Tumgik
#his eyes and eyebrows??????idk help
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I keep attempting and failing at drawing him in a recognizable way but I can't keep just. Deleting my attempts or I'll explode asdfghjkl
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inkdrinkerworld · 9 months
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idk if it’s weird but do you know that thing where you grab your boobs for comfort?? imagine doing that to miguel 😭😭
omg omg😭😭
you're laying in bed unable to fall asleep when it happens. your hand just creeps up his shirt.
miguel doesn't think much of it, you like the skin in skin contact- so does he.
it's when your hand hovers just under his pectorals that he turns to you and raises an eyebrow.
he's still working, hair tired back with one of your scrunchies and his tablet looks tiny in his massive hand. he'd been trying to hypothesise a re-calibration to his nano-bots all day.
"what do you want?" he asks, looking down at you with curious eyes.
your eyes are barely even open, your face turned to face his bicep. "can't sleep," you murmur, planting your hand on his chest and squeezing.
"oye," he bats at your hand when you do it a second time. you groan when his hand removes yours from under his shirt.
"miguel," you whine, drawing the syllables of his name out long.
"amor," he mocks your exact tone. "why're you grabbing my chest?" he drops your hand and cups your face, guiding your tired eyes to rest on his face.
"'cos it's comforting," your words sludge together but miguel makes you out just fine. he cracks a smile, you narrow your barely open eyes; "it is. helps me sleep."
"yeah?" he teases, and you nod. your hand slinks back up his shirt and rests on his chest, for the most part it's just an added heat to miguel's chest. "if you don't fall asleep any faster i'm calling bullshit."
you let out a tired giggle and slobber a kiss to his bicep; miguel waits five minutes and in no time he feels your breathing change- deeper now as you fall asleep.
he can't believe it.
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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months
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whiny and spoiled
in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs
You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 
You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 
“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 
“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 
“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 
“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 
“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 
“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 
“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 
He circles to the foot of the bed. 
“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 
“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 
You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 
“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 
“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 
“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  
“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 
But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 
“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 
Your eyes narrow. 
“Don’t patronize me.” 
The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  
“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 
You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 
“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 
“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 
“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  
“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 
“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 
“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 
“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 
“I like hearing you say yes.” 
You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 
“Yes, you can take them off.” 
A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  
“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 
“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 
“My attitude is your fault.” 
“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 
“Spencer,” you grit. 
He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 
“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 
And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 
“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 
“Are you just saying that?” 
Another kiss. 
“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 
“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  
The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 
“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 
He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 
Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  
His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  
“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  
“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 
“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 
“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 
“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  
Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 
“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 
He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 
You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  
“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 
“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 
A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 
The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 
“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 
“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 
“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 
“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 
You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 
“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 
“Don’t go spreading it around.” 
“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 
“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 
He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 
“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 
You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 
“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 
“Oh, do I?” 
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imsilay · 8 months
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LETHAL pt.3
NSFW! mdni +18, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging (aphrodisiac), stalker!König, obsessive König, breeding k!nk, size k!nk. belly bulge, oral (female receiving) (idk lmk if i forget anything)
word count: 2.6k! (it’s too much for me :’) )
summary: he was picky and he picked you.
prev chapter here
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art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt
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A few days later you wake up feeling uneasy. You had a headache and somehow… horny. You got up and had a cold shower, hoping it would help. It helped… Untill you had a irresistible urge to have something inside your aching and dripping cunt at the work. It was a strange feeling, you assumed it was like that because it’s your ovulation day. Sitting on the chair while typing away on the laptop at work; you had to squeeze your thighs together to ease that feeling. Your pussy already soaked at the time you arrived to home. You cursed at yourself for wearing that skirt because the wetness between your legs were dripping down from your trembling thighs at the time you arrived your front door. You just wanted to open the door and satisfy your soaking cunt with your toys.
“Maus?” your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice. ‘Please god, not him.’ you prayed. That man was extremely attractive and you were down bad for him. You stopped trying to open your damn door with trembling hands as you turned your head towards him and forced a smile. “Hi, König! What are you doing here?” you tried to be polite and calm, but in your head you were screaming for a dick.
"I saw you from over there," he said, pointing at the parking lot next to his apartment building. His accent sent waves of pleasure to your body. "You seemed in a rush. Are you alright?" There was sincerity in his voice and his icy-blue eyes were filled with concern. It made you blush, from cheeks to ears. You swallowed before answering, "It’s nothing important. I just forgot to feed my cat." It was obviously a lie. One of his eyebrows raised, but he nodded and watched as you entered your house after a short goodbye.
You were just so naive and clueless, thinking he wouldn’t notice you’re squirming with need. Of course he would know. He was the one who sneaked into your home and gave you aphrodisiac last night. He just gave you enough to make you needy so you could made it to home after work.
When he saw you getting out of your car, your legs trembling and cheeks flushed, he almost lost it.. He just wanted to drag you to his house and fuck you until you were a babbling and sobbing mess. Yet he managed to keep his calm. He was impatiently waiting for you to enter your house when he already had his eyes on the window, hiding behind the curtains. When you came to view his heart was beating like crazy. You locked the door of your room and opened the drawer, where you put your toys. Too eager for your sweet release you forgot to close your curtains…
He pressed his forehead against the window as he watched you satisfy yourself with different kinds of toys. His cock was rock hard but watching you was much more of an important matter. His cock twitched at the first time you cum, it was a sight to see. Your eyes rolling back as your hips twitched foward to the device. But one wasn’t enough. You needed more.
After two more orgasm you were sobbing and quivering. You just needed something for your aching cunt but nothing was enough. That was when he decided to step in. He was still so hard but he knew whatever he do it wouldn’t soften his cock. But you. He grabbed the keys of his house. And the cookies he made for you as an excuse.
The knocking on your door drew you back to reality from your bliss. You cursed at the person that knocked on the door as you got dressed into something that you’d wear at home. Your legs still trembling and pussy dripping, already soaked the new pair of your panties. You answered the door and hid the half of your body behind the door.
“Hallo, Maus. I brought you some cookies to fix your mood.” he said with that sweet tone. Your hands grabbed the door handle with a force that could kill a man. That was when you decided that. You would fuck that sweet neighbor.
He wondered why you were staring at him without a word. Were you mad at him because he interrupted your sweet time with your toys? Did you notice the bulge that was straining his pants? Or maybe the way he gazed at you hungrily made you feel hesitant to invite him in?
