh. Oh my God,” you moaned, your hands grasping onto the couch. “Don’t move for a sec, okay?” 

He listened, caressing your back with his hands and rubbing circles into your skin. “You okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah, you’re just—big,” you said, blushing and glancing back at him.

He managed not to smirk at you this time, but you knew he wanted to. Every guy liked to hear his dick was big, you were almost positive of that. As your walls stretched to accommodate him, you nodded at him, signaling for him to continue. 

Jinyoung set a slow but deep pace inside of you and it had you moaning every time he bottomed out. He was muttering words of praise, mostly inaudible, but you could barely focus on anything besides the way he was pushing into your g-spot. 

You made up for his silence. Moaning his name, louder and louder as he picked up his pace. Your head dipped forward to rest against your arm, one hand covering your mouth to silence a particularly loud cry. 

Before you even realized what was happening, Jinyoung tore your hand away from your mouth. “I don’t think so,” he told you. He reached around you, relentless with his thrusts, and grabbed both of your hands. He pulled both of your arms behind you until he had your wrists linked behind your back, clasped underneath of his palm.

“Fuck, Jinyoung, I can’t—“ you whined, pressing your forehead into the cushion. 

“You can,” he responded. “I told you, I want you loud. Tell me what you need.”

“You’re—” you started, letting out a strangled moan, “so good. Fuck me harder, please. Please.” 

His hips snapped against you in a forceful thrust, pushing you forward into the couch, but you loved it. The noises he had you making were louder and dirtier than anything that had ever come out of your mouth with previous partners. You were still getting used to the fact that Jinyoung could get you to this place, so needy and desperate.

Jinyoung’s pace inside of you got faster, and you drowned out the sounds of his skin hitting yours with your moans, the volume reaching new heights when he reached around with his free hand to rub your clit. 

“Are you close?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss your shoulder. “You’re so tight. Jesus.” 

You nodded. “I-I’m so close, Jinyoung. Please, please, don’t stop.” 

For once, Jinyoung was the obedient one, driving into you at a consistently breathtaking pace. All you could think about was the way he felt inside of you and his two fingers drawing patterns on your clit. 

“Come on, baby,” he whispered near your ear, “Be a good girl for me.” 

That was all it took. Somewhere, in the back of your head, you knew you were too loud. It was the middle of the evening, there was no way there wouldn’t be a noise complaint called into his landlord. But you couldn’t help it. 

The heat in your belly spread to flames, engulfing your entire body as you came, hard, around him. He practically had you sobbing, your hands pinned behind your back giving you absolutely nothing to hold onto. You were completely at his mercy. 

Jinyoung at least let you rest for a moment, slowing his movements inside of you. He dropped your hands and you slumped over the couch, your thighs still twitching with the aftershocks. 

“Come here,” he said, gently pulling you up to a full standing position and turning you around, his cock slipping out of you. Just that was enough to make you whimper, too oversensitive from your orgasm. 

He lifted you up again, carrying you around to the other side of the couch. Laying you down, he climbed on top of you. You were finally coherent enough to wrap your arms around him, pulling him down for a kiss. 

As great as your previous position had been, you had missed seeing his face, which was unexpected but you decided to push that feeling down. 

When he pulled away, you locked eyes with him and nodded, silently signaling for him to continue. You wanted to make him feel good, wanted him to reach euphoria just as you had, though it’d be a much quieter experience. 

You exhaled when he slipped back inside of you, your walls still wet and eager for him, if not more so now. He kept eye contact with you as if he knew that’s what you had been missing before. His gaze was so intense it had you pulsing between your legs all over again. 

This time, his pace wasn’t as quick or forceful, but he was still reaching spots inside of you that made you shiver. One hand came up to the side of your face, stroking his thumb over your cheek gently, contrasting with the way he was pushing inside of you. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your fingers into the skin of his shoulder blades. He groaned and leaned his forehead against yours, thrusting into you deep. 

“Right there,” you told him, resisting every urge to squeeze your eyes shut. You wouldn’t come again, you were too worn out, but you knew he was capable of taking you there, if he had a little less mercy.

Jinyoung’s thrusts got faster, a bit less controlled, hinting that he wouldn’t last much longer. “Fuck, Y/N,” he panted. He dropped his head down, kissing down your jaw to your throat. “Gonna come soon.”

“Please,” you breathed, mustering the strength to roll your hips up to meet his next thrust. “I want it, Jinyoung, please.”

With a few more thrusts, he suddenly slowed to a stop, his entire body stiffening as he came. His teeth scraped against your skin, hard enough to nearly break skin. The sound he made was one you wanted to remember forever.

Jinyoung stilled inside of you after a moment, pressing his lips into your skin one final time before he pulled away. “Are you okay?” he asked, not because he was worried but just because he cared. 

“Mhm,” you answered. “Legs are jelly still, though.” 

He chuckled lowly and sat up, sliding out of you. “Should I apologize or say you’re welcome?” 

You slapped playfully at his chest and sat up as well. “Loser. Get me a towel, please?” 

~~~

Once you’d gotten cleaned up and your clothes back on, you and Jinyoung sat on the couch, Netflix playing some true crime documentary you’d both seen the first episode of before and never continued. Neither of you were one to binge TV. Books, however, were a different story. 

The way you were curled up on the couch could have appeared rather romantic, but it was mostly because your legs were already sore from bending over the back of the couch. Or so you told yourself. 

You leaned into Jinyoung’s side, his arm thrown over the cushion beside you. The evening was still young, and you’d both figured there was no need for you to leave so soon. Besides, it made the whole situation feel cheap if you left within five minutes of having an orgasm. 

“Have you ever wondered how many serial killers you’ve sold books to?” Jinyoung asked, breaking the silence. 

You stared at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “No. But now I will, asshole.” He grinned, running his fingertips up and down the curve of your shoulder. “Oh, God. Probably so many.” 

“You know that guy with the big cowboy belt? The one that’s always buying the sleazy novels?”

“Oh, definitely,” you answered, turning your head into his chest and giggling. “He always puts them face down as if I don’t know what I’m ringing up.” 

“If you disappear, I’ll be sure to let the police know to add him to the suspect list.” 

You huffed. “Thanks, Jinyoung.” 

“Anytime.” He gave you a shit eating grin, squeezing your shoulder. “Hey, you going to BamBam’s birthday thing on Saturday?” 

You hummed in response. “Are you?” 

“I thought about it. Been a while since I’ve been out to a club, though. I’m afraid I’ll look like the old grumpy man in the corner.” 

The mental image had you giggling again. “I mean, you might. But yeah, I’ll be there. Need me to get you drunk to loosen you up?”

Jinyoung chuckled. “Maybe. As long as you don’t take advantage of me, try and drag me into any dark corridors...”

You feigned offense, a hand to your chest. “Would I do something like that?” 

“I don’t know,” he stared down at you, “would you?” 

You narrowed your eyes. “Never. I’m a lady.” 

Jinyoung snorted. “Pretty sure the noises you were making just a bit ago were not very ladylike.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said. “I’m a respectable young woman.” 

When Jinyoung’s hand drifted down from your shoulder to your waist, pulling you closer, you stared up at him with raised eyebrows. “Do you need a reminder?” 

You swatted his hand away, wiggling away from him. “Oh my God, you’re insatiable. I’m still sore, you freak. Give me at least a 24 hour recovery period.” 

When his hand decided to squeeze and tickle your sides, you shrieked and tried to scoot away from him but he was too quick, grasping both your hips and keeping you in place. 

“I’ll give you something, alright,” he said, grinning down at you. “You’re gonna have to work on your stamina.” 

You tried and failed to move away from him, your hands weakly slapping at his shoulders while you giggled underneath of him. “Jinyoung!”

“Hmm, now that sounds familiar.” 

“I hate you so much,” you said around your laughs, practically gasping for breath now. Jinyoung finally relented, ceasing his tickling but remaining on top of you. 

“I doubt that,” he responded, leaning down to catch your lips with his. You relaxed under him, your hands clasping his shoulders as you deepened the kiss.

When you instinctively rolled your hips up towards the growing bulge in his pants, he pulled away, a shocked look on his face. “I thought you needed 24 hours?”

You scrunched your nose at him, pinching his ear. “Shut up and take my clothes off.” 

~~~

It turned out, you didn’t quite need as much recovery time as you thought. After Jinyoung brought you over the edge twice, one time with just his fingers and another deep inside of you, you both got dressed once more. 

Reminiscent of your first night together, Jinyoung smoothed your hair back away from your face and thumbed your chin as you stood by the door. “Drive safe.” 

“I will. Thanks,” you told him again, chewing your lip. “I’ll see you Saturday?” 

“Mm. Text me if you need me before then, okay?”

You both knew what he meant. Even as you walked out of his apartment down to your car, you had a feeling you’d be begging to see him long before Saturday arrived.

#got7 #got7 fanfic #jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 fic #got7 smut #jinyoung fic #jinyoung smut #got7 scenario #got7 reaction #park jinyoung smut #jinyoung fanfic #got7 imagine #jinyoung imagine #writing

[rogue-barnes-16]

Yelena X normal reader , tiny timeline of meeting to now. How reader helped and made Yelena open up and fluff for their relationship?? 🥰😍

HER

Summary: Yelena goes over the happiest part of her life while talking with an old friend.

Pairing: Yelena Belova x fem Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Yelena Belova: @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam @thetiniestfangirl

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @1a-girl-has-no-name1 @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver @angelh1 @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam @randomparanoid @welovecaptainamericaass @gabbie-is-sad @amisutcliff

Warnings: maybe swearing and alcohol (?)

A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, I'll be writing your requests soon, just give me time plz. With the University, and the protects, and family, and now the coronavirus, my life has been a mess and the last thing I could do was write. Here goes some Yelena x reader fluff bc it's needed, enjoy <3

"I tell people my sister moved out west." I began, nursing the half empty vodka bottle with my eyes lost on the dark sky.

"You're a science teacher." Natalia's eyebrows raised in disbelief as a surprised smirk appeared on her lips. "You're husband... He renovates houses." I rested my chin on the bottle. "You're thinking about moving but you're waiting until the interest rates go down."

"That's not my story." Natalia laughed

"I don't care." I stated with an indifferent look and a shrug of my shoulders. "That's my sister's story."

"Is that what you told Y/n?"

Natalia casually pronouncing her name, as if she was supposed to know her at all, made me go completely livid.

"what? Cat got your tongue?" the redhead teased.

"How--?"

"She was going down when I was going up." Natalia chucked down what was left of alcohol in her bottle before leaning back. "I asked her if she knew you-- if you were home." I clenched my fists around the bottle's neck. "She's really sweet."

"I hate you."

"how did you meet her?"

"Másik." the bartender raised an eyebrow at me while she cleaned one of the cups. "Please?"

"Don't you think you've had enough tonight?"

I pretended to meditate it for a couple of seconds before replying "Not yet."

"How are you not drunk?" she questioned, leaving the glass, now cleaned over the top shelf and spinning to me with a new bottle of liquor ready to serve me another cup.

"I tolerate alcohol pretty well." I replied, just as I did the rest of the nights I dropped by at the pub to have a drink.

Or two.

I didn't like the pub, I didn't like the people there, and I didn't like riding my bike for half an hour to reach the place.

I liked the cute bartender that worked there Fridays Saturdays and Sundays, since she needed the money to afford her shitty apartment. And even though she hated working the weekend, she had no choice because college consumed the rest of the week, except Wednesday, but Wednesday was her day and she wasn't going to give it up for an extra check because self care was important.

Yeah, I liked her.

"If you go home after this one," she spoke leaving the bottle aside to lean on the bar counter. "the last one's on the house."

My eyes jumped from her to the glass, and back to her while I thought my words through. "come with me?"

Her eyes widened a little bit, a frown formed between her brows and a nervous chuckle left her lips. "wait what?"

"Come home with me?" I tried extra hard for my insecure side not to slip through my confident, almost cold façade. "I'm not drunk, I promise."

"I-" she stared at the clock long enough for me to catch up on her intention of leaving with me. "Uh... We close in like... Fifteen minutes."

"Is that a yes?"

"just if you wait." she teased with a half smile.

"I was a usual in the pub she worked in." I replied, leaning back on the chair whilst trying to keep it cool.

"What are you two?" Natalia questioned, now with no intention of teasing, but out of pure curiosity.

My eyes opened automatically the moment the weight on the bed shifted, and all from sudden I was wide awake, my eyes trained in Y/n's body as she dressed up.

"What are you doing?" I questioned while fighting the urge to walk to her, or even sit up.

"Getting dressed?"

"Why?"

She chuckled, buckling her belt. "I have class."

With a groan I propped myself up. "Don't go."

"Yelena." she stepped towards me in order to give me a peck on the lips to erase my pout. "You know I can't." I sighed, knowing perfectly fine that she was right. "Where's the shirt I left here the-"

"second drawer."

"Thanks babe."

"Take care, okay?" I spoke right before she exited the room, to which she responded with a nod.

"Why are you being so nosey?" my inquiry was excessively hostile; even I was able to notice it.

"Why are you being so overprotective?" Natalia's reply had a tinge of frustration on it.

"What the fuck was that?" Y/n's voice held fear and anger equally.

I could feel her eyes digging into me, even if my head was low and my eyes were closed. Even if she was pacing on the living room and I was sitting on a chair in the corner.

"I can't explain it to you." I attempted in vain to sound calm and confident.

"You dragged me out of the bar were I work and made me walk for an hour before taking me to your bike."

"you won't understand."

"you don't know that."

I looked up at her. "Believe me when I tell you--"

"does it have anything to do with all the guns you have hidden in every room?" her question, even though she practically lived with me now, took me aback. "or with the Red Room? Or with Natalia?"

I stood up immediately at the mention of the black widow, now scared of who Y/n was. "how-" had she fooled me? I thought. Had this been just another of Madame B's mind games?

"You talk in your sleep." she confessed, making my heart pound twice faster. "I know more about you than you think, Yelena. I didn't tell you because it's your choice to tell me about it."

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of the water, unable to say anything.

"I know you don't talk about your past for a reason, and I get it." Y/n, between her speech, had walked to me and her hands now were holding mine. "But if your past somehow becomes your present— our present," my heart skipped a beat at her correction. "I need you to tell me what's happening."

We gazed into each other's eyes for a long instant that, in my opinion, could have been a minute or an hour.

"I'm afraid something will happen to you if you know anything about it." I replied, looking down at our intertwined fingers. "I love you."

Her index lifted my chin and, before my eyes met hers, our lips did.

"I love you too."

"Why wouldn't I be, Natalia?" I inquired, throwing myself back against the backrest. "She knows a lot that she shouldn't. Plus, she's... the only good thing in my life."

"So how long y'all have been dating?"

"For almost two years already."

"So you love her, huh?" I looked down, feeling my cheeks reddening. "Oh my gosh you're in love." She chuckled.

"Shut up Romanova." I warned her in the deadliest tone.

"When's the wedding?" She mocked me, not ready for the answer that would come.

"Good morning baby."

One would say that hearing the same thing almost every morning for a year and a half would lose its magic, but Y/n's lips mumbling those three words against my shoulder as she spooned me made my heart jump every time.

I turned to lay on my back, so I could see her smile illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the white curtains.

"Y/n..." she beamed at her name leaving my lips. "I love you."

"I know." She chuckled, tracing a random pattern on my bare skin.

"Marry me."

A fit of laughter overcame her, but when she realized I didn't do the same, she fell serious. "Wait are you--"

"Maybe." I replied, paving my way out of the situation just in case I had made the biggest mistake ever.

"Maybe?" I nodded, trying to keep calm. "Maybe." I shut my eyes, realizing the teasing had started. "Maybe you're proposing but, y'know, just maybe."

"Stoooop." I covered my face with both my hands, which were soon removed by hers.

"If my answer is 'yes', would it still be maybe?"

"Maybe." I joked, happiness flooding every part of my being.

"Dumbass." She laughed, lying back down to cuddle me.

"Was going to be this winter." Natalia's eyes went wide and I looked down with a shrug. "Well have to move it since my life is now a mess." I spared her a brief glance in hopes to receive her approval.

How pathetic.

Though I was met with a genuine smile of hers. "I'm happy for you, really." my lips curved up with my eyes fixed on my bottle. "am I invited though?"

"Just if you don't get me killed."

She closed her eyes, letting out a soft laugh. "don't worry about that."

#Yelena Belova x fem reader #Yelena x reader #Yelena Belova fluff #Yelena fluff #Yelena x fem reader #Yelena fanfic #Yelena Belova #Yelena Belova request #Yelena request #Yelena x reader fanfiction #Yelena Belova x fem reader fluff #Wlw marvel #Marvel masterlist #Wlw fanfic #Marvel wlw #Yelena x Natasha #Yelena Belova x Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x fem reader

[roonil-wazlib-at-221b]

Insomnia

Request: can you do a peter parker one where it’s him and tony’s daughter (she’s not an avenger) and just cute things like he catches her with his mask on or tony finds out they’re having sex and stuff

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

If anyone would like, I can create a Peter Parker x Reader Taglist. Tell me if you’d be interested in joining it! Or if you’d like to be added to my Forever Taglist. Or any Taglist, really!

Enjoy!

Being a Stark comes with a lot of perks. There’s the money, the influence, the brains, the technology... so basically everything.

Unfortunately, everything also includes insomnia.

It’s 3 a.m. and you’re still awake, though that may be because you’ve been on Instagram for the past four hours (yes, it’s a little pathetic, but guess what? Another thing you’ve gotten from your father is the mental issues so sometimes you need a little me time). But you would have put your phone down if you were starting to get tired. Besides, while some nights you’re able to fall asleep if you stay still enough for long enough, other nights you’re too restless to fall asleep quick enough and other times your brain simply refuses to turn off.

It’s easier to distract yourself with the memes.

Your boyfriend, Peter Parker, lets out a soft snore next to you and you freeze for a second. Thankfully he’s such a deep sleeper that your restlessness doesn’t usually bother him. Not that Tony would be happy to figure out how many nights you two spend together, but come on, you’re nineteen and can make your own decisions. It’s not like he behaved any better when he was your age.

You’d been surprised Peter was such a light sleeper considering his Peter-tingle, but as he reminds you over and over again (just like he reminds you not to call it the Peter-tingle but his spider sense) it only works for threats and apparently he’s decided you’re not a threat.

He really is gorgeous. You roll over and pillow your arm under your head, looking at him sleep with a small smile on your face. His floppy curls are definitely your favorite aspect of his appearance. But then again, his jawline is pretty great. And so are his cute brown eyes—when they’re open, of course. And even when they’re closed you can see how thick and long they are, resting on his cheeks.

There’s not really a way for you to pick a favorite feature of Peter’s. He’s just so perfect.

You reach out, fingers hovering over his cheekbones, before retracting your hand and huffing, rolling onto your back. Even though his Peter-tingle might not alert him to you being awake, touching him might still wake him and he hasn’t been sleeping like he should recently. He’s got so much college work and that on top of his patrols exhausts him. Whenever he’s in his bed he’s so tired he falls asleep instantly. It’s a quality you both admire and resent a little bit.

Before college, during the summer, Peter would stay awake until you were asleep on the nights you slept at a normal time. When you sleep you don’t move around and he can spoon you. Unfortunately, if you’re still trying to sleep you move around quite a bit, trying to find the perfect position, and it’s uncomfortable for him to be holding you as you toss and turn every few minutes. So, for the past few—you frown. How long has it been? Days? Weeks? Months? You haven’t been able to hold him and Peter hasn’t been able to hold you, at least while sleeping.

Muttering curses under your breath, you sit up and ease off the bed, watching Peter anxiously for the faintest sign that he’s woken. You don’t want to be the reason Spider-man can’t go on patrol because he’s too tired. You don’t want to be the reason Peter sleeps instead of going to his nine a.m. class. Most of all, you don’t want to be the reason Peter Parker gives up on his life because he’s too tired.