He was too lost in his thoughts, he dropped the cookies when you grabbed his arm and dragged him in. Pressing his back against the door and clinging to his arm. “König.” you whispered before biting your lips to not moan. His heart hammered his chest a few times like it was trying to escape from his chest to you. “Ja, Maus? Is everything okay?” he stuttered as he looked down at you. Your flushed face and the way you looked into his eyes intensely wasn’t helping.
“I need you.” you whimpered and pressed your body against his. “Can you please give me your cock?” you whispered softly and moaned when you felt his already hard cock against your stomach. He was so big. Like you imagined he would be, it made you even more needy.
“You- What?” he stuttered again. The last thing he expected was the way you rubbed your body against him as you pleaded for his cock. He was used to moving with a plan, but the way you ruined it was even better than he could imagine. By the time he collected himself you were grabbing his arm tightly like he would escape from you if you let go. His pupils were blown wide and body tense. “You have no idea what you’re wanting from me, Maus.” he mumbled and picked you up by your hips carrying you to your room like you weighed nothing and you wrapped your legs around him. The voice in his mind was screaming for him to take you in that moment. You weren’t complaining about being carried yet you were happy that he accepted. So clueless. If only you knew he was the cause of your endless neediness.
He made you straddle one of his thighs after removing your shorts and leaving you with your panties. “Show me how bad you want me to fuck you.” he said with authority in his eyes. You had a feeling that if you didn’t do as he said you won’t be getting anything. So you did. Hands on his shoulders as you grounded against his thigh. The fabric of your already wet panties soaking his trousers. You moaned as you felt his muscular thigh under your dripping cunt. He was so big and toned. You wondered what his cock looked like. Just thinking about it made you moan in need and your walls clenched around nothing.
He had to bit his lip to not moan at the sight in front of him. You were grounding against his thigh soaking his trousers and moaning like a bitch in heat. His cock throbbed in his pants. Oh how he wanted to tear your panties down and eat your little cunt out… Your body trembled and hips twitched. “Already, Maus? I haven’t seen someone cumming as fast as you.” he taunted. Your hips were already moving frantically to reach your sweet release. His hands found your hips groping them as he helped you move on his thigh. “Guess you really want me.” he mumbled amused with your efforts. You looked so hot when you used his body for your pleasure. “‘m so close, König.” you whimpered and your movements got erratic. You feel your stomach tightening up as he helped you ground against his thick thigh. “Let go for me, Maus.” he whispered sweetly. He knew it wouldn’t be enough for you anyway. Not until he filled you up with his big cock.
You gripped his shoulders tight as you cum undone on his thigh, eyes rolling back and body twitching. “Braves Mädchen.” he cooed as he laid you on your back gently and spread open your leg. “Do you still need my cock?” he teased. His hands caressing your thighs up and down slowly. “Yes. Yes, König. Please give it to me.” you pleaded with that sweet voice of yours, you had no idea how he wanted it too. He looked as calm and sweet as ever, but deep inside him, he was putting you into positions that he wanted to take you. First he would eat you out until you cum on his tongue like he imagined all nights. Then he would put you on all fours and pound into your needy cunt until you cream on his cock. This night he would fulfill all his sick fantasies and you would just let him take you over and over.
His calloused and lengthy fingers were making you shiver and imagine them deep inside you. You had to have it. “König, can you please…” you reached a hand and pulled his hand towards your mouth, as he watched you with curiosity. His mind went blank when you took his fingers into your mouth and swirled your tongue around them. “Scheiße-” he groaned and pushed his fingers into your mouth further. He fucked your mouth with his fingers, covering his index and middle finger with your drool. Your eyes rolled back with the rhythm of his fingers. “So fucking needy.” he growled when he pulled his fingers out of your mouth drawing a whine out of you. He quickly pulled down your panties and cursed again when he saw how your slick clinged to your panties leaving a trail. When the panties were gone, he pocketed it, he shoved his fingers into your dripping tight hole. You screamed when he found that sweet spot curling his fingers and hitting there again and again. “oh my-“ your legs trembled and hands gripped the sheets for dear life. It wasn’t long when your fourth orgasm hit you like a truck. “It amazes me how fast you cum, Maus.” he chuckled lightly as he continued to pump his fingers into you through your orgasm.
“That’s enough.” you whined and grabbed his forearm. His brows frowned and he sent you a warning look. You pulled your hands away immediately like you touched fire. “Nein. We aint stopping, Maus. Not until i make sure you’re mine.” he mumbled darkly as he leaned his mouth into your pussy. He licked from bottom to your clit making you shudder and moan loudly. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him because you were scared of what he would do. His hands grabbed your thighs firmly to prevent you from closing them. He lapped at your pussy like he was thirsty for a month and you were his only water supply. His mask covering between your legs, where his mouth at, and you was glad it did. Because if you saw him eating you out like that you would’ve gone crazy. His icy-blue eyes found yours when he sucked your clit. The sensation was too much for you especially after cumming that much. “Plea-“ your breath hitched when he forced his tongue inside. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a high pitched scream. You cum all over his tongue and he gladly accepted your juices. Sucking and lapping hungrily.
“Du schmeckst so süß.” (You taste so sweet.) he mumbled as he licked you up for the last time. He pulled back reluctantly feeling like he could dive in again and make you cum over and over again. “Time for the main course, Maus.” he whispered into your ear. “Would you like to take off my mask? So you can see how much i will enjoy fucking your little cunt.” he purred. He was still gentle yet he made you feel weak. Like you couldn’t resist him, even if you wanted to. You grabbed the mask with trembling hands and pulled it off. This was the first time you saw him without his mask. He was handsome despite the scar on his face. Before you could say anything he slammed his lips to yours and grabbed your jaw forcing you to part your lips so he could explore your warm mouth with his tongue. You moaned softly and tasted your arousal from his lips. He swiftly unbuckled his belt with one of his hands and tugged his pants down along with his boxers. He groaned into your mouth when his cock was finally free and fully erected. His lips didn’t left yours as he pressed his red tip against your throbbing clit and made you squirm.
“I wonder were you this needy before the aphrodisiac i gave you.” he mumbled after releasing your lips. Your mind was too foggy after all your orgasms you barely understand what he say. “What did-” he cut you off again but this time shoving his cock inside your tight cunt. His tip hit your cervix and made your toes curl. “Too- Fuck. Too deep.” you sobbed. He stretched you out so deliciously but it hurt like hell. He was so fucking big his cock made a bulge on your belly. He groaned as he rested his forehead against yours. “It will be okay. You can take it, Maus.” he cooed. But it felt like he was sliding you open with his monster sized cock. “You feel so good around me.” he mumbled as he placed kisses on your face. He knew he was too big for you. You were so small compared to him, in every way. He let you adjust his length inside you but it become hard for him to not move when your walls clenched around him. “It hurts.” you cried and gripped his shoulders. “I know, Maus. You’re doing so good f’me.” he kissed your lips until your cries wane. You were so much important than him. He worshipped you.