Your right ankle cracks when you take the first step and you wince, craning your neck to see if Peter’s awake. He doesn’t appear to be and you tiptoe out of the room with relief, completely unaware that Peter has been awake since your first sigh of annoyance.

He sits up, rubbing his eyes, when the door closes, and stares after you, a sleepy pout puckering his lips.

You know where everything is in the compound. You live here, after all. Therefore, lights are unnecessary as you pace down hallway after hallway, too far inside the building for windows to let in moonlight to assist in your endeavor. Nevertheless, you find yourself in front of the workshop in the end.

You’re not an Avenger. Much as you’d like to be one, you weren’t specially trained and you don’t have superpowers. You’ve never had the right temperament for it, anyway; quick flashes of temper would more often than not land you in more trouble than you’d like and your inexperience could render you useless when it comes to more complicated, sometimes inhumane, situations. Not that you’re useless in a fight; you can hold your own, ever since Nat took you away for that week-long ‘girl’s retreat’. Tony hadn’t liked it, but it was necessary.

He still thinks of you as his child and you haven’t been a child for a very long time, unfortunately.

Speaking of Tony; he, too, is in the workshop, sipping a cup of coffee. His hair is a mess. The brightness inside makes you squint. “Hey, Y/N,” he greets. “What, are you turning in? What time is it, 10?” He checks his watch without waiting for your response and tilts his head when he sees that it is exactly 3:12 in the morning. “I guess I got a little caught up in my work, huh?” He brandishes the wrench in his hand and sets it on the table. “What about you? Spiderling keeping you awake?” He winks.

You grimace. “Gross, Dad. You’re not supposed to talk about that stuff with me.”

Tony nods. “Yeah, I felt ridiculous just saying it. But I’ve gotta keep up with the times, you know? I’m still a cool kid.” He huffs a small laugh again. “Besides, I’d rather it’s Spiderling than anyone else, really.”

“No, I just... couldn’t sleep.” You raise one shoulder, voice light. “But you should get to bed. You have work in the morning. I can sleep in.”

“You really should try to stay on a better schedule,” your dad reminds you. The brief moment of conventional parenting doesn’t surprise you, but it is uncommon. Your dad always was the cool parent. Not that you had an uncool parent, after all; it was always just you and Tony.

Until Pepper. You like Pepper. She’s nice but strict—probably the epitome of the ‘uncool’ parent. But you’re already enough of an adult that she doesn’t mess with your life too much.

“I know,” you say heavily, kissing his temple and shutting down his project behind his back. “I’ll try, Dad. Good night.”

“Good night, honey.” Tony stands up and exits the workshop, leaving you alone in the quiet, too bright room.

You sigh again. Maybe you’re nocturnal and that’s why you never can fall asleep at the right time. “Hey, FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Ms. Stark?”

“Could you pull up designs for Spider-man’s next upgrade?”

“Certainly.”

The computer in front of you lights up and a 3D rendering of Peter’s next suit rotates once. You’re not an Avenger, but you can make their suits. It’s easy enough. It’s nice to be able to help out, anyway. And you’re never going to let Peter live down that he accidentally called his dick the ‘ol’ webshooter’ when, flustered, he told you it was a little tight in the crotch area.

Absently, you pick up one of the many masks Peter has gone through. It’s lying on the table next to the computer, the eyes shattered from a collision with a street sign. Without even thinking, you slip it over your own head. The material melds to the bone structure of your face, so comfortable you don’t notice but if it was made of anything else you’d feel suffocated.

“Why are you still awake?”

You jump and turn. Peter stands in front of you shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, curls tousled and—stop, you mentally berate yourself. You can’t afford to get too excited right now because you know Peter won’t refuse you and he has class tomorrow.

Peter’s lips twitch when you pull the mask off your head hastily. “Why are you awake?” you accuse. “You have class tomorrow morning. Go back to sleep. I’ll be there in a few.”

Peter’s hands slip around your waist. You aren’t taken completely unawares; he’s headstrong and sometimes telling him to do something can make him want to do it even less. “The bed’s too cold without you.”

You sigh. “Oh, did I wake you up? I’m sorry. If you want, we can start to sleep in separate rooms again—”

“What? No!”

“—just on the nights you have stuff to do in the morning, because God knows I’ll keep you awake most nights anyway—”

“I have stuff to do every day, and—wait, most nights?”

“I’ve just been busy recently, Pete,” you mutter, relaxing into his hold and resting the side of your face against his warm, solid chest. “Can’t always turn the Stark brain off.”

Peter huffs a little bit. “Between you and Mr. Stark I’ve definitely got my hands full, huh?”

“Maybe when I become president I’ll convert the U.S. so that we’re nocturnal,” you suggest, giggling a bit. Peter plants a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’m sure you will. Now, come on,” he wheedles, “let’s go to bed.”

“Just a few more minutes—” you try, pushing away from his embrace, but unfortunately your boyfriend is a superhuman and doesn’t even budge. Instead, he keeps you caged in his arms and walks backwards, letting your legs drag behind your body.

“No,” Peter says firmly. He drags you all the way out of the room, turns off the light, and shuts the door before finally letting you go. “Now are you going to walk with me or do I have to carry you?”

You roll your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

He grins down at you. “You love me, though.”

“Do I?” you tease. Peter’s lips press against yours, a gentle peck, and he pulls back and rubs his left eye.

“You need sleep,” he reminds you. “So do I. Come on.” And then he starts down the hallway, pulling you along. And maybe you yawn. Either way, he ends up as the big spoon and you don’t even toss and turn all that much.

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey

#peter parker #Peter Benjamin Parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #reader insert #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #reader x peter parker #you x peter parker #stark!reader #tony stark

[bbbarneswrites]

Small Places

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Don’t they say that after a storm, there’s always calm?  Genre: Romance/fluff Rating: T Warnings: Swearings, mental health issues 3,809 words

Notes: Here we are with a new piece after all these months! The songs we got for this one are The Moon by The Swell Season and Cellar Door by Angus & Julia Stone. Hope you guys enjoy it! Feedback always welcomed! <3

The small studio stays right in the heart of Brooklyn, surrounded by themed bars, bright restaurants and a crowd of millennials that makes him cringe every once in a while.

It’s a shoebox.

A bed that fights for space with a small couch, a kitchen that can be sized by two of his steps alone and a cramped bathroom with a bathtub that he honestly can’t fit in. But be as it may, Bucky has never been in a more comfortable, warm and welcoming atmosphere.

A bed with polka-dotted, fluffy blankets, a couch with bright colored and quirky pillows, a kitchen with a line of gifted succulents by the counter and a bathroom with filled shelves of sweet smelling products.

Pictures on the walls, sketches and love notes hung to the fridge, shared clothes thrown over in little corners.

Everything is so lively and familiar—it feels like home outside of his home.

The four walls of your little studio have been witnesses to so much. Whispered love confessions, frantic murmurs of comfort, quiet pleads in between moans, anger filled little lies, and the list can only go on.

There’s a Friday night.

Discarded containers of take-out on the coffee table, and maybe a carton of Ben & Jerry’s forgotten around after a fight over the last spoon. Netflix midway through a random episode of Stranger Things because yeah, Bucky has a growing crush on Winona Ryder. Peace fills up every fiber of his being, and looking down to the sight before him, things can’t feel more right.

“Your heart is beating so fast.” You mumble quietly, chin leaning up to rest upon his chest. A flesh arm tightens around your frame, and a lazy grin grows on your lips. “Are you nervous being around me, Bucky?”

The lightness laced to your voice is familiar, a tone he’s heard many, many times within the warmth of a shared trustfulness.

A smile curls up his lips. Even then, the sound never fails to make Bucky content and happy.

“I’m always nervous around you, baby.” He jokes, a gentle kiss pressing to your temple that earns a happy hum from your chest. “You’re way out of my league.”

Bucky’s smile widens with a muffled whine of protest, and his vibranium hand reaches out to push a strand of hair away from your eyes when you shift on the way-too-small couch. With your face still buried to his chest, there’s no space left between both of you. The fluffy hem of your socks tickles his legs and the skin of his tummy rise up in shivers under your fingers.

Meanwhile, Erica Sinclair goes off about capitalism on TV.

Despite the length of your relationship, a small part of him still gets surprised over moments like this.

Soft fingertips reaching out to his marred left shoulder, a light touch to trace the harsh and old outlines of his scars, by now the only ugly looking, physical reminder of a time of his life that’s best left behind to be buried and forgotten.

With a little giggle escaping from your mouth, Bucky halts his thoughts to focus.

“You’re cute.” You wink playfully, biting your lower lip to hold back another laugh. His cheeks instantly flush a little under the fairy lights of your walls. “This little scar here looks like a stick figure.”

The touch feels nice as your index finger brush over a particular spot near his collarbone. Though he’s observed every single detail of the marks in several occasions, more than enough to make him very familiar with its designs, he immediately takes your hand with his own. Wrapped fingers together, you guide him through his little stick figure.

It’s a little joke, he knows, but Bucky still grins as you make him trace the funny lines of a quirky drawing to his own skin.

And when you tip his chin with your thumb a moment later? Warmth radiating from your body pressed up to his? And lips sweetly meeting his own?

That’s his peace.

There’s a Wednesday morning.

After arriving from a mission, sore muscles and half-healed scabs, Bucky just couldn’t see himself going back to the apartment he shares with Sam—especially after a two week long mission, taking in everything that his partner had to say. And trust, Sam Wilson has a lot of things to say.

To top of it all, he’s missed you.

Missed your laugh and your kisses and your touch. The way you tuck his hair behind his ears, the plush of your lips to the base of his neck. Your cuddles and your warmth and your care. Two long, painstaking slow weeks.

The place is warm as he steps in, slits of moonlight escaping through your blinds. Coming home to you feels right, takes off an edge from his heart, as if everything is right in the world again.

Only silence as Bucky slips under the blankets.

Bleary eyes barely taking him in.

And a happy but tired hum before a familiar frame cuddles to his side.

Sleep welcomes him right in.

Any person that lives in New York can easily list a series of upsides and downsides to coexisting in a studio apartment this small. An upsidde is that you can see and hear everything and the downside is that you can see and hear everything.

White numbers cover up your face on the screen of his phone as it marks 3:36AM. The shuffling and clashing in the kitchen isn’t unusual except for the late hour. Barely four hours of sleep later, and Bucky’s watching a pajama-clad you pour chocolate into a bowl through squinted, heavy eyes.

“Think I need to put you on a sleep schedule.” He murmurs. The sound is low but enough to make you jump on the spot, turn around with a scowl that makes him chuckle. “Come back to bed.”

The tense features of your face melt into a mix of worry and dejection.

“I can’t!” You cry, hands coming up to cover your face in frustration, words all muffled. “I promised I’d bake brownies for the book fair but I was so tired and I meant to take a nap while waiting for you but I just slept and now I woke you up!”

It takes two steps until Bucky has your frame into his arms, a perfect fit that rises butterflies in your stomach after the two, very long weeks. With vibranium fingertips brushing along your cheeks in a gentle caress, every negative feeling slips away.

“You were waiting for me?” Bucky pulls back a little, enough to see you pout through a nod. A loving smile grows easily to his mouth right before a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you.”

Brownies are made in record time with two sets of wandering hands.

And are successfully sold out by two excellent sellers.

There’s a Monday afternoon.

Clouds are looming over the city. Cold, bitter winds singing loud enough outside. The first few signs of fall can be spotted by a quick walk in the neighborhood by now, trees turning into different shades of brown as pumpkin orange starts to pop everywhere.

Back to a few hours earlier, Bucky begrudgingly kisses you goodbye at the cramped doorstep, fixing your heart-shaped earmuffs with a wish of a good day at school. No paperwork or assignments under his name for a change, the place shelters him from any unexpected Avenger responsability, and he’s more than glad to wait home for you.

Separated dirty clothes, clean dishes back to the cupboards, made-up bed with fresh sheets, organized books and trinkets and papers for the small study table.

Homecoming isn’t as comforting.

Between quiet sniffles, red-rimmed teary eyes and angry huffs of frustration with the addition of a warm tea cup, Bucky cuddles you up to his lap until peace has settled again.

“You gonna tell me who I’m killing tonight?” He jokes half-heartedly, chest a little bit lighter as you giggle quietly, offering a slap to his arm. “Just say the word and I’ll do it.”

A single look from you and his heart swells with affection, the feelings hidden behind the simple act never failing to leave him speechless, wondering if there’s another shoe to drop.

There’s always another shoe to drop in his life.

“You don’t do that anymore, remember?” You say softly, a smart smile playing on your lips that’s followed by a tired, but now content sigh. “I’m okay, promise. Just a bad morning in school that wasn’t expected.”

Hands brought closer together and a kiss pressed to your knuckles by his lips.

Bad days take no excuse.

“Okay, doll.” Bucky frowns, eyes squinted in pretend suspicion as he smirks. “You really sure though? I can call Sam.”

“I’m sure, goober.” You roll your eyes through a laugh, instantly leaning closer until his lips are brushing to your own. “It’s all better now with you.”

Seventy years of a missed life, most of which he’s spent nearly under seven feet underground, locked up like an animal and abused for selfish power. Ruthless damage to every inch of his being, every sliver of hope taken from him without permission for decades. Now, eight years after a seeming never ending storm, Bucky finds reason in all of this.

It feels good to know that she’s with him too.

And if the day ends up to both of you curled up in the back booth of the diner down the street, ordering a late night breakfast with pancakes and eggs and bacon, then it’s a good day after all.

There’s a Thursday night.

The day has been slow in the apartment given your day-off from school. Silence and a few movies on Netflix are your companions, except for the visit of your friendly neighborhood stray cat, Alpine, who climbs up to your windowsill every day without fail. Bucky is usually the one who feeds him, and mostly the one who’s unofficially adopted the kitten.

A pause here for a quick, improvised meal between homework, another pause there for a bath under glittery bath bombs.

Being away from him is normal.

His missions can last to mere hours to unexpected months. Living within the job is basically the norm, all with recruits training, team meetings and securing duties. Your classes are demanding, both physically and mentally. It never ends and never leaves you, always something to be started or done back home.

Either way, anxiousness never leaves you in a week like this.

Nearing a certain date on the calendar, Bucky’s plagued by restless nights.

It feels like a sore spot in his body, one he knows all about it but still can’t help but be upset at, poking and prodding around as a way to remember it. Despite knowing his best-friend way too well, Steve’s choice wasn’t one taken lightly back then.

The reasoning is fair and understandable but it doesn’t lessen the bitterness of a brief meeting after a six year long disappearance.

Not much can be done by now, but two years after Steve’s official death, Bucky still plays what ifs in his head. 

After gentle coaxing in between kisses in the night before and encouraging hugs and squeezes in the morning after, Bucky spends the whole day back at the compound, a scheduled therapy session set to the calendar of his phone.

When sunlight falls to a sheet of night stars, familiar but heavy steps sound like music to your  ears.

A random song playing through your laptop and slow beats welcome Bucky home.

It takes a single look at you until he’s sighing relieved, hauling your frame up to his arms in the middle of the small kitchen, where you both barely fit in during busy mornings with shoulder bumps and mumbled but playful complaints.

Sure it has been a pretty nostalgic day but nothing beats being right there.

“You smell good.” Bucky says, an almost shy mumble against your hair, his arms gently tightening around you. “Peach?”

The easy but definitely familiar guess makes you smile instantly. Heat rises on your cheeks, your chin rests on his chest as your eyes look for his own, very blue, very alive compared to a few hours back. Golden detailed fingertips brush your cheeks and a content hum escapes from your lips instantly.

“That bathbomb you gave me, remember?” You smile, voice sounding small and equally as shy until Bucky tips down, his lips meeting your own in a featherlike kiss that makes you sigh. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky smiles, crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes and then, the smooth sway starts. Finding rhythm with the slow beats still playing background, you can’t help but feel your chest lighter. In that moment, neither of you need to share words to know, he doesn’t need to tell you about his session for the feelings to sink.

Despite any doubt and above any insecurity, being right there feels just right.

It’s not his day and age. For a long time, he was nothing but a misplaced piece of the universe. Then without his best-friend, just an unknown face for the team to swallow.

Not anymore.

There was a time of misplacement and sure, he no longer has Steve on a back-up call but life has given him good things. Good people. Sam and Wanda. Love. You. And in that moment, after a long day of reflection, Bucky just feels thankful above any odd feeling.

“Feelin’ great.” He muses. It’s genuine and it makes your smile widen upon his accent slip, only cut short by Bucky’s lips briefly meeting yours again. “Thank you.”

Background music switching to an upbeat song and the shared slow, careful sway doesn’t change.

“What for?” You frown, wide eyes flicking between confusion and amusement through a quiet, huffed laugh. A beat until you look up through your eyelashes, and a sheepish shrug. “I haven’t done anything.”

Bucky bites back the reply—you’ve done everything and more, you’re everything—words for another time, other plans, a day with a better start. After all, he’s not going anywhere.

This is his place now.

And in the end of the day, that’s all it matters.

There’s a Saturday afternoon.

An array of long dresses and skirts mix-up with button-ups and printed ties on the bed, make-up and skin products all over the cabinet. The sun slowly lies down to a soft hue of orange that paints the bedroom space, and the off-beat singing coming from the bathroom makes you smile every now and then.

A coat of lipstick to the lips, mascara to the eyelashes. A well-placed hair pin to the side of your hair. Out of the bathroom Bucky gets, black suit and tie in place, not a wrinkle on sight to the white button-up shirt. The singing turns to a faint humming.

Short hair, trimmed beard. His blue eyes are alight. Positively beaming.

It’s just a few hours to go until the big event starts—Mr. and Mrs. Wilson anniversary, which they’re celebrating with one big ceremony to renew their vows with their children present. Bucky, much to Sam’s feigned dismay and Darlene Wilson’s stubborness, is now considered one of them.

In the very few opportunities you got to meet Darlene, she was nothing short of sweet to you and incredibly motherly to your boyfriend. Not much is needed to see how happy Bucky is to be participating in their day, and you can’t help but beam right back at him.

“Looking so handsome!” You grin, watching through the mirror as Bucky sits on the bed, shiny black shoes set on the floor. His lips are holding back a smirk. “I mean it, Bucky! This hair? I’m marrying you.”

At the words, Bucky looks up.

Between the Blip, his missions, your classes and whatnot, neither of you ever discussed the possibilities of a long-term future.

Have you both thought about it, though? Absolutely.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble.” Bucky sighs. Quickly settling into his shoes, a crooked smile curves up his mouth as he stands up, gentle fingers around your satin clad waist. “You’re so beautiful. I’m a lucky bastard, aren’t I?”

It feels like your brain instantly turns to mush over his words, and your tongue stumbles to find proper words to reply his sudden sweet outburst. Heat spreads through your neck and cheeks as you lean back against his chest, feeling Bucky’s arms wrap you completely with such warmth like home is supposed to feel.

Watching your reflections through the mirror, you can’t help but think how comforting the situation is, even if it can look silly to anybody else. How comforting is to see you with him, the changes, the little quirks that remain the same after a straight up mess.

How funny is it that you want to turn your little comment into reality?

How funny is it that Bucky wants that moment of certainty to freeze?

“You’ve got to help me with something.” You break the silence, smiling shyly before reaching out to the small jewelry box sitting on your make-up cabinet. A silver necklace with a studded little star is pulled out. “Please?”

Smart fingers wrap the necklace around your neck with ease, the touch of vibranium rising shivers to your skin as Bucky closes it with a little kiss pressed between your shoulder blades.