“I’m gonna move.” he whispered and started to thrust into your tight cunt slowly at first. When your pussy adjusted his length, he picked up the pace. He was bullying his cock into your dripping hole with a merciless pace like he was taking revenge of the time he jerked off while watching you through the window. All you could do was dug your nails into his shoulders and scream his name.
“Scheiße.” he hissed. It was just like how he imagined it would be. He imagined your face twisting with pleasure and screaming his name as he bullied his cock into your little cunt. “Louder.” He slammed his hips into yours hard. Your pussy swollen and dripping from all the stimulation. “I said louder.” he hissed and smacked your hips hard. He wouldn’t stop until you did as he said. So you did. You screamed his name as loud as you can. It made his cock twitch hearing you forcing yourself to slur his name out. “Braves Mädchen.” he cooed as he slammed his lips harder into yours. He threw his head back and groaned when you cum unannounced, creaming on his cock and crying his name. Your walls clenched around him drawing him to edge as he fucked the orgasm out of you. “König, i can’t… anymore.” you whimpered between your sobbing. Hearing you beg him with your voice hoarse from all the screaming and moaning, made him cum deep inside you. “Mine.” he mumbled as he fucked his cum into you. “You’re mine, Maus. And i won’t let you leave me anymore.” he mumbled like he was talking with himself. It sent chills down to your spine. He didn’t pull his cock out plugging his cum into your pussy. You didn’t even had the strength to push him away. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and put your head onto his chest. He wouldn’t let you go. Never. You were his.
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a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :*
also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)
this work is basically all the things i want him to do to me.
….
@mitchlow
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quimichi · 2 months
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↳ ❝ [YOU WAKE HIM UP WITH NONSENSE] ¡! ❞ pt.2
warnings: Pet names idk some might cringe at that, bad writing, Ace affectionately calling you bitch, some maybe turn out ooc - i just suck at a few characters-my apologies
summary: You wake him up in the middle of the night talking complete nonsense
characters: Twst boys x F!Reader
word count: 4.246
a/n: THIS IDEA WAS NOT FROM ME, unfortunately i can't find the creator so if you remember tag them! My writing wasn't as good as theirs tho
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Riddle
Riddle's slumber is disturbed by the sound of his name. He doesn't answer right away, opening his eyes slowly and blinking a few times before he realizes his surroundings. "My rose?..." he asks, voice tired and hoarse.
He sits up, looking over at you. He sees you, and his expression softens. "Are you not able to sleep?..." "Remeber when i was walking my whale in the mountains, and i met two talking closets offering me a discount on money?" Clearly you make no sense, after all this was planned. You have to stiffle your laugh and giggles but you manage to stay serious nonetheless. Riddle blinks a few times as he tries to process what you're saying, his sleepy brain refusing to comprehend the words.
As his thoughts clear, his eyebrows frown as he attempts to make any sense of you talking about closets. Or discounts on money.
He blinks a third time to clear his vision. The expression on his face is pure gold, priceless. He looks adorable with his mouth agape. Riddle blinks a few more times. His eyes flicker as he attempts to discern your words, but he is too sleepy to put together the pieces.
"You walked a whale?" he finally manages. "Talking closets? Discount? Mountains??" He lets himself drop backwards onto the bed again and left out a sigh. "Mhm! Talking closets in the mountains" you softly laugh as you kiss his cheek and lay down beside him. Riddles cheeks heat up lightly, and he cannot help but blush.
"You can tell me all about it once its the right time..." and before you could even answer, he's out again....
Trey
The sound of your voice stirs him from sleep, and his eyes flutter open. Trey blinks a few times, the softest smile still gracing his features. He blinks again and again, finally fully comprehending the situation. His eyes widen as his lips part.
"Ah...yes?" he whispers, rubbing his eyes to rid himself of lingering sleepiness.
"I forgot to tell you that yesterday I was out with my mixer and we saw a duck on the runway having metal teeth." You can tell that the story has stumped him for a few seconds. He blinks, seemingly trying to process what you just said.
Though he knows the words make sense separately, all together they're a rather peculiar combination. He tilts his head, his brow furrowing.
"That's...a bit strange, no? Was it a normal duck aside from its odd teeth?" "Yeah!" His mouth quirks up. You can see a glimmer of amusement flit across his features as he chuckles. "A duck with metal teeth it was then, cool i guess." he says as he tries to form a picture of it in his mind. The concept of an otherwise-normal duck sporting metal teeth would definitely be a curious sight.
He lets out a soft snicker, clearly entertained by the absurd image. "Now," he yawns, "c'mere and sleep with me now, kay?" he mumbles tiredly and pulls you closer by your hips, pressing you against his body.
Cater
Cater's eyes open slowly, as if he was only half asleep. When he sees you, his eyes widen a bit and he tries to focus. His expression is soft and a bit hazy, but he seems to recognize you immediately. When he sees you, you notice a wave of tender affection flood his body as you hear him take in a deep breath before he lets out a quiet sigh. "Whatisitbaby..." he slurrs his words together.
"I baked a broom for you and decorated it with car keys for your happy easter celebration on Christmas!" Cater blinks a few times, before he slowly lifts his head and blinks slowly. He seems a bit confused about your statement, how can someone not. He is too drowsy to respond just yet, so he merely smiles goofly at you gently and lets out a small yawn. His eyelids slowly start to close again, but he seems very content to just sit here with you.
Cater seems to be drifting off sitting, so you decide to let him return to sleep. His breathing grows heavier the moment his back hits the bed again, but you can still see his chest rise and fall softly as his body adjusts to a deeper slumber.
His face rests against your chest, but before he can fully fall back asleep again he slurrs a few words for you. "Youcantellmeallaboutitinthemornin'kaykaybaby?"
"Kay Kay, baby" you softly laugh and kiss his forehead.
Ace
Ace’s breathing pauses for a moment as he remains partially asleep. His eyelids flutter and his eyes remain closed, but he responds nonetheless. "Fuck off Juice...lemme sleep..."
"....bro youre in my room no blueberry juice here-" you deadpan. Ace raises his head, mouth open with a bit of droll running out. He blinks slowly, left eye earlier than the right, and looks drowsy at you. "Right....what's the matter babe?" He drops his head face down in the pillow again after he used all his energy to answer you. "So, yesterday when i wanted to visit the moon i accident took the wrong worm and we ended in the bushes where shoes grow." Ace laughs softly into the pillow and shakes his head at the absurdity of it all. “Ah, yes…I remember. Cool story babe.......now lemme sleep"
Before you can even react Ace wraps his arms cautiously around you and pulls beside him as he lays on his stomach. "You're one crazy bitch...fuck, i love you." He mumbles into the pillow again, before turning to face you and pull you closer into his chest. Ace lovingly kissed your forhead before stroking your hair and slowly falling asleep again.
Deuce
A quiet moan escapes Deuce’s lips, and he begins to stir. He opens his eyes and sits up— you can see that he is still half-asleep, blinking slowly and lazily at the ceiling. “Wha-...ar...are you hurt or somethin'?” he says in a gentle, hoarse whisper.
Your gentle touch on his shoulder has woken him from his rest, and yet he doesn't seem annoyed by it; quite the opposite, in fact.
"No, no I'm not hurt. But i just saw a flying console screaming for pudding outside our shower." "Pudding?" Deuce repeats the word curiously, blinking as he wipes his nose and sniffs tiredly. Your tone seems to suggest that he should find the word familiar, but the foest year seems genuinely clueless as to what you're talking about. He gives you a baffled expression, but you can tell that he's still not quite himself.
If there are any flying consoles out there, they aren't his concern. "Pudding... flying consoles..." he mumbles. "Baby, you want some pudding...?" He ask tiredly, looking over at clock on the wall, luckly the moonlight lets him see the time. "At..." he squint his eyes, "8 am?"...3 am but you don't want to burst his bubble just yet.
"I can wait till 8 am, no biggie" you say, smiling at how concerned but also confused he is. Although hes tired he still tries to be a good boyfriend for you. "M'kay...g'night..."...out like a light.
Leona
"Hmm" Leona groans. His hands trail up and down beside him lookung for your body to pull you closer against his body. But he didn't found you, instead you were sitting up. "Herbivore,...c'mere already."
He's still slightly groggy from sleep. Its common knowledge, waking Leona Kingscholar up is an unofficial crime. And now you even left his arms, the audacity. Good thing hes way to tired at 2am.
"I was looking for my teapot but instead found a dancing glass of ice tea waiting at the traffic light to turn into a tulip." "Ah... what?" Leona murmurs, slowly shifting upward. His gaze is still half-lidded by sleep; his eyes have yet to come back into focus.
He blinks at you a couple of times, before finally rubbing his eyes and frowning. Leona looks somewhat annoyed. "What nonsense are you saying?" He blinks some more, his voice still rough with sleepiness. "I...I love you come back and sleep." And since you didn't immediately react to him he growls back a, "Now."
Ruggie
Ruggie stirs at your voice, ears laying flat and lazy against his head. He opens his eyes slowly and looks at you with half lidded, sleepy eyes. "Mmm...is it morning already?" he asks quietly. "No." You smile gently at him and kiss his cheek. He smiles dopey and falls back against the pillows. "But...when I tried to read the picture about the story of the bear who went jogging in the clouds, i got confused."
Ruggie is just as confused. But smiles slightly as he props himself up in bed. He rubs his eyes, his expression one of amusement layered with tiredness.
"Ya know..., you really need to stop askin' me to help you with your homework,” he mumbles. "Huh?" "...Huh?" "....oh-" "yeah?..." Ruggie didn't know what he said, neither did he knows what he actually understood. And neither did you. You both just blink at each other looking confused, before he drops down into the pillows again and holds his arms out for you. "Come back and cuddle...ya silly little minx"
Jack
His ears twitch at the sound of your voice, and his eyes dart open in a sharp flutter. Blinking away the lingering sleep from his eyes, the world comes into focus.
When he realizes that its only you in front of him, he relaxes. "Are you not feeling well?" He's definitely not wide awake but isn't half asleep either. He quickly sits up too and puts his hand on your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb as he looks at you worried. That would make you melt under normal circumstances, but you had other plans this night. "I was attacked by a wild blueberry and it wanted to read my eyelashes off my nails."
Jack blinks. His thumb stops moving as he is processing your words slowly. "... You're... you're..." He trails off at the nonsensicality of the sentence. The words don't register, and he looks at you with confusion. His brow furrows.
"What?"
You can't help but giggle. "Alright...time for you to get some sleep, hm?" Jack sounds exhausting, from being sleepy and from you. He stroke your cheek lovingly one last time, before you cave in and lay back into bed. "Good girl...", sudden tiredness came over Jack and he lays back beside you, pulling you against his chest.
Azul
The voice breaks him from his slumber. He flinches in surprise, waking from a deep sleep. His lavender eyes shoot open. They look at you with a certain amount of fright — until they register your face, in the darkness of your bedroom.
"Pearl?" His voice is a whisper— husky with sleep, but soft all the same. "If a snail flys into a tree, does it turn pink or will it eat chips?" You immediately hit him with your nonsense, no mercy. Azul stares at you in utter confusion. His face is one of uncertainty, and a touch of amusement as he tries to make sense of your question.
He settles on a response, but is not entirely confident in its truth. "I do not know, Pearl." He murmurs. "But what i know is that you should be asleep." You know he's right, but you also just wanted to have some fun. Azul gently pulls you back against his chest. He smiles at you warmly as he wraps your body in his arms.
He presses his lips to the top of your head. His hands come up to your hair, fingers threading through yours and gently stroking you, brushing them down your back to soothe your weary bones. "We can...discuss this tomorrow..." You just nod, snuggling up to him. Teasing him didn't work, but at least you got his affection.
Jade
Jade always sleeps lightly, so the tiny call of his name immediately wakes him. "Hmmm…" his voice is barely above a whisper as he wakes. He reaches out for you, his movements gentle, his eyes searching in the darkness for your body. "Mm...Guppy?"
"Do teeth grown on walls when they are covered in amnesia?"
The question catches Jade by surprise, his brow furrowed as he contemplates your words. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, his brow now a full-on frown as he tries to formulate an answer.
"No?" he says slowly, voice sounding like a question rather than an assertion. He furrows his brow even further, brows meeting in the middle of his forehead. "...You know...there are situations where i feel like Floyd rubbed off on you..." he says. "Ey-!" Jade lets out a tired chuckle before pulling you back against his chest again. "My little guppy...so dumb sometimes, hm?"