There’s that little moment of silence again until a sigh escapes from his lips, a beat of hesitancy rushing through his body before he’s fishing for the black box in his pocket. A box he’s been carrying for way too long now, just waiting for its buyer to build up the damn courage because that’s all it takes.

I mean it, Bucky! I’m marrying you.

“I’ve got something else for you to wear tonight.” Bucky says. Heart pounding violently through his chest, so much he thinks you might hear it, but voice sounding as light as ever under your curious eyes. “I—I’ve had it for a long time now. And I know it might not be the perfect moment but you just said you’d marry me.”

Turning around to face him, your mouth immediately falls open. Chest to chest, your eyes searching for his. And ss Bucky lifts the little velvet box and flips it open so, so easily with his metal thumb, your choked, disbelieved laugh fills the room.

The ring is beautiful.

No fancy stones, just a simple, silver band formed to wrap around a finger with its two ends meeting together on the top.

Both of you kept meeting each other over and over through accords, battles and sudden disappearances.

It’s meaningful enough to make your heart beat faster.

“You can’t be serious. Are you?” You ask dumbly, a silly smile soon growing on your lips as Bucky gives a playful glare. “You are. Holy shit, Bucky!”

“You aren’t sayin’ yes, baby doll.” Bucky jokes, starting to feel jittery with nerves despite a small grin. Under the anxiety and accent slip, he’s just loving to see how positively astonished you look. “I’m sweating under this suit and it won’t be good for—”

Red lips crash upon his in a rush, your fingers fisting the lapels of his suit so hard that Bucky almost stumbles on his feet, making him pull your body flush against his own. He’s sure your fingers are wrinkling his jacket just as much as his metal ones are wrinkling the delicate fabric of your dress. And your make-up, thank God, you’re wearing the smudge-proof lipstick.

There’s no time to breathe between quick, several pecks and a gasped but definitely excited reply.

“I am saying yes!”

There’s another Satuday afternoon.

A pair of booted feet walks through the tight hallway of the shoebox apartment, laughter completely filling the place as a pair of heeled feet bumps the wall in a funny noise.

The white sandals are a perfect match for the white mini dress, its hem flowing over very familiar thighs, showing a little too much because the position—or general space really, isn’t the best. Turns out that despite your skepticism, Bucky can carry you in bridal style through the cramped space. Even though, you can easily spot a stain in the back of his blazer because of a knocked vase. 

It doesn’t really matter.

As Bucky puts you down, your heels are kicked off and you immediately reach out to the memory board on the wall, pinning up a marriage certificate like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

When you turn around, Bucky is sitting by the edge of the bed just like one week ago, but now sans apprehension of an insecure man.

“We’re married!”

The gleeful tone of your words make him smile right away, pulling you closer with a gentle tug until you’re standing between his legs. Towering over him, your hands cup both of Bucky’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over the sharp, stubbly cheekbones. Your heart swells in your chest, happiness and love and calmness, because everything about the day really had been simple.

A city hall wedding with Sam, Wanda and Sam’s parents as witnesses, exactly a week after their own second wedding. Very simple and easy, as the decision of marrying each other had been.

“You’re officially a Barnes.” Bucky grins, hands brushing down the back of your thighs. Gentle fingertips under the hem of your dress, he silently urges you to sit on his lap. “Told ya, got me in trouble.”

“You say that as if you didn’t want to marry me.” You scoff playfully, wrapping your arms around his neck as settling down over him. “You can’t fool me. I totally noticed you were nervous back there.”

Not bothering to deny your words, Bucky shrugs. Even though he was nervous, it doesn’t really matter. Wrapped up in each other, surrounded by the quietness of the apartment, all he cares about is you.

A little kiss pressed to your neck.

“Well, you’d be nervous too if you were marryin’ the prettiest girl in the world.”

A laugh and a little kiss pressed to his nose.

“Well, I was nervous marrying the prettiest boy in the world.”

And then—Bucky’s lips are meeting yours in a soft kiss that swallows a sigh, hands steady and gentle around your waist as he dips down to the bed under your body. It feels like you’re both back at the ceremony again, high on your love and completely unaware of everything that isn’t each other. And he kisses you once, twice, three, four times.

Just enough to ground him, to remind him that this is what his life came to.

Don’t they say that after a storm, there’s always calm?

Yeah, well. This little shoebox apartment in the heart of Brooklyn.

This might be just it.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel #mcu #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #another fic of mine ending with marriage #oh well

[hecohansen31]

For the soulmate foursome, it's clear that they all love their little girl now, but... Michael is still very cold ! It's his nature, but when she sees him so sweet with Jimmy, so cuddly with Duncan, their girl has some doubts. She needs to feel that he trusts her, by showing his true face : a lil pup full of fears and love.

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

How are you? 

I hope you’ll like this new piece for the foursome, I honestly love these babes and Michael in this dynamic is just UWU...

As always, if you don’t like this just shoot me an ask or a DM and I’ll rewrite it!

Have a nice reading!

WARNINGS: Mention of Work Harassment, Rejection, Slight Violence, Nightmares, Tiredness and Jim’s Idiotic Humor.

Michael was literally the embodiment of ‘are you the little spoon or the big spoon? I am a knife’ meme.

Which was something that Jim had said jokingly to you, as you had voiced your doubts towards Michael’s love for you.

You didn’t deny that he was attracted to you, at least physically, but whenever you would do something even remotely romantic, he would retreat in himself, almost frozen on the spot, and you couldn’t help but feel like he was more a puppet than actually Michael.

And he only had this behavior with you, because you saw the way he would purr as Duncan dove, almost distractedly, an hand in his hair when they were on the couch and he was checking emails, Michael immediately relaxing under him.

Or when Jimmy would make some dumb joke and Michael would laugh like he had just proclaimed an universal truth, gently holding his lover’s hand as he brought it to his lips, or when he would comfort Jimmy during his nightmares, although he had learned how to let you in.

Every sexual action never seemed to be spurred on by Michael, although by the end of the day his hard-on would wake you up on the mornings you fell asleep in his arms, but he never seemed to initiate anything with you, whereas he had no qualm dragging Jimmy in his bedroom or kissing Duncan when you both visited him in his office.

You didn’t know whether he was simply too stiff to warm up to you or you should have just given him his time.

That was what had suggested Duncan the diplomat, whereas Jimmy had gone for a more direct approach, suggesting you just tied the man to the bed and showed him a thing or two about ‘your beautiful body’.

You definitely didn’t know why you still bothered to ask Jimmy for advice.

But then Destiny decided to give you a hand, gently pushing you and Michael together.

Duncan would be gone for an entire week a business trip and that same week Jimmy had wanted to visit Medina since she would be soon leaving for a world tour of surf and he wanted to spend a bit of time together, even more when he knew the tension that staying with you and Michael would arise.

‘Everything is going to be alright’ he promised ‘… please just fuck out the tension, don’t throw knives, Duncan would be pissed if he had to redecorate’.

‘Thank you for thinking about my life, babe’ you had replied, as you had closed the door in his face ‘… suck your own dick, since you are supportive the kitchen, again’.

But strangely the first days without Jimmy and Duncan went pretty well, mostly because you and Michael stayed on your own with your own routines.

You would be leaving for work, come back by night, shower after Michael did (which meant that the water was never ‘boiling hot’ but you couldn’t hold Michael’s accountable for that… mostly with that glorious hair) and then you would dine together.

Michael would try awkwardly to ask how your day had gone and you would reply a bit less awkwardly.

And then you would go to sleep.

Each one in a separate room.

Then the third day the miracle happened.

You had just come back from work: it had been a tiring day, working with children wasn’t always easy.

That day you had also slept terribly and when you had come back home you still had papers to grade and projects to go through, which would make your night even longer no matter your need for bed and food, and a long warm shower…

You had come in the kitchen, barging in lightly more aggressively than you usually did, and you hadn’t certainly expected Michael to be there, eating softly some sweet and you couldn’t help but feel like you were intruding on his peace, immediately grabbing all the bags you had dropped and mumbling a soft ‘sorry’, as you moved away.

“No no, stay” he replied, something in his voice making you turn around, and as you came to face with him, he looked curious… almost worried “... is everything alright?”.

“Just an hard day at school” you muttered, releasing a soft breath “I do think that if it isn’t a problem I’d like to shower first, so that I can then dedicate my soul and body to going through the children’s works”.

“… sorry to hear that” and he seemed to mean it, before he pushed out a small chair next to him “… and I don’t mind it absolutely, but first do you want some of this tiramisu? It honestly tastes amazing”.

And you didn’t doubt it since it came from one of the most known bakeries of the city.

But what truly startled you was the fact Michael had just offered you one of his precious sweets and you looked at him confused as if he had grown another head, but refused politely, sure that it was a trick.

Michael would never share his sweets with anyone: he always preferred to get more than to share.

So why was he sharing it with you?

“I won’t kill you if you want a piece, I swear” he insisted “… I know that I can be… possessive on my sweets, but I just… I just think that you might need this more than I do”.

In fact, you low key felt like you might need a bit of sugar to get yourself to be better.

“… just a piece” you promised him, and he just looked at you in the eyes, honesty shining in his beautiful turquoise gems.

“Honestly you can take it all, I wouldn’t mind it”.

---

If that hadn’t been enough to scare you about Michael’s behavior, making you wonder what had made him change, something interesting had happened on Friday.

Usually Duncan would reserve that day as a day off from work with you, if his week had been calm enough: you would go out for a coffee, something rather calm and trivial, but you cherished those memories, because they made you feel comfortable and fall more in love with your beloved idiot.

You would do a similar thing with Jim, going to see him training every Wednesday and then spending time sharing a milkshake together, at your favorite diner.

You hadn’t any of this kind of things with Michael, but you knew, because you had spied the conversation, that Duncan had made him promise to cover his ‘shift’ with you on Friday, hence Michael had very ‘not genuinely’ asked you out for a coffee after you finished work.

And you were now waiting for the beautiful man to arrive, having arrived early and grading some of the papers you hadn’t been able to finish the previous days, and you had been a bit warmed up by the beautiful atmosphere of the secluded coffee.

It was a bit more expensive that the ones around the city, but you just loved it too much to notice the money you spent on it (and Duncan usually paid so…).

And as you were waiting an hand touched your shoulder, startling you but you quickly recovered thinking it was Michael and his feline-like grace but you were disappointed a you saw Mr. Tinsel, one of the fathers of your students.

Who had flirted with you at any teacher-parents meeting, to the point where you were so uncomfortable that you started to always avoid him.

But this time there was no running away.

“Mrs. (L/N)!” he called out to you with more energy than he should have, not releasing your shoulder from his grip as you raised your eyes to rank them slowly onto his greasy attire, something between a mix of ‘my wife left me because I wouldn’t shower’ and ‘this is fashionable trash’ “… so nice to see you!”.

“Absolutely” you hoped your wondering smile would make sure that he understood you weren’t feeling the same way “How is Priscilla?”.

That child was literally the original ‘problematic one’ and you could totally understand with a father like that, spoiled and brattish, but also definitely uncared and having a lack of affection in her life.

“… an angel truly” you doubted it but smiled again more out of convenience than anything else “… and very much in love, like me, with her teacher”.

‘Good Lord if you ever loved me, please please just throw a lighting on his way’ you muttered in your mind, with a wary smile to the man who sat in front of you, a distinct show that he wanted to stay, completely taking advantage of your alone moment.

“That’s actually for my partner…” you tried to say “… I am waiting for him”.

“Oh, but I don’t see him around” he gave you a charming smile, and you simply sent a worried one, checking the door, as you tried to go back to grading your papers giving Mr. Tinsel no attention, but soon your interest was caught by a small protesting ‘humph’ Mr. Tinsel released “… hey I got this lace before!”.

And as you raised your face, Michael was looming onto Mr. Tinsel, his eyes definitely burning an hole through the poor man who still stood his ground but didn’t have much choice as Michael got the chair out of his ass, making him fall onto it, with a fluid motion as he readjusted the chair closer to you, sitting on it and sending you a quick glance as you looked at the entire scene shocked.

“… hey sweetheart, sorry for being late”.

---

All those mixed signals were driving you crazy and the drop that filled and made your vase overflow was when Michael insisted on you sleeping together on Saturday night, after a movie marathon, insisting on needing a bit of help to sleep these days.

‘You wouldn’t mind, would you?’ he had asked you as you stared at him as if he had just revealed you, he was ‘the king of the world’.

‘No no’ you had almost chocked on your own saliva as you had pushed yourself to reply quickly.

And now you were in his bedroom, staring at the ceiling on your back, your hand on your stomach, aching because of the anxiety of such an intimate act that Michael regarded with the least attention, having simply slipped in bed in pajama pants and nothing more, as he curled onto one side, in a fetal position, pushing himself the furthest away from you.

In the end sleep overcame you wonderings and thoughts, but you were quickly brought back to reality as you felt something turning around in your bed, startling you and paralyzing you onto the mattress as you calmed your breath and analyzed the situation.

You immediately came to the quick conclusion that it was Michael turning around the bed, since you were in his bedroom and pushed in an upright position so that you could see what was going on.

And found Michael twisting his body in what looked like a painful memory, transformed in an awful nightmare and as you gently pushed yourself to softly brush an hand against his shoulder, aware that you had to wake him up, he snapped.

He quickly went into survival mood, gripping onto your hand in a way that pained you, pushing onto your wrist as he quickly pulled you under him, effectively stopping any movements and protests, and as his hand wrapped around your throat you found yoyrself fearing for your life.

You had never witnessed a nightmare of his.

You hadn’t even known he had such and almost cursed yourself for having used such a bold attempt till Michael’s eyes snapped open, taking in the situation and you muttered through your slow breaths.

‘It’s me, (Y/N), Michael’ and as his eyes slowly became bright eyes in the darkness of the room ‘… you are hurting me’.

And as burned, he immediately retreated his hand from your hands, definitely taking in the harshness of his action, before recognition of who you were overtook him and you immediately turned away from him, to regain your breath as you wondered what you had to do.

You were still scared by his aggressive answer but you could hear him being pained beside you, still as stone and cold as ice as you slowly moved to take a look at him, on his back and watching anything that wasn’t you, although your movement quickly caught his attention.

“Michael, are you…?” ‘ok’, ‘crazy, ‘safe’… you didn’t know what to say but Michael simply nodded your head more out of habit, than actually feeling ‘better’, and your heart chocked a bit, tightening in your chest, as you realized he had nightmare, he just hid them “… you had a nightmare, you aren’t ok, I can feel how shaken you are and I…”.

“It’s none of your business” the harshness of your words hurt you much more than is chokehold, but you couldn’t simply give up.

“It is” your voice had his same harshness as you propped onto your elbow turning onto your stomach as you softened your gaze “… you are my lover like Duncan and Jimmy and I always help them through nightmares”.

“But I am not like either of them!” he protested, not even looking at you in the eyes, and you gave him all the time in the world “… I am not cheery as Jimmy and romantic as Duncan”.

“Then you are you: elegant and algid Michael with a love for sweets and for luxurious things, I don’t really need anything else, truly, I mean… I have cheery Jim and romantic Duncan and a very very sweet Michael, I just need you the way you are”.

This seemed to breech something in Michael as he sent you a quick look to you as if to make sure that you weren’t lying.

“… I almost hurt you”.

“Also Jimmy and Duncan did, the first times they had a nightmare, it’s not you, it’s the nightmares” you explained softly, daring to let an hand out to him to settle it between you “… once I know how to deal with yours nightmares, I won’t be hurt anymore”.

Although Michael still needed more convincing, he grabbed softly your hand.

“… we are in this together” you promised him, gripping a bit tighter his hand to let him know that you were right there with him.

“I like being held when I have nightmares, not too tightly” he explained, not daring to look at you, already halfway nestling through your arms.

“… then I do think that I can do that for you”.

#Michael Langdon #Michael Langdon Reader #Michael Langdon x Reader #Michael Langdon Imagine #Michael Langdon Fic #Michael Langdon Fluff #Fluff #michael langdon ask #Michael Langdon Drabble #Michael Langdon Blurb #Michael Langdon Moodboard #Ahs #Ahs 8 #Ahs Apocalypse #Duncan Shepherd #Jim Mason #The Foursome #Duncan Shepherd Reader

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker-First kisses

Plot: Peter Parker’s and yours first, or five, first kisses.

Warnings: drug use, tiny bit of angst (nothing important), extreme fluff.

The first time he kissed you was in kindergarten. Peter and you had just met, you two being little kids with chubby cheeks and small feet. He was that kind of child who gets along with every other, and you were no exception. Since you were neighbours and your mother was good friends with May, you went to kindergarten together. One day, you were sitting in the play yard when Peter sat beside you, his little hands empty and his cheeks tear stained. He hugged his small knees and hid his face in them, as if he wanted to disappear.

“What’s the matter?” you asked him, your mouth full of sandwich.

“Flash took my lunch” Peter mumbled, his voice shaky. You looked back to see the kid laughing with his ‘friends’, in his mouth the cookies that May had prepared for him with so much love.

You frowned and looked back to Peter, who had his head out of his knees and was looking at the ground. His big brown eyes were full of tears, and you felt angry for your friend. As carefully as a child could cut a sandwich into two halves, you gave Peter part of your sandwich. It was smashed and his part was smaller than yours. Still, Peter’s eyes filled with happiness and pressed his lips against your food-full mouth.

“Ugh, Pete, that was gross!” you stuck out your tongue and pressed a hand to your mouth, wiping it furiously.

“It wasn’t gross!” he showed you a big smile. “Aunt May does that when uncle Ben does something good.”

“I don’t want to do that ever again” you shook your head and scoffed. “If you do it, I’m taking my sandwich back!”

Peter laughed and took a bite of his new food, half of them staining his t-shirt. Needless to say, you did that again.

 -

Your second kiss was a little bit different. Peter and you were starting high school, both of you still friends, as in the first day you met. Only that time, Ned and MJ were also there with you. Chemistry was probably your less favourite class, but it was the one that Peter loved. It was bearable if he was around. That day, he wasn’t in it. He had been missing for two days in a row, not sending you a text or calling you. Aunt May had told you that he was sick and that he was locked in his room, with high fever. So, you decided to pay him a visit.

“Peter?” you asked when you entered his apartment, using the keys May had let you.

Inside, it was dark and silent, but you heard faint cries coming from your best friend’s room. You ran towards there, expecting to see Peter crying because of the pain, because of the fever or because he needed help. You expected a lot of things, yet none of them was seeing him hanging from the ceiling, with his head upside down, while his tears hit the floor under him.

Of course, you screamed. You spent a few seconds screaming, as Peter moved his hands up and down in front of him and tried to talk through the sobs. When you were calmer, you managed to ask him.

“What-How the hell are you doing that?!” you almost screamed. Honestly, you were ready to faint.

“I-I don’t… I don’t k-know Y/N” he let out a sob. “There-There was… a s-spider, and then I-I, this, and n-now I don’t… I don’t k-know how to g-get off!”

Pushing your surprise aside, you stepped slowly until your noses were touching, and awkwardly locked your hand on his back. The idea was to pull until he touched the floor; two scared and panicking teenagers couldn’t really understand that gravity wasn’t on their side, so when he finally fell you ended up in the worst position you had even been.

His body had carried yours to the floor too, and his face was awfully close to your breasts. Stuttering and blushing, you stumbled away from him, and Peter wiped his tears away. Taking a few seconds to calm yourself and that strange thing that had just happened in your stomach, you talked again.

“What is this about?” you asked, sitting on the ground in front of him. “How-H-How did you get…there?”

“Promise me you’re going to listen to me” he took both of your hands between his, and squeezed them. “I’m not- it’s not a lie. But please, promise me you’re going to listen.”

“Yeah, I promise.”

Peter told you how, a week ago, he had visited a strange place with his uncle Ben, and a spider had bitten him. What started as improved senses, then was the ability to stick to walls. He confessed to you that he hadn’t told anyone, and that he was scared. While he talked, tears started to run down his cheeks, and his breathing became irregular.

You knew that Peter had problems with anxiety. He had always been a very nervous boy, and usually didn’t know how to handle his emotions. So, when he raised a hand and placed it against his chest, you started to panic. Either May or Ben were always there when something like that happened, ready to give him his inhaler; but they weren’t there.

“Where is your inhaler?” you looked around and got up. His bed was empty, his drawers were full of clothes and in his desk were a lot of weird books about fluids. Yet his inhaler wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Peter, I can’t help you! Where-Where is your inhaler?!”

When Peter looked up, you couldn’t believe your eyes. His inhaler, along with a lot of random objects, were on the ceiling, trapped by small white webs that reminded you to a spider house. You blinked surprised, finally realising the mess in your best friend’s room. There were test tubes, spoons, jars an vials. All of them filled with the weird white substance.

“Are they-Peter!” you dropped to your knees when you saw his face starting to get blue, his eyes wide and red. His throat didn’t let him get air, and he was drowning in anxiety. You did the only thing you thought about.

Technically, it wasn’t a kiss. It was just you joining your mouths and breathing in his. You had seen it done thousands of times in the films Peter and you liked to see on Friday’s night. Your hands gripped the ends of his hair, and you closed your eyes awkwardly.

It wasn’t beautiful; it was as messy as that room. When you parted, he was breathing again and you were as red as his future suit. His arms were around you in a second, and you hugged him tightly. That night, you slept on his apartment, with the permission of your parents; and you repeated again and again the same sentence.

“I’ve got you, no matter what”

 -

The third kiss was much more sadder, and held much more meaning. It was Tuesday morning and, against what people liked to tell in that kind of situations, the sun was high in the sky and the birds sang. Though no one was happy.

You were standing between Ned and MJ, looking down to the coffin in front of you. There were people crying, talking and some of them were in silence. All mourning the good man that had gone too soon. Excusing yourself softly, you walked towards your parents, who were talking with May. Peter was by her side, his hands hidden in his pockets and his head hung low. He wasn’t crying, but you knew he wanted to. After a sweet hug with May and a short goodbye to your parents, you took your best friend’s hand and started walking.

Peter kept quiet all the way, letting you lead him through the mass of people in the funeral. Once you reached a seclude place, you let go of his hand and looked at him. He had dark bags under his eyes, and since you were shorter than him, you could see his cracked lips and red nose.

“Did you sleep at all?”

The previous day, he had gotten a call from the police saying that Ben had been killed in an unfortunate accident. Your parents had told you that night, and Peter had told you that he wanted to be alone for a while. In that moment, you didn’t know if it had been a good idea.

Peter shrugged, not looking at you.

“Eat something?” you asked again, receiving the same answer. You sighed before talking again. “Did you, uh, went out?”

He knew what you were talking about. ‘Patrolling’, as he liked to call it, was dumb to you, so you had told him that you would talk about it as going out.

“For a bit” his voice was rough, and he had to cough after talking. You were the first person he had talked with.

“And did you get hurt?” you wondered. Peter’s attention was short, and if he was thinking about other things while swinging, he used to hit a wall or the ground. He shook his head before taking a shaky breath, his eyes becoming glossy.

“I miss him already” his bottom lips trembled, and you were glued to your best friend in a second. You wrapped your arms around him and he hid his head on your shoulder. At just fifteen years old, a huge height difference separated you.

“It’s going to be okay” you whispered, hearing the first sob breaking through. “It’s going to be okay, I’m here.”

Peter cried and his body shook, the peace around the trees breaking at his sobs. He soaked your nice and new black blouse you had wore that day and wrinkled it’s back, but you didn’t say a thing. You just gripped his curls tighter and repeated the same sentence again and again.

“I’m with you, no matter what”

Later that day, when everyone had already left the place, you found yourself in the same position. Your feet hurt and you arms were staring to feel tired from being up so much time. May and your parents walked towards you and stopped when you shook your head softly, telling them silently that you would meet them later. Peter needed that.

After what felt like two hours, Peter lifted his head between hiccups. He had his brown eyes swollen and his face was a mess. Still, you felt at odd feeling in your chest. His bottom lip quivered again, and he broke eye contact with you.

“I don’t want to go home” he whispered. “I don’t- May, she will be there… a-and I don’t w-want to face her.”

“That’s alright” you put a hand on his cheek, offering him a side-smile. “We can get something from Mr Delmar and eat in a rooftop. If you promise not to drop me”

Peter let out a sad laugh and nodded shortly, still not meeting your eyes. Another tear rolled down his cheek, and you got on your tip toes to kiss it away.

Because of being shorter than him, you didn’t really get to the tear, yet placed your lips awfully close to him. Actually, and if someone asked him, it was on his lips. You caught the tear with the corner of your mouth, and felt his chapped lips with the rest of it.

Peter’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open, not fully understanding what had happened. He tried to say something, but you were faster and you started making stupid excuses about it. With a furious blush, you hit his chest a few times and screamed at Peter that it had not been you fault, that it had been an accident he needed to forget about. Some hurtful words, as ‘I would never kiss you’ or ‘That was disgusting’, left your mouth; both of you knew that you didn’t mean it. Peter shut you up with a kiss on the cheek and gripped your hand, guiding you to where he had left his backpack with the suit.

The whole way, Peter and you had stupid smiles on your faces and fast beating hearts in your chest.

 -

Your fourth kiss didn’t actually happened, or at least not that the two of you remembered. It was late, Friday night and Flash was having the party of his life. Officially, Peter hadn’t been invited, but you had begged to your boyfriend to let him come; and that if he didn’t, you would cut one of his balls. They were good years, or at least they were for you. You were Flash’s girlfriend, and that had allowed you to give Peter an easier life. No more beatings, no more throwing the books to the ground, and no more ‘Penis Parker on your watch.

Besides, Flash was a good guy deep down. He liked to mock Peter because that was the only way to forget about the absence of his parents. His behaviour with you was sweet, caring and kind. But something was missing. As in every relationship or crush you had, something was missing.

That was probably why you ended up sitting by Peter’s side, not Flash, who had an angry pout on his face since the beginning of the game. You were too drunk to notice, and Peter was too drunk to not flirt with you.

“I think that’s enough drinking” Flash muttered. He had been the one daring Peter to drink, and he was regretting his decision. The boy thought he would leave you alone if he was drunk, but even after a bottle of whisky Peter was stuck with you.

“I think…” you raised your arm in the air, demanding silence. Eleven teenagers, who were sitting in your circle, looked at you with expectant eyes. “…it’s time for spin the bottle!”

Your proposal was met with shouts of approval, and you laughed, throwing your head back. You looked at Peter, who was trying to put the bottle on the ground and keep balance. The guy who was sitting on his left, who was as high as the ceiling, pushed him to the side, and he fell on top of you. Instead of apologising, Peter fell into a fit of laughs that made Flash leave angrily, muttering things under his breath.

“I don’t understand why you date him” Peter’s voice was slurry, it was the first time he had alcohol and his spidey senses were making it worse. He heard people around him starting to spin the bottle, but he could only focus on your eyes.

You squeezed them and smiled brightly at him, and he had to restrain himself from cupping your cheeks.

“He’s a good guy” you shrugged. “Besides, it makes him stay away from you.”

“You don’t-You don’t have to do that for me” Peter frowned, not really understanding your words.

“I do it if I want to do it” you stated; in your mind, those words had much more sense. “I like seeing you happy.”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat, his cheeks turning pink. He looked back to the floor, where a girl named Laura was getting rid of her t-shirt as a part of a dare. Some of the teenagers there cheered for her, others just laughed. Peter decided to stay quiet, flying to his own thoughts.

While Peter got lost in his mind, you kept playing to that stupid game. It was that girl turn, and she flickered the bottle. It moved in circles until, slowly, the blue end faced you.

“Truth or dare, Y/N?” Laura asked, propping on her elbows and making her breasts pop out. You knew the deal, you had heard the ‘truths’. They usually asked about who would you fuck in that group or who was the most attractive person.

You liked to think that you didn’t say truth because Flash wasn’t there and you wouldn’t fuck anyone apart from your boyfriend. But, the problem was that you didn’t know if you would be able to lie with that much alcohol in you system.

“Dare” you said out loud, and received some cheers. Until that moment, only Laura and you had chosen dare.

Laura smirked and called two of the boys over her side, where she whispered something on their ears. While they talked, you put your knees on your chest and looked around. They weren’t a lot of students left, only your group and another twenty, so you decided that it would be your last round. Besides that, Peter looked awfully tired.

“Alright” Laura’s voice startled you, and the boys went back to their places. “Y/N Y/L/N, I dare you to give Peter a shotgun kiss. Of weed.”

Your eyes widened and you gasped, not believing her words. Alcohol was something you had had before, and you knew how to handle it. But drugs, they were a different story. And you didn’t like one bit that the dare included Peter.

“Hey, that’s not fair!” you exclaimed. “Peter-It’s my dare, not his. Why are you putting him in?”

“Y/N-“

“Because we haven’t seen neither of you high!” she laughed. “Come on, is just a small drag.”

“Laura, we are talking about weed.” Peter talked, looking at her with a small frown.

“And? Look, if you don’t want to do it, I can change the dare.”

“Yes! Change it” you smiled.

“Then, Y/N Y/L/N, I dare you to smoke a whole joint by yourself” she looked through her purse until she found what she wanted.  A joint that could be as long as your finger.

“What?!” Peter shouted beside you. “That must be even lethal!”

“Then, do the shotgun kiss” she shrugged. “I don’t care.”

There was no way you were smoking that, and Peter knew it. You had never had drugs, and you didn’t want to end up in the hospital the first time you did. So, you took the joint and lighted it up with some difficulties.

Peter turned his body so that he could face you, and you did the same. Silently, you asked him with your eyes if he was okay with that. If he wasn’t, you were more than ready to take his hand and leave the place. Yet you were both drunk and secretly enjoyed the idea of being close to each other, so he repeated the words you had said to him two times in his life.

“I’m with you, no matter what”

Everyone around you was quiet, and you could hear Peter’s rushed breathing. He was as nervous as you, both of you for the same reason and it was not because of the joint. You gave him a shaky smile before leaning towards him.

Peter Parker had the kind of body-smell that was just nice, and that made you try to sniffle as many time as possible. You had been close to him in many occasions before, yet neither of them got you that nervous. Your eyes travelled from the collar of his t-shirt to his neck, then to his cheeks and finally to his eyes. Had they always been so beautiful, or was it the alcohol?

Breathing through your nose, you took a long drag and put your mouth next to Peter’s. The world seemed to stop.

You felt his breath on your mouth, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. His nose brushed with yours because of the proximity, and he gripped your hand where none of those boys and girls could see them. He ran his tongue across his lips as you finished your drag, putting the joint down. Peter tilted his head a little so that your noses didn’t get in the way, and you opened your mouth when his wet lips touched yours.

A white and dense cloud of smoke travelled between that inexistent space and entered into his mouth, the teenagers cheered when they saw it. But you didn’t hear them. The joint made your head feel on cloud nine, and Peter’s body seemed warmer than ever.

It pained you, but once it was over, you came back to your place. Not knowing if the joint was what caused that strange fuzzy feeling in your chest.

 Your fifth-first kiss was a few years later, the weight of that forgotten touch on the lips hanging from your shoulders since then. The memory of it might had been blurry, but the feeling that rose with it weren’t. For a few months, your relationship was awkward; both of you were stuttering and blushing mess and didn’t know to look at each other to the eye. But you survived that, and Peter became again the little boy who had smashed his mouth to yours in kindergarten, and who had a pair of your favourite bed sheets in his room.

That day you had been there, laying on his bed with your head on your hands and earphones in your ears. A film was playing on his computer while he worked on the webs, wanting to make them stronger and longer. He was so focused on his task that he didn’t notice how a frown made its way to your face. Soft music was playing on the background when you took one of the earbuds and stopped the film.

It made you think.

The princess and the swan was an old movie, a child’s one. You had wanted to remember your childhood and made the bad decision on watching it. Probably, that you were on your period didn’t help the cause.

“Pete?” you called him out.

He was scrunched on his table, books and sheets scattered around it. He had big glasses on his head, and was wearing a wide, old sweater. You almost forgot your question looking at him, at the adorable face you had become accustomed to look at. MJ said it was proper stalking, but you preferred to call it ‘admire’.

“Parker!” you shouted, making him drop the pencil and jump in the chair. Immediately, he turned off the music and looked around, waiting to see May in the door or a curious neighbour on the window. He hadn’t still said to anyone who he really was.

“What? What?” he asked, his eyes finally focusing on you.

“I’ve got a question.”

“Should we appeal the ‘no judgment’ clause of our friendship?”

“Not this time” you chuckled. “It’s a serious one.”

“Okay, shoot” he turned back to his work, thinking it would be another dumb thing. “If it’s about area 51, my answer is still-“

“What do you like about me?”

The room became quiet and Peter slowly turned around, his eyes wide and his mouth hang open. He didn’t expect that question, not at all. Peter Parker had a lot of answers to it, actually, yet he didn’t think he could say out loud any of them.

You were frowning at him, your head tilted to the side. You were wearing his t-shirt from NY,  and a pair of his boxers. An outfit that made his answer a lot more complicated. He sighed and moved the wheeled chair until he was in front of you, his legs crossing.

“What is this coming from?” he looked towards the screen, and rolled his eyes. “I thought we said no Disney films on your period!”

“I know, I know!” you defended yourself. “But I couldn’t help it, it was my favourite movie. And you haven’t answered my question”

“Why do you ask me that?” Peter scratched his chin and pouted slightly.

“Because” you looked to your right. “when Flash and I broke up, you told me I deserved more. When Brad stood me up, you told me the same. When I didn’t get the college I wanted. And when my parents got the divorce!”

“And? It’s-It’s…. something you say. S-Something I said without meaning it” Peter’s words were rushed.

“I know you’re lying, Pete”

When, in the film, Odette asked the prince what he liked about her, he told her she was beautiful; nothing more. You expected Peter to give you the same answer, and you were already angry at him without a reason. That was what usually happened when you spent the night at his house; stupid arguments that solved up with pizza and playing UNO until late night.

Not in a million years would you have expected his answer.

“I like, I like about you that you stand up for yourself. Like, when someone is being unfair, you’re the first one to step up” Peter smiled shyly, blushing; still, he didn’t meet your eyes. “Not a lot of people do that, and certainly not everyone would date an asshat just so that he stop messing with their best friend.”

“Peter” you hit his arm playfully. “Flash was a good kid, just too boring”

Peter rolled his eyes and mumbled an annoyed  ‘whatever’, still not over the fact that you dated him. He coughed softly and fixed his eyes on the floor.

“I-I, you’re… you’re unique. You make me laugh like nobody else, and you have this personality that outshine everyone, in a good way. Funny, outgoing, nerdy and still the most amazing girl someone could dream about” Peter let out a breathy chuckle. “And-And, let’s talk about your face. Like, you have the cutest face! And facial expressions. You, damn, you can make a stone smile.”

Peter kept rambling about how he liked too the way you talked, your perks and a bunch of other things. A faint shadow of pink covered his cheeks all the time, and he messed up with his words sometimes, letting out short apologies. Both of you discovered that Peter Parker could spend hours talking about you and not getting tired.

Suddenly, his meaty hands and chubby cheeks came back to you; Peter kissing you in kindergarten, and you running to your mum that day and telling her you were getting married to the boy in the play yard. His shaky breaths and frightened eyes, and the way he kept thanking you for a month for doing what you did. Peter’s suffering because Ben’s death, your lips on his and he still saying sorry for something he didn’t did. And the boy you thought you loved smoking for the first time weed and getting a huge scolding from Mr Stark just for you.

“… and, besides all of that, I think you’re really pretty” Peter finished just then, finally meeting your eyes. When he saw your shocked face, his smiled dropped. “A pretty friend! What-What did you thought, idiot? I-I…wh-what I like th-the m-most about y-you is that you’re, hm, you’re a r-really good friend.”

Peter finished his sentence with a loud and awkward laugh, as he tried to get away with the wheeling chair. On the other hand, you weren’t willing to let it go. So you gripped the armchair and pulled him closer, until your faces were inches apart.

That time, you were aware of his heart beating in chest, and he was conscious of your ragged breathing. Your noses touched just like that night in the party, and you felt his breath on your mouth.

“I can say a lot of things that I like about you too” you mumbled, moving your eyes between his and his mouth. “I, I think I… well, I just like you. Not as a pretty friend. As, I don’t know, if you want, like a pretty boyfriend?”

Peter’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, not believing your words. Your hands started to shake nervously against the armchair, and you bit your tongue to avoid any tears falling down.

You didn’t want to loose your friendship with Peter, that was more important than any feeling about him. You had enough with those stolen kisses, so why the fuck do you have to say anything, you fucking nuts. When your eyes started to get glossy and your stomach was turning and tossing like crazy, Peter took the initiative and kissed you.

Slowly, he tangled his fingers into your hair, making you move forwards and kiss him back. Your lips quivered into a happy smile as his moved over yours. It was soft, it was lovely and it was perfect. When you teared apart, neither of you moved from your spot, just stared at each other with stupid smiles.

“I would like you to be my pretty girlfriend too” he muttered against your lips, his own touching them with every word.

“I would like that too” you kissed his lips quickly, as he moved his hands and cupped your cheeks. “But, are you-“

“I’m with you, no matter what”

With that, you shared your second (or sixth) kiss.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tags:

@delicately-important-trash​

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman one shot #spiderman x reader #imaginemai #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers one shot #avengers x reader

[quizmeghan]

#24

Layers Layer 1: The Basics

Name: meghan Age: 28 Birthday: 16/2 Gender: f Zodiac Sign: aquarius

Layer 2: Your Family

Do you have any brothers or sisters? a sister Do you have any pets? a cat Do you still live with your parents? yeah Do you have any stepparents? nope How many cousins do you have? 6

Layer 3: Your Friends

Who is your best friend? 3 from high school Who have you been friends with the longest? r What do you like to do with your friends? eating, cinema, drinking. i miss it all! Do you have more friends online or in real life? real life What is a good way to make friends with others? i don’t really know

Layer 4: Your Home

Do you live in a home, apartment, duplex, trailer, etc? house How many rooms are there in your house? 4 bedrooms Is your home large or small? i suppose it’s big for the uk? you could probably fit all the bedrooms into one american bedroom though. What is your favorite room in your house, and why? the living room because it’s where i relax. usually i’d say my room, but i work there now lol. Do you prefer having people over to your house, or would you rather go to theirs? going to others

Layer 5: Can You

Can you fold your tongue into the taco shape? yeah! Can you touch your toes without bending your knees? i could but i would hate it Can you tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue? yep Can you hold up your end of a physical fight? i’ve never been in one but i have lots of bottled rage so if i needed to i could tap into that. i don’t like confrontation though so the fight would be over before i even knew it had begun, tbh. Can you do any yo-yo tricks? nope

Layer 6: Who

Who inspires you the most, and why? my mum, she’s super strong Who helps you maintain your sanity? my friends? the internet? Who do you go to most often for advice? my mum probably Who knows you better than you know yourself? again, my mum Who is someone that you would die or put your life on the line for, no questions asked? friends and family

Layer 7: Do you

Do you still eat sandwiches without the crusts? not really Do you typically finish your meal at a restaurant, or need to take a container home? mostly, and unless it’s an almost full meal (which, if you know me, is never), then no i wouldn’t take it home Do you pull an Oreo apart in order to eat it? depends how i feel Do you read a lot of gossip magazines? nah Do you make friends easily? no, i’m too socially awkward and shy. like, shyness used to literally paralyse me, and it still sometimes can

Layer 8: How Many?