Floyd
His pale eyes snap open as soon as he recognizes your voice. "Shrimpyyy," he whines quietly, his voice quivering in his surprise from being pulled from his slumber. "Why'd wake meee?" he mumbles and pulls you closer and tighter against his body, at this point youre used to it. "Do ghosts twerk when you play them ladders and earth?"
As odd a question as it was (Floyd is too), he doesn't even flinch. Instead, he takes a moment to process it before nodding, his lips curling into a smile as he answers, "Of course! Everyone knows ghosts like to twerk." Floyd just starts to giggle in delight, wiggling you around happily, "Aww shrimpy i love you! You're so silly!" He gave you one last kiss on your head before his smile drops, "But we gotta sleep now, so you better behave and don't wake me up again." Though he is still a little unsteady from being woken up so suddenly, his strength still remains in his embrace. From the way he holds you, you can feel how much he loves you. He wants you close. He wants to keep you with him. Forever even.
Kalim
His brows furrow as his eyes continue to stay shut. But your voice was enough to rouse him.
"Hmm?" his lips part, but his voice is still hoarse with sleep, and he doesn't open his eyes yet. Before he can open them or even get remotely more awake, you attack him immediately. "How do i know if a bunny catches a goldfish in a storm of wandering suns?" His brows furrow even further as his head shifts toward your direction. That question did nothing to make any kind of sense to him.
"H-Huh?" he asks warily, his eyes slowly opening just as his brows are un-furrowing. "I- Um." He looks around, his thoughts scattered.
"Lemme ask Jamil real quick...Ja-!" "No-!" Befode he can wake up the poor exhausted second year who just got into bed, you shut Kalim with your hand against his mouth. "Shhh-" He keeps mumbling against your hand, before he choses to gently kiss the inside of your hand. "Tschul...pwease led me go" "Huh?" You raise your hand, "I said, Jewel, please let me go-!" Kalims arms wrap around you in an instant. He buries his face into your shoulder, seeking the warmth of your arms. All of the tension in his body seems to ease at once, replaced by the comfort that he feels when he is in your presence.
He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, the touch being all that he needs for him to be at peace. "Ahhh, I'm wide awake now..."
Jamil
His head tilts a little as the sound of your voice reaches his ears. His head turns in your direction. His breathing is shallow and steady, his eyes closed.
"Mm? What now?..." "Do dogs cry rainbows when they breath daisies on a sunday bell?" There's a moment of silence as your question registers in Jamils mind. The wheels are turning, and you can tell he's processing it.
Finally, he answers, "No, my love. Dogs cannot cry rainbows when they breathe daisies on a Sunday bell....now good night." "Oh-" you were taken aback by how fast and serious he answers. Probably used to it from Kalim. It takes him a moment to realize he should explain his answer. "Dogs are not... capable of...crying rainbows and certainly not when they breathe daisies on a Sunday bell. The latter is...quite nonsensical, actually." A hint of a smile tugs at his mouth, but the expression does not fully reach his lips, "As expected from you "
He waits, allowing a moment to pass to see if you have a response. "Good night Jamil...." "Good night."
Vil
(Bro would honestly kill you but---lets forget about that now-)
His eyes flutter open as he removes his sleeping mask.They blink slowly, fighting off the haze of sleep. And then, they fix on you.
"Yes?" He whispers. Vil is scared you might be in pain, or a different problem flared up. But instead you hit him with this nonsense.
"If a goose loves an ogre, do they drink pebbles in the moonlight?" His mind reels from this seemingly nonsensical question. His body is tense as a whip, his heart pounding in his chest. This feels like a trap, but his mind scrambles to find a response.
He opens his mouth, then stops. He tilts his head, then opens his mouth once more, stopping. He blinks, staring at you.
Then, his lips curl to a smile. "Yes they do," he affirms with complete certainty. "They drink pebbles in the moonlight. And you know what else they do?" "No?" God bless your innocence in this moment, "They never wake up one another when they have their beauty sleep and don't ask them stupid questions." "Oh-..."
Rook
The sound of your voice, however small and soft, stirs Rook from his "slumber". Rook is never truly asleep, a good hunter never rests. He cracks open his eyes, and his lips form a smile and part to form a word.
"Yes?" he excitingly says, though the word, meant hushed and quite, was more loud than expected. "Yesterday I saw a sheep kissing a well and singing it a waterfall because it couldn’t catch a pizza." Without missing a beat he answers, "What a marvelous story mon ange! Did you come up with it yourself?" You nod proudly, not using one braincell to come up with words in the first place is and accomplishment! "Oh, mon ange, would you tell me more about this loving relationship between this talented sheep and its well-lover?"
Rook responds by wrapping his arms tightly around you. He presses his body close to yours, his fingers kneading at you. His touch is gentle but firm. Time seems to slow down as you two press even closer against one another, and you come up with more nonsense to entertain him. The world fades away to oblivion as thoughts of every day concerns slip away and you two embrace the warm bliss of that moment.
Rook doesn't say anything. He only smiles with pure adoration at you and listens to every single word. He just holds you, his every atom focused on being near you. Like always.
Epel
"Epel, Epel, Epel, Epel, Ep-" said guy blinks a few times in an effort to fully awaken as he hears you call his name multiple times. He squints his eyes as he adjusts to the full moon lighting of his bedroom.
He blinks again, rubbing the weariness out of his eyes. "Yeah?" he mumbles softly, his voice still sluggish with sleep. "I just saw an owl wearing a hoddie and stealing a womans wig while the sky was skittles." Epel blinks a few times, trying to process the words you just conveyed. He opens his eyes wider and shakes his head.
"Sounds like you had one wild dream," he whispers as gently as possible, "But at least it wasn't a nightmare so...ya should probably go back to sleep now." Epel's voice is a murmur as he slowly leans down to kiss the top of your head. His cheek brushes against your hair as he nuzzles into the softness, and he takes a deep breath.
His gaze lingers on your face, studying your features as he pulls back slowly. "I'll watch over you so you won't have any strange dreams..."
Idia
The sound of your voice cracks through his mind, jolting him to attention. Idia jolts up from sleep, startled. The sight of you makes his heart skip a beat.
He blinks his eyes open, staring back at you for a moment as he reorients himself. His breathing is quick and shallow, but he steadies himself. "Is-Is something wrong?!" He sounds genuinely scared and worried for you, you almost feel bad about what you're gonna do. "Horses eat frames so they can fly faster to the basement of the Texas curtains."