How many people live in your house with you? 3 others plus cat How many pets have you had in your lifetime? it’s a bit of a joke in our family but our cat is currently pet #28, and that’s only in my lifetime How many tries does it take you to become successful at something? i don’t really know How many meals do you eat a day? usually 2 meals, sometimes i have breakfast too. i eat a load of shite in between though lol How many people can you honestly tolerate? not a lot. socialising really exhausts me

Layer 9: How

How do you typically get to school or work? pre-covid, work used to be by bus. now i’m on placement it’s walking How do you deal with a breakup? ngl, i’ve never had one. How do you like to help others? i just try and be there or offer help literally every two seconds. probably to the point of annoyance How do you know when you’ve found “the one”? tf if i know How do you sleep in bed? i start off on my front with one leg propped on a pillow and another pillow behind my back but when i’m sleeping i constantly toss and turn 

Layer 10: What

What do you think happens when we die? i think it’s a nice thought to think that you learn everything. What do you do if there’s no toilet paper left on the roll and you’re already peeing? shout someone to bring me some What do you eat most often? crisps What toys did you enjoy most as a child? i played with barbie’s a lot i suppose, but i looooved my rollerskates, scooters, bikes, all that stuff What do you do if you witness someone being awful to someone else? i’ve never really witnessed it. once in work customers got into a row and i ran to deal with it but they were done and out of the building before i got there.

Layer 11: Where

Where is your favorite place to eat out? i like wagas, amore, zizzis, fuck at this point i miss spoons Where is the place that has the best ice cream in your area? loop n scoop, although their nutella churos are where it’s at Where did you meet your current or last significant other? n/a Where can you be found at 7 PM. typically? in my room doing uni work or watching netflix Where can you find the best French fries? everywhere is shit for them here, mcdonalds maybe? that’s where the bar is set

Layer 12: When

When did you find out the truth about Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy? i was in p5 with santa, so pretty late lol, the easter bunny was my parents straight-up telling me one morning when i went into their room to tell them the easter bunny hadn’t been. i’d forgotten about that haha When do you typically fall asleep? ooft, recently it’s been like 1-2am, i’ll need to sort that before placement When was the last time that someone paid you a compliment? not sure When do you feel most comfortable? on my own, watching shows When did you last go to the bathroom? maybe about an hour ago

Layer 13: Why

Why do you enjoy taking surveys so much? i just like answering questions Why do people gossip so much? not a clue, it’s beyond me Why can’t humans fly? it’s an outrage at this point, really Why aren’t you doing something else right now? lockdown is very boring, plus i finished my essay (woo!) Why is the sky blue? reflection of the water. i don’t think that’s right, but it sounds smart haha

Layer 14: If…

If you had a million dollars, what would you spend it on? a holiday, a house, a car, pay my parents mortgage If you found out someone was cheating on you, would you ever take them back? never If you found a wallet with cash in the street, including identification, would you turn it in? Why or why not? yeah i would, i’d feel too guilty If you could have any food right now, what would you like?   a wagas omg i’ve been craving for months now If you found out that the world was going to end tomorrow, how would you spend your last day? outside with my pals, fuck covid

Layer 15: Firsts

When did you lose your first tooth? idk? Who was your first teacher that you ever had? miss miller and she was FAB When did you first learn how to ride a bike? age 3 or 4 maybe? probably earlier than that knowing me Did your first birthday have a theme to it? no cos it was the 90′s and no one went overboard like they do these days

Layer 16: Lasts

Last person you texted: my sister Last drink you sipped: diet bru Last time you rode a bike: years ago now Last time you swam in a pool: years again Last person you hugged: fuck knows, i’ve not hugged anyone for over a year now. it was probs one of my friends

Layer 17: Favorites

Favorite Color: purple Favorite Season: autumn Favorite Shape: i quite like a circle or a triangle? i’ve never thought about that before Favorite Letter: again, haven’t thought about this either... A? Favorite Number: i like 7 and 11, not sure why

Layer 18: This or That

Pepsi or Coke? pepsi Movies or Television? mmm, depends Phone or Tablet? phone Fruits or Vegetables? i probably eat more vegetables tbh Animals or Humans? neither (but animals)

Layer 19: Which

Which Poke’mon is your favorite? i used to love charmander and pikachu. Which day of the week is your favorite? a friday or saturday Which birthday celebration was the most memorable for you? the one where all time low played the day before my birthday then had an afterparty, and vegas played me into my birthday at midnight. i don’t remember the age, maybe like 23ish? Which holiday is your favorite? christmas then halloween Which shoe do you put on first? i think my right?

Layer 20: Love Life/Relationships

What is the name of your first love? matt willis from busted don’t @ me How many times can you honestly say you’ve been in love? never Have you ever been in a relationship before that was abusive in any way? no Have you ever been engaged or married before? nope Do you have any children? no thank u

Layer 21: Jobs, Dreams, & Goals

What did you want to be when you grew up (as a little kid)? a singer because who didn’t? What do you aspire to be now? What interests you? a teacher, i’m studying, almost there! What is the most recent goal you’ve achieved? i finished my essay a week before hand-in date, if you know me, that deserves a gold medal What is a goal you are still striving to reach? finishing placement and passing Have you ever won any sort of awards before? If so, for what? daft things like staff member of the month (which was ran for one month, smh), awards in school and stuff. nothing big

Layer 22: Opinions & Beliefs

Pro-life or pro-choice? pro-choice! Were you raised with any sort of religious background? If so, then what? no, my mum is catholic and my dad isn’t, and when i was born they decided not to choose my religion for me, and that they would allow me to choose when i grew up if i wanted. i went to a non-denom primary school so we learned about loads of religions (which always stands out in my memory as being so cool), and then i went to a catholic high school, and have volunteered and taught in catholic schools. my mum always jokes that i’m a catholic via osmosis lol. Democrat, Republican, or Independent? i ain’t american so this is confusing For or against the death penalty? honestly, against Thoughts on assisted suicide? i think i’m for it, although i don’t know enough about it

Layer 23: Currently/Today/Present

What day is it? 7th march What’s the weather like outside? raining and 6 degrees, standard What have you eaten? i had steak pie and mash for dinner a few hours ago Did you run any errands? not today What time is it? 22:34

Layer 24: Yesterday

Did you have a work shift? no one has work shifts hahahahahahahaha (help) Did you eat out anywhere? no one’s doing that either Was it snowing? no the snow left a few weeks ago Who did you last say goodnight to? my sister i think? Did anything unusual happen? nope

Layer 25: Tomorrow

Do you have to go to school/class? i have some zoom lectures tomorrow, yeah Does this day have any sort of significance to you? nope What is a chore that needs to get done? nothing Will you hang out with friends? nooooo What time will you be expected to be awake by? 9′s the aim. i haven’t actually checked my class time so it may be earlier than that. pray for me

Layer 26: Have You Ever

Performed a magic trick successfully? yes Sat or laid on a rooftop and looked at the stars? noooo you can’t really see the stars where we are Walked around with your underwear on inside out or backwards all day without realizing it? not underwear, but i once wore my leggings inside out travelling to work and had to change them when i got there. thankfully they look the exact same inside out as they do the right way round lol Touched a snake? yah! Been bitten by an animal? If so, what animal? my cat cos he’s an asshole, but never seriously

Layer 27: School Life

Are preschool and kindergarten mandatory where you live? they’re not mandatory but nursery placements are up to 30(??? - this may be incorrect) hours free from the scottish government for everyone aged 3 plus vulnerable 2′s, so you might as well take advantage of it Were you or anyone you knew homeschooled? nope Did you attend public or private school? ...i never know the difference because are they different in america? public in our sense anyway haha Were you bullied in school, popular, or somewhere in-between? i was bullied. in primary by people who were my friends, in early secondary by idiots, and by late secondary by people who used to be my friends What is the highest level of education that you completed? i have a ba honours and i’m studying for a post-grad just now

Layer 28: Your Appearance

Eye Color: brown Hair Color: also brown Height: 5′2 Weight: last time i was weight it was 69kg but i can GUARANTEE i’ve put on weight Do you have freckles. moles, beauty marks, or birthmarks - and where? some freckles on my face and arms, one on my hip which is my fave thing, a few small freckle-like moles on my neck, no beauty or birth marks

Layer 29: Electronics, Internet, & Social Media

How much time do you spend on the internet per day? literally almost all my waking day Which social media platforms do you belong to? insta, fb, twitter, tumblr, snapchat... mostly use insta When’s the last time you replaced the batteries in your television remote? i don’t think we’ve had to yet Are you more likely to stream movies and shows on your laptop, or cast them to your television? tv when i can but i use my laptop or ipad when i’m in my room Do you have an e-reader, or do you prefer actual books? i do have a kindle but i’ve not used it in years

Layer 30: Are You

Are you still in school? in uni just now Are you a member of the LGBTQ+ community? i’m not Are you looking forward to anything coming soon? hopefully the end of covid, but let’s face it, that’ll only happen if folk STAY HOME (lookin’ at you, rangers fans) Are you dreading anything coming soon? only a little, but my placement starts next week and that’s always daunting Are you gullible or naive? i can be!

Layer 31: Does

Does your workplace make you feel like you can never take a day off without feeling guilty about it? ...yep, this is one thing i will not miss post-covid lol Does someone currently hold the key to your heart? me Does anyone out there hate you? i’ve never given anyone a reason to, but i imagine there are Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? it can do sometimes Does crying make you feel less strong? ehh, sometimes? it’s hard to tell though because i literally cry at everything

Layer 32: Would You

Do the Polar Bear Plunge? i don’t know what this is but the answer is probably no Ever try to walk across a room blindfolded? you mean like the birdbox challenge? also no. although i have played blind man’s bluff when i was younger (it’s probably not called that now though) Swim with sharks? NEVER Go into outer space, given the chance? nooooo Go out in public, looking how you do right now? ahahaha, no, i’m in shorts and a hoodie

Layer 33: Pets/Animals

Do you have any pets? If so, what type, and their names… a cat called smokey If not, what type of pet have you always wanted? n/a What is your favorite animal? i love a giraffe Do you think it is cruel to have circus animals? yeah How often do you walk your dog, if you have one? How often do you scoop the litterbox, if you have a cat? we don’t have to change the litterbox cos he’s an outdoor cat

Layer 34: Food

What is your favorite breakfast item? i need to be in the mood to eat breakfast, but i quite like scrambled or poached eggs (again if i’m in the mood to eat egg, cos sometimes the smell of egg can be off-putting) What is your favorite kind of dessert? i like cheesecake Do you eat all three meals everyday? usually lunch and dinner, sometimes i have breakfast What’s the longest you’ve gone without food? due to surgeries or being sick maybe a couple days, but never because i’ve been out of food, which i realise is incredibly lucky What do you like to eat when you are feeling sick? literally nothing, who can eat when they feel sick? once i start to feel better i start with a slice of toast with the smallest scraping of marg on it then work up to half a tin of tomato soup

Layer 35: Past

Does your past ever come back to haunt you at times? not that i can think of What is one of your favorite memories of the past? literally anything pre-covid at this point What is something that you used to do in the past, but no longer do? go OUTSIDE If you could have a meal with someone from the past, who would it be, and what would you ask them? my gran, just to catch up on the last 14 years Which historical time period would you like to go back to and check out? ohh, i quite like the idea of visiting like, ww1/ww2?

Layer 36: Future

Do you think you will ever get married one day? i’ve always said i wouldn’t get married, but i could probably be talked into getting married. but my only condition would be that we get married IN SECRET then just have a party for friends and family when it’s done. Do you plan on ever getting a different job in the future, or are you happy with the one you’ve got? i’m studying to become a teacher, so fingers crossed by august i’ll be in my dream job What age do you plan to retire at? Or do you plan on working til you’re dead? with the way the retirement age is rising i’ll work myself into a grave haha What is something on your bucket list worth mentioning? uh, idk man, i used to have a load of meaningless shit there, probably just travelling If given the opportunity to see how your future plays out, would you take it, or no? no cos then you’d constantly be worrying about it, or wondering ‘if i make this decision today, will this affect the future?’ like nah who’s got time for that?

Layer 37: Hygiene

How often do you shower? every day mostly, try to wash my hair every second or third day How often do you brush your teeth? twice a day mostly, but always once daily Do you actually iron any of your clothes? only if it needs done or if i’m going somewhere that it matters, like school haha How often do you do laundry? it all gets lumped in together and done daily How long do you use a bath towel before switching it out? ....what is this, are there folk who reuse bath towels?

Layer 38: Clothing, Makeup, & Style

Do you wear nail polish? If so, how often do you paint your nails? i usually get shellac done, either at the salon or i do my own. depends really, but usually every 6-ish weeks How would your describe your sense of style? comfort and casual, unless it’s for school then it’s smart-casual Are there any popular trends that you do not find appealing? cropped everything or cycle shorts and trainers as a night out outfit (???) Where do you typically buy your clothing from? new look, dorothy perkins, primark What sorts of accessories do you wear/use? always earrings, sometimes a necklace/watch/bracelet/rings

Layer 39: Hobbies

Do you still color, even as an adult? yah yah i have a disney colouring book that’s amazing, but i’ve not used it in a while Do you/would you like to crochet, knit, cross-stitch, etc? i don’t have the patience for that. weird that i have it for colouring right enough What’s the last thing you crafted all by yourself? i made a very hungry caterpillar for uni a few months ago Do you use Pinterest at all? i do have it but don’t use it now. might have to create a new one for school though What’s the last thing that you cooked or baked? i cooked dinner a couple nights ago

Layer 40: Dislikes

List some of your pet peeves here. chewing with your mouth open who RAISED you people? What are some things that annoy you about yourself? how long you got? Is there anyone out there who you actually hate? Who? y e s What is a feeling that you dislike? feeling sick, i cannot cope with feeling sick Do you get some ugly road rage while driving? sometimes i can get frustrated but nothing like i’ve seen others like

Layer 41: Random

Have you ever successfully pogo’ed on a pogo stick? yesss, used to love my pogo stick Have you ever mastered the jump rope? i used to be quite good when i was younger, nothing fancy though Do you know what it feels like to be truly happy? i think so? Is it winter in your part of the world right now? yes yes What’s your favorite type of survey, and why? i don’t think i have a favourite? sometimes this or that ones can be good

Layer 42: Music

What are some of your favorite genres of music? pop punk mostly, i like a bit of pop too What are some music genres that you can’t stand? COUNTRY If you had a blank pair of concert tickets, who would you hope to be going to see? all time low, 5sos or mcfly, as those were concerts that have all been postponed for me, wahhhh Do you still listen to music on the radio from time to time? i only really listen to the radio in the car on short journeys iTunes, Spotify, Pandora, Amazon Music, or YouTube? apple music

Layer 43: Books

What were some of your favorite books as a child? i liked jacqueline wilson books. obviously harry potter books What genre of books do you typically read most often? mostly crime thriller or young adult and there’s literally nothing in between What are some of your favorite books as an adult? hp, karen rose or tess gerritsen books are quite good, divergent books were also alright What is a book that you were required to read for school that you actually enjoyed? none, i HATED english. we also only done plays or poems, we didn’t do novels. talk about teaching to the test lol Do you read any newspapers or magazines anymore? i haven’t read magazines since i was a teen, or newspapers either because we were forced to read broadsheets in english.

Layer 43: Around the World

Where’s the best place you’ve taken a vacation and/or day trip to? DISNEYWORLD Where is somewhere that you’d like to go someday, assuming you have the funds to do so? literally disneyworld again, i don’t even care, i would move there Where do your family members originate from? we’re all scottish, ancestors at some point are irish What is your favorite type of cuisine? italian probably What is something that is typically representative of your own culture? irn bru, bagpipes, ginger hair, kilts, haggis, and ceilidhs..... that’s a very stereotypical answer

Layer 44: Would you Rather…

Drink apple juice or grape juice? apple Wear pants or shorts? shorts for comfies (indoor), jeans for comfies (outdoor) Be taller or shorter? taller Go to a zoo or an aquarium? zoo Visit an art gallery or a museum? museum

Layer 45: Movies

Do you remember what the first movie was that you saw in theaters? i don’t remember seeing it, but i know it was disney’s 101 dalmatians What are some of your favorite movies you’ve seen? this is a bad question for me cos i like loads of movies. we recently watched all the divergent’s so they popped into my head. i also love easy a. harry potter if that wasn’t obvious. mcu movies. i like a lot of films haha What genre of movie do you typically enjoy? i like some superhero, comedies usually, some horror/thriller, romcoms if i’m in the mood, although i’ve been known to watch movies for certain actors, so... What is a movie you’ve seen that you weren’t expecting to like, but were pleasantly surprised? i was forced to watch the new star wars movies (i will not watch the old ones), and i actually quite enjoyed those How many movies do you own? Are they all DVD’s, or do you still have some VHS ones left? i have loads of dvd’s but they’re all in the garage now that i have netflix and disney+ haha

Layer 46: Personality

Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? introvert Are you more easygoing and laid back, or anal? really, i think i’m pretty anal about certain things and the opposite with others. also depends on the day you get me, but mostly i’d say anal Are you kind to everyone who shows that they deserve kindness? i’m kind to everyone. unless you approach me in a club then you can gtfo Describe your sense of humor. it’s dark and it’s self-depreciating and it’s brilliant Do you tend to over-share? sometimes?

Layer 47: Celebrities

Which celebrity has given their child the most unique name, in your opinion? by unique i assume you mean stupid, and if the answer isn’t elon musk i- Are there any celebrities that you keep tabs on/read articles about often? alex gaskarth or anything atl related really, sometimes dylan o’brien. really if i hear something about someone i just look it up Who is/are your celebrity crush(es)? alex gaskarth or dylan o’brien Have you ever personally met someone famous before? If so, then who? all time low, james mcavoy, frankie boyle, limmy Who is a celebrity that you’re getting tired of hearing about all the time? meghan markle

Layer 48: Emotions

When was the last time you cried? this morning at the credits of a movie that i did not watch. see what i mean about crying at everything? What are some things that you’re afraid of? sharks, oceans, fire, clowns, losing parents What is something small that makes you happy? not setting an alarm Who is the last person that you were angry with, and about what? um, rangers fans for breaking covid restrictions lol. this is what my life is now Are you typically a shy or outgoing person? shy shy shy remember the crippling shyness?

Layer 49: Digging Deeper

What is your favorite alcoholic beverage? gin and lemonade, vodka soda lime, or a small amount of fruit cider How old were you when you got drunk for the first time? 16 Do you smoke? noooo Have you ever taken and sent naked pictures of yourself? yeah Have you ever done any drugs other than marijuana? If so, which ones? naw

Layer 50: Games

What are some of your favorite video games? i don’t really play video games Do you have any computer games that you play regularly? nope What was your favorite board game, growing up? i liked cluedo, and also i had a harry potter version of cleudo which was brilliant and so much better How about your favorite card game? i only know switch and go fish haha How good are you at solving puzzles? (such as a Rubik’s cube, word puzzles, or putting together a jigsaw puzzle) jigsaws are okay but sometimes i get bored, anything else i’m rubbish at

[ohsh1t2wksl8]

#24 #quiz #survey #source:tumblr

[sheepdogjim-blog]

Good dog/bad dog

Holy crap it’s Friday and I’m sitting at home in front of the fire, coffee in hand and psycho dog at feet (Yes Dad, I still have job). Looks like we survived another 1/52th of our orbit around a slightly cooler yellow ball of life in the sky and we’ll get to fight the ‘rona for at least another day.

That is if the four legged spawn of Satan doesn’t try to kill us today.

I figured I might use my words today to give ya’ll an update on the fur monsters progress since the last time there was a trip to the Emergency room for any one of the residents at Furlong HQ.

So Lenz, and we have not started calling him Lennie yet because at this point it’d be like refering to Harvey Weinstien as “my cuddly uncle”, has began his transformation from working animal to pet. He no longer sleeps in a locked crate,  or spends his days in his outdoor kennel. Nope, now he sleeps spread out in the middle of our king sized bed from 9 pm until 4:45 am, regulating Gloria and I to a mere 1.5’ x 6.5’ slice of diametrically opposed real estate on either side of the bed. Every evening it’s a game to see what letter our sleeping pattern will be, H, N, Z, I, etc. as Lenz determines the path forward, because he generally goes to sleep first, and then there’s just no moving him. Not that you’d want to.

Remember how it took 4 months for us to actually see him sleep? When this ct decides its nighty nighty, you let him go. You don’t wake the nuclear reactor if you plan on getting any sleep yourself. We’ve also toyed with the idea of getting rid of our alarm clock radio because Lenz’s internal clock keeps much better time, and at 4:59 am he’s wide awake (but you’d never know because he’s in K9 stealth mode) until the first notes of whatever music 103.9 is playing at the moment. At that exact moment my body has been trained to fly quickly into a fetal position as Lenz leaps from a low sitting position over me to the floor on the other side of the room in one motion, and if there’s a body part under his hind legs when he launches, there will be curse words and A535 in the immediate aftermath. Obviously 8 months out of training hasn’t unconditioned his agility and strength, but more about that later.

So regardless of the day of week we head downstairs and have our coffee, and by our coffee I truly mean our coffee because Lenz has developed a taste for breakfast blend, and every time I forget to hold my cup in my hand when I get up to do something, I come back to find his barkness standing over the cup with his 12 inch tongue rapidly darting in and out of the cup consuming my morning joe, all the while looking at me with those big brown eyes as to say “don’t judge me”. He also has developed a taste for expensive scotch, but I’ve learned to drink the 14-year and older malts out of a sippy cup to avoid any more embossing apologies to the neighbors, and the trauma to their cat.

Speaking of chasing tail, Lenz unlike his predecessor Ozzy, is not a ladies’ man. Lenz refers to terrorize the members of the female persuasion, mostly by going into full K9 mode when they come visit. No before ya’ll start going all #metoo, there’s a theme. It started with a visit by our realtor who was wearing a long puffy coat, and when she came in to get our signatures on some papers one evening, Lenz went full K9 on her. Keep in mind the ‘rona has prevented us from fully socializing him yet, as we have had hardly anyone at our house since our dark overlords imposed dracoian lockdowns in the name of safety on us (idiots). So any time anyone informs us they are coming over, I keep him on a short leash until he gets a chance to get comfortable with a stranger in his home (and believe me, it’s his home now). So back to our poor realtor who is now standing in our kitchen with a 70lb mouth of teeth gnashing at 100 clamps per hour between full barks and lunges, and I can see her eyes (they are the size of dinner plates) darting between the great white shark teeth and the thin nylon fabric of his walking leash, I imagine praying that the leash holds (Note: he’s gone through 3 so far). He doesn’t normally respond that way to visitors, and it wasn’t until our masseuse came over one evening wearing a puffy jacket that I figured it out.

He sees them as bite suits.

I guess you can take the dog out of the RCMP, but you can’t take the RCMP out of the dog. (Ed. Note – that would explain his love of coffee, scotch, and general distrust of people).

He and Gloria seem to be getting along better, the references to “your f-ing dog” have declined, and I’m no longer allowed to lock him in his crate at night, so that means they’ve bonded somewhat, although the cheeky little bastard as smart as he is doesn’t seem to get that if you keep chewing her favorite slippers, your longevity within the circle of trust will always be tenous at best. Yesterday he ate her favorite Roots slippers.

They still aren’t speaking as of this morning.

Actually he’s been getting less destructive as we find ways to engage him to keep his boredom down, but last month there was the pergola incident. In our backyard we had an aluminum pergola over our dining table that over the winter had the screws loosen a bit that gave it a bit of a lean, so much so we tied two ropes to it one night after a wind storm as I wanted to get some plates made to reinforce the attachment points, and had to go to work. I figured I’d fix it that evening when I got home. When I arrived home that evening there was twist aluminum everywhere the pergola used to be.

Apparently Lenz kept untying the ropes for fun, and Gloria kept re-tying them, up until the point Lenz finally got bored with the game and used the two ropes, once he untied them again, to pull the pergola down, and then quartered it. There was aluminum everywhere, it was a scene directly out of Dr. Detroit (you know the one in the junkyard).

So I guess now we need a new pergola built.

Don’t get me wrong, he has his good points. He’s the cuddliest German shepherd of all times, he loves to spoon and will literally pay on top of you and fall asleep. He eats all leftovers, so there’s not much to go in the compost bin, and he’s the best security system in the world, because if you break into our house you will be the one calling 9-1-1, and that’s if you have it on speed dial. He is one protective MF, especially of Gloria.

All kidding aside, he’s turning into an amazing dog, he’s cute and cuddly on the outside and hype vigilant and protective on the inside, and he’s making progress to civilian life after leaving the force last summer, so there’s hope for getting him to a normal life as a pet. Mind you I’ve been out 13 years and I still struggle at times, but at least he and I can relate (usually over a scotch) and he’s a great listener, and as long as I can keep Gloria in slippers I think he’ll be around awhile. At least until the new pergolas built anyway.  

Have Friday folks, be kind to one another, or I’m sending Lenz over for a visit.

Jim out.

#houndsofhell satanspet WTFwasIthinking

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine (d.s.) - Chapter Two

A/N you guys have all been so nice to me over this past weekend. I was really hesitant about posting my writing but you are making it feel so worth it! I can’t say thank you enough :) 

Monday, September 2nd, 2019

Florence didn’t speak to Daniel all week. She was on edge about their argument and felt it necessary to ignore his texts and calls until she calmed down. ‘Until he calmed down’ in her books.

She had to face him on Monday, as she was expected over at the boys’ house for their housewarming lunch as the final day of summer before school started. Michael and Luke made Aidan invite Florence to keep her busy; as he didn’t necessarily want to. Aidan and Florence acted like step-siblings. Civil but not close. It was difficult ever since Aidan and her brother broke up at the end of high school; Florence being a constant reminder of his ex and Aidan being a constant reminder of her brother who was so far away.

Even still, the other boys wanted to see her too. Neither Florence nor Daniel wanted to mention about their argument to their friends so they hesitantly agreed to lunch.

Corbyn answered the door when Florence arrived, his wide smile on display. He hugged her tightly and helped her inside. The boys were sitting around the main floor, Jonah cooking up lunch - or attempting to - with Aidan and Jack at the breakfast bar. Daniel and Zach were sat just past them in the living room, Daniel leaning back on the couch with his guitar in his hands. When Florence walked in, they made brief eye contact before quickly looking away.

The other boys greeted her happily as Corbyn scooped up Clementine from the stroller.

“What’s for lunch, Jo?” Florence asked, joining Jack and Aidan at the island.

“I’m attempting homemade macaroni and cheese.” Jonah answered.

“Attempting being the important word there.” Aidan added through a smile.

“Does Miss Clementine like macaroni and cheese?” Corbyn asked, bouncing the baby lightly on his hip. Clementine frowned at him.

“She’s never had it.” Florence said.

“Well you’re in for a treat.” Jonah chuckled as he took some plates from the cupboard and set them on the counter. Corbyn left little kisses to the baby’s cheek. She whined and tried to wiggle from his grasp.

“Little orange is in a grumpy mood today.” Jack stated.

“She is.” Florence sighed.

“I think she needs some Jack in her life.” Jack held out his arms and Corbyn sat her on his lap. That lasted a good few seconds before the baby broke into tears.

“Here, Clem.” Jonah held out a single piece of macaroni on a spoon towards her. “Cooled to baby perfection.”

Clementine turned away from him, struggling greatly in Jack’s arms.

“She probably wants Daniel.” Corbyn chuckled.

“She’s fine.” Florence answered dryly, taking her daughter from Jack’s arms before laying her in her own.

The boys, slightly confused by her response, all looked to Daniel who was staring back. He simply shrugged and plucked a few more chords on his guitar.

“Anyway,” Jonah cleared his throat, “lunch is ready.”

“Hope we don’t get poisoned.” Zach jumped up from the couch to grab a plate. They all migrated to sit around the dining room table, Clementine still making a fuss in her mother’s arms. Chatter rose between the group, Daniel and Florence more quiet than usual, they sat on opposite sides of the table.

“Hey, Clemmy, why are you so sad today?” Zach leaned over and ran the back of his index finger over her cheek. The eight-month-old simply wailed in response.

“Why even try?” Aidan laughed. “She never liked you in the first place.”

Zach frowned and sat back, shovelling a forkful of macaroni into his mouth.

“She likes you just fine, Zach.” Florence chuckled. “No one is in her good books today.”

“Daniel can calm her down.” Jonah stated.

A silence fell over the group, except for the baby’s cries.

“This is kind of awkward.” Jack mumbled into his lunch. The boys looked between the two who were usually inseparable. Both were focussed on their lunches as if nothing was going on.

“What’s with you two?” Corbyn asked slowly.

“Nothing.” They both answered at the same time.

“Likely story.” Aidan scoffed.

Clementine screamed loudly, trying to push herself out of Florence’s tight hold.

“I don’t care if you two aren’t talking,” Zach stood up, “but I’m getting a headache.” he grabbed the baby from Florence’s arms and walked her to the other side of the room, plopping her onto Daniel’s lap before sitting back in his spot. Daniel instinctively pulled the baby close, gently resting her head against his body and rubbing her back with his free hand. Silence soon fell.

“Hallelujah.” Aidan shook his head.

“She needs a nap.” Florence mumbled.

“She needed Daniel’s magical powers.” Jonah stated.

“Whatever.” Florence stood up and took her plate to the kitchen, rinsing it and placing it in the dishwasher.

"Hey! How about we give you a tour!" Corbyn smiled, desperately trying to change the subject as he stacked the rest of the dishes in the sink.

“Yeah, sure.” Florence shrugged.

Corbyn grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the stairs.

Florence turned to Aidan who stayed in the kitchen to clean up as the boys herded her up the stairs. He only laughed at her playfully worried gaze.

Daniel followed them, Clementine laid in his arms, silent, heavy blue eyes watching him intently.

"My room first!" Zach called, turning down the second floor hallway to continue up to the loft.

"Our room." Jack grabbed the back of Zach's shirt and pulled him down the stairs, making the youngest boy stumble.

"Guys!" Jonah scolded, putting a protective hand between their play fighting and the baby in Daniel's arms.

Zach and Jack's room was a shocking divide between messy and clean. Jack prided himself on the ease of organization on his side of the room, the spotless surfaces and neatly hung up clothing. His wide array of skateboards hung on his wall above his bed and his few too many hair products were grouped on the corner of his dresser. Zach's side of the loft was almost the complete opposite. Boxes were still thrown around and the clothing that had made it out of the boxes were haphazardly hung in his closet and his dresser drawers could hardly close from how much stuff was jammed into them. Jack insisted that they were to get a curtain to separate their spaces so he wouldn't "be kept up at night by the mess that is Zach's life". Regardless, the two were the best of friends so it only made sense that they were to share the biggest space of the house.

Corbyn and Aidan shared what would normally be the master bedroom on the second floor. As the second biggest bedroom, it was only fair that it was split. The bay window overlooked the tree lined street and brought gorgeous natural light into the room. The two were still unpacking but it was already looking like Aidan's room back home at the Clifford's. Florence had seen quite a bit of it when she was living there. Sporty and a bit messy, it was the classic teenage boy's room. Corbyn's outer space and planet posters and various pairs of shoes contrasted to Aidan’s sports jerseys and were the things that separated the two of them.

Jonah had the room next door. He was the oldest and his room reflected that greatly, from the school supplies laid out in a row on the desk to the calendar taped to the wall. It was clear that he took his studies seriously. On the other hand, the closet was packed full of hoodies and clothing, making the room look messier than it should have been.

Daniel's room was the one directly at the top of the stairs, facing the backyard. Similarly to Jack’s room, every surface was spotless, the blue bedsheets pulled tight and the closet actually able to close completely. His guitar stand was in the corner of his room beside the keyboard and the desk that was under the window. The little basket of baby toys on the shelf caught Florence’s gaze but she turned away, ignoring it. She was still upset with the things Daniel said to her and no amount of special treatment for her daughter would change that.

Daniel looked at her, almost expectantly, his wide eyes trying to get her to speak to him. He rocked Clementine gently in his arms, the baby falling asleep with her fist grasping his green sweater.

“It looks nice, guys.” Florence said plainly. “I should get going.”

“You’re allowed to stay longer if you want.” Corbyn offered from the doorway.

“Clementine needs her nap.” Florence shrugged. She glanced at Daniel and the baby before looking back to Corbyn, her eyes almost asking him to grab her daughter for her.

“Daniel bought a bed for her.” Zach piped up. Daniel’s cheeks flushed pink and he looked to the ground.

Florence held back a smile with a low, “Matt’s expecting me home.”

“Is he even going to be home?” Daniel said it under his breath but she still heard it.

“Fuck you.” Florence spat.

The other boys watched the confrontation with wide eyes.

“If it’s such a burden for you to be around me I don’t know why you even showed up.” Daniel’s sharp words were contrasted by his hurt tone and his gentle movements to pass sleeping Clementine into Jonah’s arms.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have.” Florence pushed past him and stomped down the stairs. She heard four pairs of feet after her and a door slam from upstairs.

“What is going on with you two?” Corbyn gaped as Florence gathered her things.

“He’s being a jerk. Putting his nose where it doesn’t belong.” Florence took the baby from Jonah and buckled her into her stroller.

“Daniel Seavey and ‘being a jerk’ cannot be in the same sentence.” Aidan spoke up from his spot in the kitchen, “It’s literally impossible.”

“I thought so too. Until Friday.” Florence crossed her arms. “Who’s he to tell me how Matt “treats me” and how Matt should act? He doesn’t know anything about our relationship.”

The boys exchanged silent glances.

“Oh, to hell with you all of you too then.” Florence scoffed, noting that their expressions clearly meant they agreed with their friend. She left the house without another word.

~~

Matt hadn’t been home most of the weekend, leaving early for school or work and partying into the night, only coming home in the early hours of the morning to sleep for a little. This meant they saw each other less and less. Distance was apparent between them and the emptiness in Florence’s heart grew deeper with each passing day. Returning home after the surprisingly tiring visit with her friends, Florence tucked Clementine into bed and collapsed onto the couch. Matt had binders and papers scattered over the coffee table and the mess made her cringe. At times like that, she would confide in Callum, her brother; where she knew he would give it to her as it was and not hold back. Her call was sent to voicemail and her pent up emotions made her toss her phone onto the carpet, tears welling in her eyes. It felt like every time she needed her brother he wasn’t available. That was the consequence of living so far apart. They were drifting, and she could feel it. It broke her heart. Callum was her rock and without him, Florence felt like she was falling apart. Of course, she had Clementine and Matt but she never felt like it was enough. It shocked her; Matt was the one she could never seem to let go of and even when he was finally hers, she felt incomplete. Maybe it was because her family was so far away. Her biological other half was so far away.

#daniel seavey #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we #why dont we fanfic #jonah marais #jack avery #corbyn besson #zach herron #why dont we imagine #why dont we edit #daniel seavey imagines #novel #writing #anything but mine #college!wdw

[theslayer-archive]

💘 ellis and cat, sav and rocco, and your pick from our billions of pairings.

I didn’t do a third because I didn’t realise how long this was jfdjsjds sorry

Ellis and Cat

where they first met and how I don’t remember if it was middle or high school, but they met at school when Ellis sat next to Cat in home ec and she got him booted every lesson <3 

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved I don’t think they even really had one? Maybe the time they moved in up until the new years kiss kind of counts but tbh I think they just stumbled into having feelings for one another without realising. 

who fell for who first Ellis for Cat I think? It was mutual deep down but it wasn’t until he kicked things off that she started actually realising she had those feelings. 

where their first date was and what it was like I feel like most of their dates are more low key, funnily enough. Coffee and watching movies and going for walks rather than anything fancy, and it’s a miracle that Cat is okay with that, but with Ellis there’s a sense of relaxation she doesn’t get with other people and their dates reflect that. 

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ) Ellis asked Cat out initially when he was in his boxers bc he was taking a shower after she’d dumped vodka on him. They’d just had a heart to heart after an argument, which is usually the way it goes with them. 

who proposes first Ellis does. 

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away I don’t think they really have a reason to keep it secret? Cat has nobody to tell in the first place and maybe Ellis would have wanted to wait a little after getting back together to tell people about it but I don’t see that lasting long. 

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ) I think you said he proposes in a puddle in Little Italy ksdkfdkk

if they adopt any pets together All of the dogs

who’s more dominant I think it’s fairly equal in different ways? Cat is more forceful but Ellis is definitely the driving force of their relationship. 

where their first kiss was and what it was like On the couch on new years and very confusing. 

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ) I don’t think so, their tastes are too different jsjjasjds. 

how into pda they are Cat’s fairly into it I think? Not like dry humping in the supermarket or anything but hand holding and little touches and public kissing is all fine with her. 

who holds the umbrella when it rains Ellis does. 

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ) Probably the dog park if anywhere. 

who’s more protective Catalina

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ) I feel like they shared a bed fairly early but as we know they didn’t have sex for like a year. 

if they argue about anything They argue about everything. 

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ) Ellis probably? 

who steals whose clothes and how often I don’t think either steal one another clothes. 

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ) I always picture them side by side with her head on his shoulder tbh. 

what their favourite nonsexual activity is I think for Cat it’s just watching movies and hanging with the dogs together. 

how long they stay mad at each other Ten seconds and ten years at the same time. 

what their usual coffee / tea orders are Cat’s is either black coffee or herbal teas, Ellis I feel like has something super sweet and super foamy. 

if they ever have any children together Posie and Leo <3

if they have any special pet names for each other Just babe I think. 

if they ever split up and / or get back together I don’t think they will break up again, butt they obviously have before. 

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ) If Cat has anything to say about it, it’ll be quite classy and neat, with little random touches of Ellis here and there that she hasn’t noticed yet. 

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like lots of fluff and love and time with the Halls <3

what their names are in each other’s phones She just has him as Ellis with a love heart but he probably gave her a name like KitKat or something she’d hate. 

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ) I don’t think they do actually? 

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first Ellis falls asleep first and Cat wakes up first. 

who’s the big spoon / little spoon Ellis is the big spoon. 

who hogs the bathroom Cat does. 

who kills the spiders / takes them outside Cat I think loool. 

Roccos and Savannah

where they first met and how On the streets of New York over a tub of ice cream 

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved legit 2.4 seconds flat 

who fell for who first I think probably Rocco but again only by split seconds. 

where their first date was and what it was like I think it was probably like a super chill pizza date, probably followed by going around an arcade or something like that, just lots of fun. 

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? ) Rocco asked Savannah out at the end of their first date.  

who proposes first Rocco for sure. 

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away They told everyone. 

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? ) Initially I thought it would be a spur of the moment proposal but since they went to shit I think he’d think a bit harder about it and take it really seriously, probably asking her dad for permission. For some reason I’m 99% certain he proposes at the zoo but I have no idea why hdshahsa

if they adopt any pets together I think they definitely do later on, probably at least a dog and a cat. 

who’s more dominant Rocco

where their first kiss was and what it was like Literally just on that sidewalk with the ice cream, something really sweet and fairly innocent.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? ) Oh absolutely. Rocco picks up everything he sees. 

how into pda they are Rocco is super into it, he wants to have his arm around her constantly. 

who holds the umbrella when it rains Savannah has to because Rocco gestures a lot and they end up soaked. 

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable ) Somewhere quite active? Maybe Laser Tag.

who’s more protective Idk if either is but at a push, Savannah

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ ) The day they met

if they argue about anything They argue when they misunderstand each other more than anything. I feel like when they know each other better, they’ll argue super rarely but for now they keep missing one another. 