"Cool" Idia says softly, and his eyes squint. He tilts his head, clearly not tracking your train of thought. His body is tense, his mind dense, on edge as he attempts to make sense of what you just said. "Babe...explain," Idia says, his voice a near whisper. He narrows his eyes, concentrating on your words.
His lips purse for a moment, and he shakes his head slightly. "Can't make sense...might call Ortho..."
Malleus
His chest freezes with a sharp inhale, and he opens his eyes. His heart pounds in his throat, a nervous flutter. "Yes!? Love? I'm here," he says, his voice hoarse from a few hours of undisturbed slumber.
He blinks a few times, rubbing his eyes as he looks up to you, sitting in bed. He wants to speak, but the words can't leave because you beat him to it.
"2 birds were fighting over a brush because it tastes like fries on a Tuesday afternoon." His eyes narrow as he tries to process what you just said. "Tastes...like... fries? on a... Tuesday?"
Confusion clouds his expression, and he cocks his head slightly to the side. Your lack of response only cements his uncertainty. Was that a question? A question you expect him to answer, or was it a joke?
His frown deepens and he clears his throat, "The old man once told me abouta thing called Hoocus Poocus (my stupid idea of google)" he says slowly, raising from bed and groaning like and old man with back problems before he walks over to his phone on his desk. "Maybe this can help...my love?...Do you recall how I alive this device?"
Lilia
The snore halts, the sudden outburst of sound startling him out of his sleep. He wakes up like a mother, with a loud gasp. His eyes shoot open as he bolts upright, and he stares straight at you with an anxious expression on his face. "Has the time finally come?" "W-What time?" "Where i may or may not have left a cake in the oven and it caught fire." He says it with such ease...like he did leave a cake in the oven to burn down the entire dorm.
"No-!....I just wanted to know if you can cactus me a cucumber." He stares at you blankly. Your request takes a few seconds before registering in his mind. A brief flicker of concern crosses his face, but it is fleeting as he realizes you are being facetious. Oh, how much he loves your stupid ass.
He lets out a small laugh. "I'll cactus you a cucumber tomorrow, dearest."
Silver
He is so used on your voice that even in his slumber, your words reach his core. When you call out to him, his breathing grows shallow and his eyelids begin to flutter a bit. His lips twitch again, and he turns his head slightly.
"Ahh...whatisit..." "I slept on a dentist with a horn and he fixed my hair with his light switch." Silver's eyes snap open at your words. You've caught him off-guard yet again. He stares at you for a long moment before he finally speaks.
"You slept...on a dentist..?" He's still half-asleep, his voice quiet and hoarse. "Princess, did you cheat on me?" A quiet, breathy laugh escapes his lips for a split second. Your words are nonsense, and he knows it.
He swallows down another laugh, biting his tongue in an attempt to stifle it as he sees your horrified face. "Shut up..." you mumble, why does no teasing ever work with him?
Sebek
"I'M AWAKE AND READY-!," Sebek is startled awake, sitting up quickly. His eyes open with an instant, and he glances around, his gaze settling on you. "HUMAN? YOU AWOKE ME BECAUSE SAVANACLAW FINALLY ATTACKED DIASOMNIA TO KIDNAPP LORD MALLEUS, RIGHT?!"
"......no but, a egg just gave birth to a basball and now his golf wife is mad."
Sebek blinks for a moment, his brain trying to comprehend your bizarre statement. His face twists, you can't tell if its anger or regret. Regret for ever letting himself catch feelings for you. You never heard him being so silent, cause even in his sleep hes loud...he snores.
"...Human?" "Yes?" "I will escort you back to ramshackle so you can spend the rest of the night in your dorm."
"Nooo-!" "Yes-ah-ey-let go of me-!" He gasps at the sudden embrace, and he stiffens as a flood of emotions rush through his heart. His arms hang loosely at his sides as he is swept into your warm embrace. There is no resisting it. No matter how much he trys, he will always love you no matter what.
He feels like he's going to melt.
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sugarlywhispers · 6 months
Text
Katsuki is trying—FUCK, he really is fucking trying not to make a sound, but it's way more difficult than what people think.
And when he hears the door to the hallway open, he immediately reacts covering his bed and himself, bringing the covers almost to his naked chest. He grabs a book that is in his nightstand and he pretends to the best of his ability to be immerse in reading that stupid book.
Two knocks to the door of his room can be heard and he fakingly sighs in annoyance as he says, "come in".
The distinctive red hair of his roommate appears first before his face, "Everything alright, man?" Kirishima smiles.
Katsuki rolls his eyes in real annoyance this time before replying a simple yes. He feels a thick drop of nervous sweat rolling down behind his neck that he is very skilled to hide by simply scratching the back of his neck, but it seems Eijirou hasn't noticed yet. The blond is very proud to admit that he is good at hiding. Stuff. And emotions.
The red head nods before saying, "Hey, Y/N is coming over for dinner. I don't want to bother you, but do me a favor? Be sweet to her. She kinda has a crush on you."
Katsuki pulls up an eyebrow, looking as oblivious as he can, "Oh, really? I had no idea..."
Eijirou rolls his eyes at his best friend, "Of course you didn't. You of all people wouldn't know even if she confessed right at your face."
Katsuki doesn't answer back.
"Anyway, I'm going out to buy some groceries. Need something?"
"Nope," he answers, his attention back to the book he is actually not reading. Eijirou nods as he closes the door again and walks out.
Katsuki doesn't dare to move until he actually hears the front door of the apartment open and close. And that's when he can't avoid the snort that it's stuck at his throat, waiting for desperate release. Next to him, the covers finally move as you peak from under them, frowning in annoyance at him.
"Shut the fuck up," you protest, your hair tangled all around, cheeks cutely rosy and sweat obviously thanks to the thick covers. He can't help but laugh out loud. "It's not funny!"
You try hard not to laugh with him as you climb up, straddling his hips, your glorious naked body making him distracted from his previous amusement. He sits up too, big and strong arms surrounding your waist as you interlace your fingers with his hair at the back of head.
You both smile at each other, your nose caressing his cutely, and he feels like eating you up.
"So you have a crush on me, hmm?"
"Shut up," you say, hips beginning to move to create friction between your naked bodies as your lips find his again. Tongues fitting to gain control as his hands travel down to your ass to guide you in your movements.
A crush? Oh dear... if Eijirou only knew...