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. ) I don’t think either are the type to excessively mark but probably Rocco

who steals whose clothes and how often Savannah steals Rocco’s

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? ) Definitely spooning

what their favourite nonsexual activity is For Rocco I want to say it’s ordering takeout together tbh

how long they stay mad at each other Not long at all, I don’t think either really get that mad at one another they’re both just awkward. 

what their usual coffee / tea orders are They feel like hot chocolate people to me. 

if they ever have any children together I definitely think they do. 

if they have any special pet names for each other Eventually I can definitely see this but I haven’t found it yet. 

if they ever split up and / or get back together They dont officially split up bu they need to get back together. 

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? ) Messy and chaotic and full of bright colours, it absolutely has the lived in look. 

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like When they eventually have one I feel like they’ll get up super later, eat leftover Pizza for breakfast, open gifts and then spend the day playing dumb games. 

what their names are in each other’s phones Rocco has her saved as the ginger princess emoji with a purple love heart

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? ) Again, they will eventually but it’s too early in their relationship to be established. 

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first I think Savannah to both is most likely

who’s the big spoon / little spoon Rocco is the big spoon who wishes he was a little spoon. 

who hogs the bathroom Rocco

who kills the spiders / takes them outside Savannah

#ellis x catalina #rocco x savannah #taronegertcn

[daffodilsssss]

The Last Thing I Do

Summary:  Yeri loves Joy, Lucas loves being loved and Mark loves his life just the way it is right now.

But nothing can ever stay the same forever. So if you had to choose, would you rather risk everything you thought you needed, to try all the things you never thought you would be able to do? Would you try to do something you never thought was possible?

A/N: Hey so this is my first fancfiction. Cross posted on AO3 (this is my backup basically). Trying to post weekly but don’t hold me to it. 

AO3

Chapter index:

Chapter 1

Summer in New York is different. It’s just different from anywhere else on Earth.  

I mean, that’s a bit of an obvious observation. Literally no two places are exactly the same, and New York is definitely one of the most unique places in the world no matter the weather. But there is a certain beauty in the oppressive humidity summer brings. The world becomes weightier, people move slower, time seems to congeal, and moments last much longer than they should. Summer is the season of innocence, of childhood, of beach parties and bonfires. The heat feels live a warm hug from a parent, or an arm thrown over your mid-section as you lie, now awake in bed.

Yeri stares at the slanting light filtering in through the blinds as Joy softly snores beside her ear. These were the moments she wished could go on forever. Just her and Joy, blissfully co-existing. No responsibilities, no past, no future, just the perfect now.

She could hear shuffling and chatter in the hallway now. Laughter and more footsteps in the kitchen before the switch of the radio being turned on and some overplayed Top 40’s hit instantaneously blasting through the apartment.

“Who’s gonna wake them up today?” she heard Seulgi sigh as her spoon clinked against her cereal bowl. Light but trudging footsteps approached the door before a loud knock reverberated off the hardwood.

“Hey, Squirtle, Bigfoot. Get up already!” Wendy shouted through the door.  

Joy’s breathing stilled, before she rolled over on her back groaning. “We’re coming!” She replied. Yeri turned over onto her other side to face her now.

“God, I hate that song.” Joy said, bringing her hands to rub her face as she gradually regained consciousness.  

“Good morning to you too, I guess.”  Yeri lightheartedly snorted.  

“Good morning,” Joy placed a kiss to her cheek. “Sleep well?”

“I always sleep well when I’m with you,” Yeri stood up from the bed. “We should seriously get up now though.” Joy groaned and rolled over onto her side as Yeri opened the blinds fully now, peering down onto the miniature-sized people visible from their penthouse view. “Fine, I’m getting up. You get breakfast I'll be out in a minute.”  Yeri smiled again as she walked into the hallway.

Irene was standing by the coffeemaker scrolling through her phone and Seulgi seemed completely absorbed in her breakfast sitting on the island.  

“Good morning, hags.”

“Good morning problem child.” Irene called back, not looking up from her phone.

“Wendy’s in the shower and me and Irene are next.” Seulgi said through mouthfuls of overpriced Whole-Foods granola.  

“Cool. What’s with the cereal I thought you were starting a diet today?”

“When’s the last time you met a person that got fat off eating muesli?”

“Granola.”

“Muesli, there’s a difference.”

“Granola, and no there’s not.”

“There is, muesli is healthier for you.” Seulgi said through another spoonful of mushy grains.

“Oh! Ok so one is pretentious and one isn’t.”

“Guys, it’s way too early to put whiskey in my coffee right now so could you both do me a solid and shut the hell up for 20 minutes?” Irene said finally looking up from her phone.  

Yeri sat down at the island, grabbing a bowl and Seulgi’s box of cereal. A new song began playing through the room as the door to the bathroom squeaked open and Seulgi scarfed the last of her food before rushing to take her place.  

“Hey,” Wendy said walking through the kitchen still drying her hair. “what’s on the agenda today?”

“Nothing much,” Irene took a sip from her coffee as she leaned over the counter. “Taeyong needs people for a job on Friday but other than that there doesn’t seem to be anything else going on.”  

“Ooh, intriguing,” Wendy half-spoke into the fridge, pulling out a carton of orange juice. “who’s going?”

“Looks like it’s all hands on deck,” Irene hummed, opening the message in question. “Just us and 127.” She explained. “Oh, except for baby.”

Yeri let out some mixture between a groan and a sigh. “Seriously? Why do they keep treating me like a child? I’m 21.  I’m older than Haechan for Christ’s sake.”

“Calm down Sappho,” Wendy deadpanned. “No one treats you like a baby, you’re a hacker. There’s no reason for you to go on these missions.”  

“Who the hell is Sappho?” Yeri raised her eyebrow towards the blonde.  

“She was this famous lesbian poet in Ancient Greece, didn’t you learn about her in school?”

“Well Wendy I don’t know how to break this to you,”  Yeri’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “but I’m actually a high school drop-out.”

Wendy simply shrugged, popping a slice of bread in the toaster. “Fair enough. I could’ve sworn I learned about her in sophomore year though.”

“Aw, looks like your mind’s starting to go grandma.” A high-pitched melodic voice rang out through the hall.

“Oh my God! She’s returned from the grave!” Wendy raised her arms in mock horror as Joy stepped into the room. A now accustomed warmth began forming in Yeri’s stomach as she glanced at the still disheveled Joy, unconsciously tugging her lips upwards at the sight. There were a lot of things that were weird about Yeri and Joy’s relationship, too many to discuss in a single sitting with any therapist. But sometimes it would hit Yeri, at the most random of moments, just how much she really loved her. Like this morning, her long and usually sleek black hair was currently pointing at different angles, and her cheeks were still red and swollen from sleep. But still, Joy made butterflies form in Yeri’s stomach like it was there first-time meeting. (Well, actually maybe not their first-time meeting specifically. As that moment had been tinged with fear and self-hatred. But certainly like butterflies that form in that new, perfect glow of a budding relationship.)

Yeri had never really been in love until she met Joy, but she was almost certain she could never love anyone more than she loved her. Statistically speaking, only a fraction of a fraction of high-school sweethearts stay together in the long run, but that had never fazed her. Statistically speaking, only a fraction of a fraction of all people are involved with an international Korean organized crime syndicate, and yet here they were. Joy was Yeri’s reason to get up in the morning, her reason to go to sleep at night. Of course, she loved the rest of the girls, they were closer and more caring to her than her parents had ever been. But Joy was the real sun Yeri’s Earth revolved around.

“Kinda hard to sleep after your delightful wake-up call Seungwan.” Joy said reaching for a glass and the near-empty carton of juice.

“Oh? Would you rather we removed the door to your room altogether?” Wendy chuckled.  

“Ah yes, I'm sure you’d love that Wendy,” Joy’s voice turning low and seductive. “But you don’t have to try that hard, if you wanted to watch us then you could’ve just asked.”  

“Straight girl seduced by sexy lesbians,” Yeri laughed. “sounds like the title of a PornHub video!”  

“One day!” Irene suddenly interrupted. “All I ask for is one day without anyone talking about their sex lives while we’re eating! Why is that so hard to ask?”  

Seulgi existed the bathroom in a cloud of steam. Irene leaving the trio in the kitchen in their own again.  

“Look, just start getting dressed already. We’re leaving in an hour.”

Denial is funny. Honestly, it’s probably one of, if not the most ironic emotion.  

Because on some subconscious level you know that you’re lying to yourself. And because you know what you’re doing is wrong, your actions change. You tell yourself over and over everything is fine, thinking you can ignore your problems out of existence. Driving past the exit signs you see because you don’t really believe in that upcoming cliff. And at the same time, you doubt your whole reality. “Is this real or am I overreacting?”, “Are they ignoring me or are they just not in the mood for talking?”, “Are we becoming closer or are we actually drifting apart?”.

Sometimes, in a relationship, people begin to grow apart. This can be one person’s fault, maybe both, maybe neither. Maybe the place you were, whether it was physical or mental, just doesn’t exist anymore. And you just can’t make your relationship work anymore. It’s fundamentally broken.

The drive to SM’s New York building had been uncomfortably quiet again. Joy’s hands were locked in a vice grip on the steering wheel. Her face in an impassive, disinterested glare at the road. The silence in the car weighed heavily on Yeri’s shoulders. It had been like this between the two of them for a while now. When they were both alone and awake, they didn’t speak as often. Overbearing, it didn’t let her relax. The uncomfortable tension between the two of them was suffocating, like smog. Conversation never really broke it, sex didn’t either. But it was one of the only ways she felt she could really make Joy happy these days. Her naturally vibrant and humorous personality seemed to disappear when it was just the two of them. One minute she would be laughing and friendly and only a few minutes later she would be terse, everything Yeri did seeming to annoy her in tiny but apparent ways.  

Yeri knew that the better option here was to confront Joy about these issues. But she couldn’t work up the nerve to ask her. Acknowledging their problems, shattering the illusion that everything was ok had never worked out in the past. When Joy would hide the messages on her phone from Yeri, promising to her that she had only slept with someone for work purposes. Telling Yeri she was the most important person in the world, only to ignore her for days afterwards. Saying she was beautiful only to criticise every aspect of her appearance in excruciating detail. Sure, Joy had faults. But that didn’t mean she was a bad person. Yeri knew the real Joy, behind the constantly happy facade. The one whose parents always told her she was a disappointment, who escaped a conversion camp in her teens, who took a scared, friendless girl under her wing and gave her a new life.

Yeri was a tumor slowly killing Joy’s spirit. It was painful to think about, but it was the truth. Yeri was never good enough for Joy, and she knew this. To bring their problems to the forefront risked Joy coming to the realization that she didn’t want Yeri. And that would, as far as Yeri was concerned, be a fate worse than death.  

So here they were again, outside the glass walls to the lobby of their grey-bricked office. The building stood so tall that looking up from Yeri’s eye level the building seemed to stretch directly into the sky.

“Bye,” Yeri hesitated. “Love you!” she called out again as Joy continued on unfazed to her section inside the building. Getting on an elevator several floors up Yeri moved through the same set of hallways to her desk in the I.T department. Logging into her computer, about the take another look at the schematics of a new bomb 127 were planning on using to break open a safe, when a fluffy mop of dark hair suddenly came into her eyeline.  

“Morning Yeri,” Jungwoo said. “Taeyong said he needs to see you.”

Yeri paused for a moment in confusion. “Taeyong? Like right now?” It was barely 8 o’clock, work had just started.

“Apparently,” Jungwoo said, taking a seat across from her in his cubicle. “He said it was urgent.”

Yeri stood up and began walking towards Taeyong’s office. Taeyong was the leader of NCT’s 127 unit and was the only member with a private room. Taeyong himself, despite his job position, was without doubt one of the least threatening people in the world. But past experience had proved that Taeyong never asked for a private audience to deliver good news.

Yeri’s stomach began to twist in knots as the knocked on the door to Taeyong’s office. Pushing the door open when she heard a faint “Come in.”

Taeyong was sat in his chair, posture ramrod straight and hands folded diplomatically in front of him. There were two chairs facing him, the one on the right already pre-occupied by a tall head of slick-backed hair.  

“Good morning Yerim, please take a seat.” Taeyong said through tight lips. Now that she was sitting next to him Yeri could remember meeting this other man before. He was gigantic, maybe several years older than her but still had a boyish face, brown hair combed back with gel and dressed in a well-fitted suit. He must take pride in his appearance.

“You two have met each other before? I assume.” Taeyong said. “Yeri this is Wong Yukei, alias Lucas. He’s in the China-based unit of NCT, WayV.”

“Nice to meet you.” Lucas said extending his hand for Yeri which she shook.

“And Lucas this is Kim Yerim, alias Yeri. She’s a member of SM’s ‘Red Velvet’ Specialised Foces team.”

Lucas’s eyes seemed to light up in acknowledgment of Yeri’s position. “Wait, you’re a member of Red Velvet? I thought there was only 4 members! How old are you?” Clearly his looks were well-suited to his childish personality if interrupting Taeyong was anything to go off. Though the low baritone of his voice was completely mismatched to the whimsical cadence at which he spoke.

“I’m 21 and I’ve been a member since 2015, I work mostly in the hacking and mechanics field, so I don’t go on missions often.” Yeri said.

“Actually, I’ve called you both here today to discuss your positions in your respective groups.” Taeyong said, clearing his throat. “I’ve been informed by my superiors that you’ve both been chosen to move up from your current stations into more, permanent features of your units.”  

Yeri’s breath stilled in her chest, eyes widening in shock and elation, a quick glance at Lucas showed a reflection of her own emotions on his face too.  For years, Yeri’s future in SM had remained uncertain. It took a long time to build up trust within an organized crime company, even with a friend on the inside. And while Yeri was by all means satisfied with her current job with the I.T crew she knew that she was just a cog in the machine. Easily disposable if she ever got too loose-lipped. ‘Permanent’ in SM meant you were acknowledged for your skill and importance. You could always rely on your fellow co-workers to have your back if things ever went to shit. It was a policy better than any 401k and it was never guaranteed and it was fucking hard to get and it was right in front of her right now.

“Of course, this move is conditional,” Taeyong said. “You’ve both been trained in firearm use, and Lucas your accuracy as an assassin is greatly admired by your superiors.” Taeyong paused briefly looking at them both before sucking in a deep breath.

“So, you have both been tasked with assassinating Mark Lee.”  

There was a beat of silence in the room. Taeyong’s lips were set in an emotionless, straight line. The shock didn’t resonate in Yeri’s mind. Nothing did. Her head felt empty, she didn’t even look t Lucas to gauge his reaction. All she could do was stare into Taeyong’s deep brown eyes. Searching for any emotional reaction from him.

“Unfortunately the task is not optional.” Taeyong said. “Mark has been told to meet you both in a private location at 7pm tomorrow. You will both be given a handgun and a bulletproof vest, as is standard. You will use these to kill him. Once he is dead you will each have to cut off one of his fingers so we can verify his identity. After this, Yeri,” Taeyong looked at her directly. “you will activate a bomb which is to be detonated several minutes later. If all goes according to plan the bomb should destroy all evidence of the assassination. You are to return to headquarters immediately, with the fingers, and then you can officially be welcomed into your permanent position as a member of SM. Are there any queations?” his voice was neither malicious nor regretful. He sounded composed, business-like. Not at all like he had just given a detailed account of how his two co-workers were going to murder a member of his own unit.

“Why are we both being asked to kill him?” Lucas said. “Assassinations are nearly always safer with just one person.” Yeri looked at him now, his eyebrows were knit together in what seemed like confusion. This oddly enough did relax her slightly; this abrupt assassination didn’t appear to be desirable to him either.

“Well firstly, you’ve both proven yourselves to be totally loyal to SM in the past,” Taeyong said. “but the main reason you’ve both been asked to ‘take care’ of this person in particular, is because you both have an emotional attachment to this person.” He stood up from his desk, circling his juniors in a slow pace. Keeping as much eye contact as possible with them. Taeyong had never intimidated Yeri in the past. He had only ever been kind and friendly to her, even in the workplace. Even at work, he always looked after her like an older brother. And despite their current circumstances she could still feel a calming aura radiating out of him.

“The reason permanent positions are so scarce is that the opportunity to become one doesn’t present itself often. Both of you trained together with Mark Lee,” Yeri winced at the mention of Mark’s name. “and it has been decided that he has become too much of a liability to keep anymore.” Taeyong sat back down in his seat before opening a drawer and pulling out two brown envelopes and placing them in front of Yeri and Lucas.

“Those are your instructions, memorize them.” Taeyong looked at them both again.

“I want to be clear with you two,” He said. “There is no option to refuse this assignment.” Yeri glanced at Lucas again, for the first time he was looking at her as well. “You’ve worked hard to get where you are now, this is the ultimate test of your loyalty to your fellow members. But I have faith you will both come out the other side.” Yeri’s throat went dry, a painful throbbing stated pulsing from her temples.  

“So, do you both agree to it?” Taeyong said.  

Kill Mark Lee or die? Mark Lee or you. Yeri had 1 second to choose the most important decision of her life.

“Yes.” Lucas replied, releasing a soft breath of air. Mark Lee or die? Mark Lee or die? The question began repeating in Yeri’s mind incessantly. She realized they were both watching her now. She had to decide.

“Yes.”

#nct #red velvet #wayv #red velvet yeri #red velvet fanfic #nct fanfic #wayv fanfic #wendy red velvet #seulgi #irene red velvet #joy red velvet #taeyong #lucas nct #lucas wong #yeri red velvet #kpop fanfic #nct 127 #lucas fanfic #mark nct #red velvet fluff #nct fluff #mafia au

[dontstopyurinow]

“Come here, and bring the blanket with you.” With Viktuuri?

Sorry for the delay, I hope you will enjoy it anyway, thank you for submitting a prompt! It was betaread by @littledancer8-writes (Thank you very much!) and it is also on AO3. 1850 words

—

Yuuri closes the front door with his foot and sighs as he unwraps his scarf from around his neck. It’s Friday night, the week has been excruciatingly long, and he cannot wait to go to bed. The weather in St Petersburg, true to February, is absolutely freezing and Yuuri cannot feel the tips of his fingers when he fumbles with the buttons to open his coat. His whole body hurts from training, his mind is on autopilot. Victor won’t be home for another two hours and, once again, Yuuri will go to bed without him. As much as he loves his husband, he is too tired to wait up for him, and Victor will go straight to bed too when he comes home anyway so it’s not really worth staying up. He will probably open an eye when Victor slides into bed and rolls to spoon with him as he wishes him goodnight.

Still lost in his tired thoughts, Yuuri turns to kick off his shoes on the doormat, but he is interrupted.

“Hey…”

The voice is calm and soft but Yuuri flinches in surprise. Victor is in the living room, in the sweatpants and hoodie he only wears at home. He smiles and Yuuri’s heart melts.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I thought you had training till 9?”

Victor’s smile gets wider. “I convinced Yakov to let me leave early.”

Yuuri’s chest swells. He knows that Yakov is not the kind to casually let his students skip practice, especially for no other reason than “I want to go home to see my husband and my dog”, and it means that Victor must have resorted to using all of his charms to be home with him tonight.

Victor walks up to Yuuri and takes him in his arms. Yuuri doesn’t resist for even a second.

“You’re going to have to pay double for it on Monday, right?” he mutters as he wraps himself around Victor.

Victor sighs and nods. Yuuri doesn’t have the heart to blame him. He is glad to see him too. They hug in silence and it lasts far longer than usual. The light is dim and the apartment is warm, in stark contrast with the icy wind outside. It’s still early in the evening but the night is already pitch black. Yuuri’s cheeks and nose are still cold from walking home and it feels wonderful to press his face against Victor’s chest and let his arms tighten around him to warm up. Yuuri suddenly realizes how long it has been since they last shared a quiet evening together.

They live together but it feels like they barely see each other. Yuuri leaves for the gym before Victor wakes up, then they join each other at the rink for Yuuri’s training but Victor is more of a coach than a husband, and Yakov then comes to drag Victor to his own practice session. If Victor is walking Makkachin when Yuuri comes home, or Yuuri is buying groceries when Victor is free, they can spend the whole day without seeing each other. Now they live in the same apartment, but sometimes Yuuri feels like he spends more time with Makkachin than with Victor.

Since the Grand Prix they had the Russian nationals and the Japanese nationals, and then the Europeans for Victor and the Four Continents for Yuuri, and now it’s February and it’s like they have not seen each other in months.

And the training is not like it used to be in Hasetsu. Back then Victor wasn’t tired, he wasn’t stressed, he didn’t have Yakov breathing down his neck telling him what to eat and when to sleep. He didn’t have to worry about his own performance and his own schedule. Yuuri’s heart always tightens when he stops the practice session and tells him: “I’m sorry, I have to go. Work on your step sequence again. I’ll see you tonight, I love you.” Yuuri still loves to have Victor as his coach, but it’s not the same, really. 

Yuuri rubs his nose in Victor’s T-shirt. The familiar scent of his cologne almost makes him want to sleep right here and now, in Victor’s arms. He blinks and sniffs the air. The living room smells of hot, delicious food and Yuuri’s eyebrows rise. With both of them in the middle of the competitive season, their fridge is full of lean meat that Yuuri is not allowed to deep fry, green vegetables, and the low-fat yogurt approved by Lilia. Yuuri feels like he hasn’t had a meal that tasted decent in ages. Now the apartment smells like butter, spices, herbs, and cream, and he salivates just thinking about it.

“You made dinner?”

Victor gives a short shrug but he blushes slightly. “Yeah. Well, to be completely honest it’s just pasta and sauce-”

“It smells amazing.”

“You have just enough time to shower before it’s ready.”

Yuuri stands under the hot stream and it feels so nice to wash off the sweat of a day of practice and finally feel his body warm up after shivering outside that his skin gets covered in pleasant goosebumps. Between the promise of a nice meal and the evening with his husband, he has not felt this relaxed since he moved to Russia months ago. When he comes out of the bathroom, he slides in the bedroom to get dressed and peeks in the living room.

Victor sees him and smiles. “Come here, and take the blanket with you!”

Yuuri puts on a sweater and wraps himself in their fluffiest blanket. The plates are full and steaming on the coffee table. Two glasses of wine stand beside the plates and Victor is struggling to keep Makkachin away from Yuuri’s meal until he comes to take it.

“I didn’t think this would be approved by my coach,” Yuuri says with a side smile.

“Just every once in a while it’s fine. Please don’t tell Yakov though.”

Yuuri takes his glass of wine and dips his lips into it. “This tastes too expensive.”

Victor takes the glass from his hand and sips a tiny bit of wine. He kisses Yuuri’s lips and they share the same bitter taste of old red wine. “It tastes just fine.”

“You don’t know how much it was, do you?”

Victor shakes his head. “I have no idea.”

They eat and for a moment they are silent, enjoying the meal with just the sound of the cutlery on the plates. Only after a while Yuuri comments on how good it tastes and Victor explains how he convinced Yakov to let him skip late practice, and Yuuri listens and laughs even when it’s not funny. 

Makkachin steals a meatball that Victor accidentally lets fall right in her mouth. By the time their plates are clean, Yuuri has tomato sauce all over his cheeks and his stomach feels so full that he is sure that he could not fit into his skating costume. 

Victor has a satisfied sigh and lies back on the couch. Yuuri shifts to straddle his legs and wrap his arms around his neck. He pecks him on the lips.

“Thanks for coming home early.”

“I wanted to see you.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

There is a pause and Victor brushes Yuuri’s back gently.

“I knew it’d be complicated if we both competed but… I didn’t know it’d be this tough,” he says quietly.

Yuuri lies against him to hug him. “You’re doing too much.”

To Yuuri’s surprise, Victor nods. He is silent for a few seconds before he looks up at Yuuri. “I don’t think I’ll compete again next year.”

Yuuri looks into his eyes as if they could tell him the right answer. Victor is just as beautiful as ever but the blue of his eyes is not as bright. It is like he is longing for something else now.

“Are you sure?”

Victor nods again. “I miss spending time with you and Makka and frankly… I don’t think my knees can take another fall like I had last week.”

Victor’s voice is low and quiet and Yuuri’s heart tightens. It is quite unusual to hear Victor admit that he has his limits and that he is not invincible. Oh Yuuri would like to tell him that it’s not true. That they will make it work, that he will compete for another ten years and keep winning and nothing will ever change.

But Victor knows. He knows that it will not last forever and that his best performances on the ice are behind him. Yuuri looks up and he knows that Victor is thinking the same thing. And yet his eyes are sad but strangely peaceful. 

“I still love to skate,” Victor adds, “but… It’s not the same anymore. I think I… I was afraid to retire because I didn’t know what I’d do after that. But now… I feel better about it.”

Yuuri gently brushes Victor’s cheek and leans up to kiss him, and it’s like now that they are together they aren’t afraid anymore. They are arriving at the end of their careers but it doesn’t feel like the end anymore. Yuuri presses his lips against Victor’s and it tells all the words that Yuuri wants to say and that Victor needs to hear. I love you. I’m here for you. We’re doing this together no matter what.

They part and Yuuri stays close. He whispers against Victor’s lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Yuuri shifts to lie more comfortably over Victor and pulls the blanket over both of them. It’s funny how their bodies fit perfectly together and Yuuri couldn’t find a better pillow than Victor’s sculpted pectoral, and Victor’s arm is just the right length for his hand to rest naturally on Yuuri’s butt.

“We should move to the bed,” Yuuri mutters when Makkachin climbs over their legs and there isn’t an inch of free space left on the couch.

“I can’t get up, my dog and my husband are lying on me.”

Yuuri doesn’t move an inch. “I ate too much, I can’t move.”

Yuuri grabs the remote control. Victor brushes his fingers through his hair while he goes through the programs absentmindedly. It’s nothing, but Yuuri had not realized how much he missed these moments. 

When he doesn’t find anything worth watching on TV, he looks up. Victor has nodded off on the cushion, his bangs in front of his eyes and his mouth slightly open. His chest rises and falls slowly. It lulls Yuuri and makes him sleepy. It makes Yuuri feel strangely warm to know that he is the only one to see this side of Victor, quieter, sometimes unsure, sometimes vulnerable. A Victor who has grown so much that he is not afraid to step off the ice anymore, and take more time for his life and his love.

Yuuri stretches his arm to turn off the light that’s next to the couch.

No, it really doesn’t feel like the end, Yuuri thinks. If anything, it’s just the beginning.

#yuri on ice #yoi #victuuri #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #late night drabble #marysanezumi

[mksc77]

Witchy Woman

Sorry this is so late!  I’m going to give it one last proofread/smoothing over tomorrow before I post it on ffnet and ao3, but here’s a preview.  Happy late Halloween, hope y’all like it!  💜

Eleanor is Rusty’s sister--she’s a few weeks away from turning 3 here.

"Here, honey, use the spoon." Sharon placed Eleanor's discarded spoon back in her hand and guided it back into the child-sized pumpkin. She gave Sharon a disbelieving look, dropped her spoon again, and dug back into the pumpkin with both hands. "Honey, no--oh, my god." Sharon gave up when Marie followed suit and started scooping out the pumpkin with her hands. "Hold on, let's get your clothes off so you don't make such a mess." After stripping Eleanor down to her panties and Marie to her diaper, Sharon stood back and let them go nuts.

"Don't worry about it, Mom, we'll just throw them in the bath when we're done," Emily spoke up. "This is probably the fastest way."

"You sure are calm..." Sharon turned around. "Ah, I see why." She took a glass from Emily and sat in one of the porch chairs. Now, this was her idea of a Friday afternoon. When Emily and Emmett didn't have plans, Emily usually showed up with fourteen-month-old Marie soon after her nap, and Emmett would come over after work.

Emily sat in the chair beside Sharon's. "Do you like that? I thought it would be fun to make it for your Halloween party tomorrow night."

Sharon took a long sip from her glass. "That is good. What's in it?"

"Vodka, ginger ale, pineapple juice, and some other stuff."  Emily took a sip of her drink.  "What are you guys going to be?"

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Andy and Provenza lost a bet with their commanding officer, so she got to pick their costumes. Which also means mine by default."

Emily wrinkled her nose. "It's Emmett's turn to get his way with costumes this year, so we have to do the couples thing. It's so lame."

"Oh, I'm sure Andy was quick to throw me under the bus to avoid something really bad. We have to be Gomez and Morticia Addams, and Louie's Uncle Fester."

"Oh, my god, that's perfect for Provenza!"

"I think that might've been why she chose that for us. Patrice is out of town, but she probably just would've said 'no' if she were given a costume assignment, anyway.  Are you guys taking Marie trick-or-treating?"

"Kind of," Emily answered.  "We're going to dress her up and walk around the neighborhood with our friends, but we're not taking her to houses for candy or anything."  

Sharon winced as Marie's pumpkin-glob-filled hand went over her face and through her hair. "This is tearing my nerves up."

"It was your idea," Emily retorted.

"I know...I just wish we could do it without the mess." Sharon looked up as Rusty stepped onto the back porch. "Hi, honey, did you get much studying done?"

"I wasn't studying, I was getting my outlines and everything ready to study," Rusty corrected her.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Oh good god. Nerdiness takes on a new dimension."

"The Friday before Halloween is the best day for the library," Rusty continued, ignoring Emily. "Our Halloween party was last night, and that's always the last hurrah before everyone starts to study for exams. There aren't usually many people there on Fridays since only the 1Ls have class, but even a lot of them skipped today. The library was like a ghost town."

"Wusty!" Eleanor exclaimed, reaching a pumpkin-covered hand toward him.

"Hey, Ellie girl!" Rusty kissed the top of her head. "That's all you're getting from me until you don't have pumpkin gunk all over you, sorry." He looked at Sharon. "I didn't think she'd be here yet."

"Your mom had some things to do before going out of town this weekend and asked me if she could drop her off early," Sharon explained.

"All done!" Eleanor announced.

Sharon handed Rusty the cat stencil Eleanor had picked out. "If you'll trace that onto the pumpkin, I'll carve it."

"Deal."

Once the pumpkin was carved, Sharon lit a small candle and placed it inside. Marie squealed and pointed to it. "Ca!"

"When did she start saying 'cat?'" Sharon asked.

"Earlier this week," Emily answered. "It seems like she's saying something new every day."

Andy came home as Sharon and Emily finished cleaning up the pumpkin mess from the porch and the kids. "You're home early," Sharon commented after she kissed him.

"Yeah, we didn't have much going on, and we're due for a case. Hernandez let us go early...I picked up our costumes," Andy grumbled. "I can't believe Provenza and I lost that bet."

"I can't believe you guys thought you could outwit your commanding officer, especially a woman," Sharon shot back.

Andy pulled their costumes out of the bag in his hand. His annoyed expression twisted into a grin as he held up Sharon's long, black, low-cut dress. "Huh, maybe this won't be so bad...I can't wait to see you in this."

Sharon reached for Andy's costume. "Yeah, mine's not bad, but this is terrible...”  She tilted her head up and kissed Andy again. “But I think you can pull it off."

"Ew, you guys, there are kids out here," Rusty whined.

The next afternoon, with the house ready for the party, Sharon sat on the back porch with a glass of wine. Andy joined her soon after, in his ugly striped suit with a scowl on his face. Sharon moved over to make room for him in the chair beside her and couldn't help but laugh. "You laugh, you die," Andy muttered. "She couldn't have at least let me wear the plain black one."

"I think I'll take my chances." Sharon curled up against him, as the late afternoon was starting to get cool. Rusty came outside with Eleanor in his arms, and she struggled to get down. "What an adorable little kitty!" Sharon cooed as Eleanor climbed up in the chair with her and Andy. "I'll do your whiskers and nose after I do Andy's makeup in a little bit."

"What?! I never agreed to makeup!" Andy protested.

"You're going to need a little powder to make your face more pale."

Andy shook his head. "No way."

Sharon shrugged.  "Well, if we're not going for realism, then I'll probably be more comfortable with a camisole under that dress. It's a little low-cut-"

"Okay, okay, do whatever you want to me," Andy quickly amended, leaning more closely to whisper in her ear. "Before and after the party."

"We'll see, Casanova."

A little while later, Sharon was dressed and putting the finishing touches on her makeup, humming along to her phone as she applied gray eye shadow and red lipstick.

She held me spellbound in the night Dancing shadows and firelight Crazy laughter in another room And she drove herself to madness with a silver spoon

Woo hoo, witchy woman See how high she flies Woo hoo, witchy woman She got the moon in her eye

Well, I know you want a lover Let me tell you, brother She's been sleeping in the devil's bed And there's some rumors going round, someone's underground

She can rock you in the night-time 'til your skin turns red...

"Tell me about it," Andy commented, nodding at Sharon's phone as he entered the dressing area right outside of their bathroom.

Sharon rolled her eyes and stood up. "Sit."

Andy gave her a suffering look as he sat down. "I can't believe I agreed to this." He eyed Sharon, liking how she looked in the fitted, low-cut black dress.  “Seeing you in that is the only thing getting me through tonight.”

"Relax, Andy, it's Halloween!" Sharon got a makeup brush and held her hand under his chin while she brushed powder over his face. Andy started to stand up when she closed the clasp, but she placed her hand against his chest and nudged him back down. "Hold on, I'm not finished."

"Not finished?! What else—"

"Just a minute." Sharon dipped an eye shadow brush into one of her palates and lightly brushed it under his eyes. "Now, a little lipstick—"

"Absolutely not. I draw the line there." Andy put his hand between his legs for a moment. "Just making sure my penis is still there."

"Oh, it is, I can assure you." Sharon put her hands on Andy's cheeks and kissed him before applying the mustache that had come with the costume. "For the love of god, don't ever grow a mustache."

Andy turned to look in the mirror. "I don't know, I think I could pull this off! What do the kids call it, 'no-shave November?' Maybe I'll try it next month."

"If you participate in 'no-shave November,' then so am I," Sharon cautioned.

"Never mind," Andy said hastily. "I mean, not that you have to—not that I expect you to—" he sputtered.

"I know, honey, I'm kidding. You're so cute when you stick your foot in your mouth." Sharon scooped up Eleanor as she scampered in, wearing a black leotard and leggings. "All right, kitty cat, let's get you fixed up." She held Eleanor's face still as she carefully applied whiskers and blackened in the tip of her nose with her eyeliner pen. "Try not to touch your face for a few minutes, okay?" Sharon lowered Eleanor to the floor and walked toward the kitchen when she heard the alarm system beep a couple of times, meaning that a door had been opened. "I bet Marie's here!" The sound of little feet answered her before she was even in the kitchen. "Hey, my little pumpkin! Where's your costume?"

"It would've been a nightmare in her car seat," Emmett answered.

Sharon wrinkled her nose as she lifted Marie into her arms. "Ugh, she's ripe, all right."

"Yeah, she was working on that in the car." Emmett got the diaper bag and took Marie from Sharon. "Let's go get you changed."

"No!" Marie protested as Emmett carried her out of the room.

"She's getting such an attitude," Emily commented. "When did my favorite word stop being 'no?'"

Sharon rolled her eyes. "I'll let you know when we get there."

"Ha, ha." Emily got a couple of martini glasses out of a cabinet. "Witches' Brew?"

"Don't mind if I do."

Eleanor ran up to Emily to show off her costume. "Look, Emmy!"

Emily smiled and picked her up. "You are the cutest little kitty I've ever seen!" She put Eleanor down and went back to making their drinks. "I brought some dry ice to make them steam later. They'll go perfectly with your costume."

Emmett came back in with Marie dressed in her pumpkin costume, and she grinned and reached for Sharon, who happily took her from him.  "Look at my sweet girl!  You're adorable," she cooed.

Provenza arrived not much later, huffing and grumbling in his Uncle Fester costume. "I can't believe I have to do this. Flynn, I blame you entirely."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Of course you do."

Captain Hernandez wasn't far behind him with her sons, and she broke into a laugh when she saw Andy and Provenza. "This is even better than I thought."

"I'm glad someone's enjoying this," Provenza muttered.

"This could've all been avoided if you had just admitted I was right to begin with," Elisa reminded him.

"Ye gods, we will never live this down," Provenza grumbled.

"No, you won't," Andrea agreed, as she had just arrived.  She snapped a photo of Andy and Provenza standing next to each other, looking equally disgruntled. "Perfect. I'm sure Elisa can find the perfect place to put this to remind you of your stupidity."

"Ahh, I like the way you think," Elisa replied. "I hadn't even thought of that."

"That's what I'm here for." Andrea looked around. "I heard something about Witches' Brew?"

Before long, the party was in full swing. It was an eclectic mix of personal and LAPD friends and some of their children. Sharon found herself watching Julio with the divorced daughter of one of her friends, and she didn't realize how obviously she was staring until Andrea appeared beside her. "Playing matchmaker?"

Sharon jumped. "What? No! I mean, they seemed to hit it off at our Labor Day party, so I didn't think it would hurt to give them another chance to meet."

"Uh-huh."

A little while later, Andy finished getting ready for bed and climbed in beside Sharon. She couldn't keep her eyes open and was falling asleep. "Nooooo, don't fall asleep! What happened to-"

"Mmm, Morticia's sleepy," Sharon murmured. "Rain check?"

"You drive a hard bargain, Morticia." Andy kissed her forehead and curled up beside her.

Early on Halloween evening, Sharon sat on the front porch with a few friends from her old neighborhood.  Andy had been rolled out on Sunday and would probably be late getting home, so she'd invited them over for the evening.

"Halloween with no kids. The best kind," Janet commented.

"I know, right? Who needs more wine?" Sharon asked. When their children were growing up, they'd had a tradition of pizza and cocktails before taking their kids trick-or-treating as a group. They would always reconvene at Sharon's afterward to keep the party going, and one by one the dads would take their children home for bed. That was always another tradition--Halloween was theirs, and they were recreating it tonight.  

The temperature dropped as the sun went down, so Sharon went inside for a thicker cardigan and another bottle of wine.  They talked and listened to music on the front porch, passing out candy as trick-or-treaters steadily arrived.  She watched as families walked around the neighborhood, some in groups, and some by themselves, but almost all with cups in their hands of beverages that were most likely of the alcoholic variety.  Some things never change.  

Sharon was surprised when Andy pulled into the driveway a couple of hours later.  She wasn't expecting him home until late, if even at all.  He went into the house from the garage, so she met him in the kitchen.  "You're home early."

"Yeah, we wrapped the case."  Andy looked through the refrigerator for something to warm up for dinner.  He just wanted to go to bed after a long week, but he had something else on his mind first.  "I was, uh, kind of hoping to phone in my rain check," he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck.  He started to pull away from her, but an intoxicating scent drew him back.  "New soap?"  He could also smell her perfume, so it wasn't that.  

"Yeah.  Rosewater.  You like it?"

"You have no idea..."  Andy inhaled again, unable to pull himself away from her.

Sharon leaned back and gently pushed his face away from her.  "They'll be gone soon, and then I'm all yours."

"I'm holding you to that."  Andy went outside to say hello before getting dinner for himself.  True to Sharon's word, her friends were gone soon, and he was quick to take advantage.  He was waiting for her at the door as soon as he heard them leaving.  "Trick or treat?" he mumbled into her neck.

Sharon took his hand and led him toward their bedroom.  "Surprise me."

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