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a.n; y/n and kirishima are best friends too. only katsuki and y/n are kinda(?) dating (?) fucking (?) fwb (?) lol idk 🙃
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
Note
👉🏼👈🏼 is it ok to request a fic where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does? like maybe hotch is away from a case and reader gets sick or sad or idk, so jack takes it upon himself to be there for reader? like maybe he even starts referring reader with the same pet name hotch calls her? tysm!
like dad does
aw 🥹 cw; fem!reader, established relationship, mentions of sickness, fluff <3
you awoke with a gentle start; a trail of cold water trickling down the side of your face, pooling vaguely in your ear.
likewise, a more concrete sensation was set on your forehead - a cold compress. most likely a washcloth, and one that hadn't been wrung out too much at that.
but it was relieving, a delightful contrast from your burning forehead.
"oops," a small mumble came directly from your left ear, as well as a soft exhale of a breath. "sorry."
"jack?" you muttered, rather drowsily. you forced your eyes open, finding jack's sweet, concerned face beside you. "what're you doing?"
"i'm taking care of you." he explained softly, his tone so nonchalant as if it were the most obvious and simplest thing in the world. he reached forward, adjusting the top of the blanket that was draped overtop you. "like dad does. he put the washcloth on you yesterday, you 'member?"
he was right; you were on day two, maybe three? of a nasty bout of the flu. quite honestly you didn't know what day it was, they all blurred together, and your scattered sleep schedule didn't help. you offered him a nod.
"thank you." you gave him a small, closed mouth smile. if it weren't for the germs, you'd reach out to touch his cheek. you sat up a bit from your position in bed, your voice hoarse. "where is your dad?"
"a meeting."
your eyebrows furrowed, the facial movement burning your sinuses. "he's home?"
jack nodded, "he's in his office, but he said it might take a long time. so that's why i'm helping you feel better."
his face brightened a bit, as if a realization struck him. he reached into his pant's pocket, retrieving a few cough drops he had shoved in there, dropping them onto your blanket covered chest.
"i'm sorry i can't make you soup." jack apologized, solemnly as his shoulders dropped. "but i'm not allowed to use the stove."
your face softened, the weak smile resurfacing. "that's okay bud, don't worry. you can help dad make some later when he's done, how 'bout that?"
he nodded enthusiastically, before hoisting himself onto your bed.
"hey no no no, i wouldn't," you protested gently, your heart also melting at his action. "i don't want you getting my germs."
"if i get sick i get sick." that's the same thing aaron had said, multiple times, when he insisted on getting into bed with you earlier. jack scooted somewhat close, staying mainly on his father's side of the bed.
"and if i get sick, i don't need to go to school."
you laughed softly, but finding yourself too weak to argue, you did the only thing you could - go right back to sleep.
it was restless; you were in and out of slumber, and could roughly process jack getting up here and there - solely due to the distant sensation of the washcloth leaving and returning to your forehead, dampened once more.
and once aaron's meeting had ceased, he went in to check on you, and was pleasantly surprised, and touched, to see jack accompanying you.
you were out, with jack diligently watching over, while also keeping himself busy - his sketchbook and colored pencils were scattered amongst the bed.
"how's it going?" aaron asked him from the doorway, the door producing a sharp creak as he pushed it forward a tad.
"good. i brought cough drops, the washcloth, and made sure she got lots of rest. just like you did." jack continued to draw as he spoke, before his head shot right up. "can we make soup?"
"sure buddy," aaron nodded, a tinge of pride pulling at his heart. he tilted his head towards the hallway, and jack immediately scrambled off the bed. "c'mon."
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imasimpforshanks · 6 months
Text
how they react when you randomly say “im so lucky to have you”
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ft. luffy, law, zoro, sanji, ace, shanks
a/n: idk what this is but I thought of it! And it’s been a while since I’ve written headcanons/imagines like this so this is kinda weird and badly written this time LOL
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with a giant grin plastered across his face, luffy’s response is instant and genuine, “im so lucky to have you too!” he laughs boisterous and bright as he continues, “that’s perfect isn’t it? im lucky to have you and you’re lucky to have me! we sure do make a great team.” you can’t help the way your body shakes with warm laughter at his sincerity.
there’s a moment of silence as law gathers himself. you think he didn’t hear you but then he coughs to break the silence and gain your attention. the tips of his ears are pink and he’s avoiding eye contact with you as he mumble his response, “yeah well, thanks for putting up with me.”
zoro pauses briefly turning to look at you with mild surprise. but before he’s even had time to fully process your remark, he finds his lips quirking into a smirk as you add on “i mean you are a bit of a moron, but you’re MY moron, ya know?” and with that he’s laughing the most he has in a while (but you’ve always had that affect on him, always made him feel things he didn’t think was possible), “you took the words right out of my mouth, dumbass.”
“my love,” sanji exclaims, “it’s me who should be considered the lucky one!” he gently reaches for your hand to bring it to his lips. he places a delicate kiss to each of your knuckles before continuing his sentiment, “i get to see your wonderful face and spend time with you each day. it’s far more than i am worthy of!” but then your eyebrows knit together and your lips are being pulled into a pout and sanji feels his love for you grow tenfold as you object to his statement, “you deserve all my love and affection!” and sanji concedes immediately because your word is law.
wordlessly, ace pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “you okay?” you ask, and the concern in your voice is enough to make his heart melt. “yeah, can we just stay like this for a little.” he whispers into your skin. you nod, understanding his need for this reassurance, “i mean it though, i really am lucky to have you.” and as you slowly run your fingers through his hair, ace whispers “i really really love you.”
a cheeky grin sneaks across shanks’ face “you sure are! i am pretty funny, sexy, caring, and intelligent.” you snort at his expected response, “not to mention humble.” he gasps in faux shock, “of course! how could I forget humble?!” as you burst into a fit of laughter so beautifully unrestrained shanks can’t help but think that out of the two of you, he is, most certainly, the lucky one.
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cherryredstars · 5 months
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Not sure if I’m doing this right since I’m new to tumbler :D but hi love ur writing followed you in an instant!
I was wondering if you could write something for a very low self esteem, inexperienced reader who goes to uni so is like 21 or something and is Miguel’s neighbor. They live in this building and their other neighbor is a rude lady who complains at the slightest Noise basically. she doesn’t dare bother Miguel but is always bothering the reader since reader can’t tell her to f off. Reader is just such sweet chubby lil cinnamon roll :(
Idk if I should have been less descriptive or more TvT; ?
Anyway hope you’re doing great :D don’t forget to hydrate ♥️
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1K Prompts
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Sexual Touching (With Clothes on), Slight Fluff
Summary: He helps you, you help him.
A/N: This is perfect, don’t worry, love!!!
Word Count: 2.4K (Not Edited)
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This is most definitely going to leave you a crying wreck in your bathroom later.
Your nerves were already on high alert with finally becoming independent and moving out of the college dorms, that pesky exam and assignment you procrastinated on working on, and your job has been firing and hiring people left and right. The last thing you needed was your cranky old neighbor, (it is crazy to think that you once thought she was going to be a kind old woman who would give you cookies when she was lonely), to come banging on your door with a  list of complaints and reasons why she could get you evicted. You do not know what to do, never being in this type of situation before. Honestly, you do not even know about half the things this woman is accusing you of. 
You can only stand there, hand tightly holding the door open as you try not to cry from stress. In your head, you are counting in an effort to make sure your breaths are coming out evenly. The last thing you want is to have a panic attack and have your neighbor add the threat of a mental hospital to the list. You nod along weakly to what she says, letting out whispered apologies that only seem to make her angrier. 
“You useless teenagers and your need to ruin good things, don’t think I forgot when you tr-”
“Is there a problem here?”
His voice is deep and smooth, causing the both of you to jolt. You visibly relax when you turn your head to find Miguel standing outside his apartment door. He has just gotten back from work and running errands, his lab coat draped over his arm as he holds paper bags in his arms. His hair is slightly tousled from the autumn breeze, and a few strands of his black hair are scattered with grey. His sweater hugs his arms and torso in a way that is mouthwatering, and you quickly look away when his eyes meet yours.
Miguel is the only neighbor you really know. He had helped you the first time you moved in, hearing the way you struggled to bring some things up to your apartment. He offered to help, carrying in boxes faster than you could into your apartment. When you had gotten furniture, he was happy to come over and assemble it for you. He is so kind to you, offering to help with a leaking pipe or to answer any of your questions about how to do something. You might have grown a slight crush on your neighbor, something that slightly freaked you out when you realized because of the obvious age gap the two of you have. You have not even finished college yet and he is in his mid-thirties working in a big corporate lab. 
Miguel clears his throat and you look back at him. He stares at you expectantly, totally ignoring the stuttering woman who tries to answer his question. He is only ever interested in what you have to say. You flush under his intent gaze, quickly shaking your head. You do not want to cause more problems, and you definitely do not want to have your cranky neighbor form a bigger vendetta against you. 
Miguel’s eyebrow raises, definitely catching the anxious expression on your face. He hums dismissively after a minute, eyes lazily trailing back to the older woman. His nose scrunches up slightly at the sight of her and he looks away again as the woman stops trying to defend herself. Miguel shrugs, the paper bags rustling with their contents. He turns to face you, once again ignoring the older woman. 
“Then you wouldn’t mind helping me put away my groceries, right? Can’t get my keys with my hands full,” Miguel speaks in a lazy drawl. 
You are quick to nod your head in agreement, stepping out of your doorway and closing the door. The woman steps back, a displeased look on her face as she watches you walk over to Miguel. Miguel keeps his eyes trained on you, watching everything you do. You are shy when you smile up at him. With your back turned towards the old woman, you mouth a ‘thank you’ to him. His eyes instantly snap to your lips, intently studying your exaggerated words. His eyes seem to darken for a second before he blinks and it is gone. His eyes trail back up to your eyes and he tilts his head slightly down. 
“Keys are in my pants pocket.”
You quickly nod, whispering out an ‘okay’. Your face burns as you have to get closer to him to not knock into his arms. The angle is slightly awkward, your hands slip into his pants pocket and your face burns from having your hand so close to his…thing. As you try to find his keys, Miguel looks down at you with a heated look. He watches silently for a few minutes before looking back up and over your shoulder to the older woman. His face is masked in indifference, maintaining eye contact with her until she fidgets and turns away without saying a word. 
At the same time she walks into her own apartment, you make a sound of victory as you finally retrieve his keys. You dangle them in his face with a proud smile, and he gives you an amused smirk. He steps away from his apartment door, giving you room to step in front of him and unlock his door. As you insert the key, you feel Miguel press up against your back. His warmth seeps into your spine and you are quick to bite your tongue so you do not let out a squeal.  
His breath tickles your neck and ear, warm and slightly minty. “What did I tell you about standing up for yourself, hmm cariño?”
The question rumbles with his voice and you have to hold your breath in order to not make an embarrassing sound. You turn to look at him over your shoulder and instantly regret it. He has not moved his face yet, and you are a breath away from him. If you leaned forward the slightest bit, your noses would be touching. You gulp nervously, and Miguel’s eyes trail down to your lips once again. He lets out a deep hum as you lick them nervously. 
“I- she’s not that mean to me.” You whisper out in the older woman’s defense. You cannot help the way your lashes flutter as you try to meet his eyes. 
Miguel scoffs at your defense, finally backing away from you. He shifts his hold on the bags, freeing his hand to turn the doorknob. Your hand is still there, and your breath hitches when his large hand encompasses yours. His hand moves both yours and the doorknob, making a combined effort to open the door. You are still watching him from over your shoulder, mouth slightly opened in awe. Miguel looks down at you, something playful in his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. 
“You’re blocking the doorway, cariño. The ice cream I got you is going to melt.”
Your blush returns from the pet name and you stutter out an apology as you rush inside his apartment. It’s warm, and you’re hit with the smell of him. You find the light switch and turn on the lights, flooding the whole place with a warm glow. Miguel follows you into the kitchen, placing the paper bags on the dining room table. He rummages through them, glaring at you when you try to grab one to start helping. His hands connect with something cold, and he pulls out a personal pint of ice cream. He hands it over to you and you turn it around to see the label. Your eyes instantly light up when you read the brand and flavor. Last week you had ranted to Miguel about how the grocery store did not have your favorite ice cream in stock as he was fixing a problem with your internet. The whole time he just hummed along, you did not actually think he was listening. 
He smiles softly at you as you beam up at him. He turns back to the groceries, sighing when he sees your hand reaching for the bags again. He turns to you with a bored expression. He gently removes your hands from the bag, telling you to go eat your ice cream before it melts. You grumble playfully under your breath, complaining about how you were supposed to be helping. He chuckles as he follows after you, getting a spoon out for you. 
“I thought the whole point was that I was supposed to help you put the groceries away, not eat them.” 
Your complaining is cut off by a yelp when Miguel grabs your waist. He lifts you up, putting you on top of the counter. Your eyes are wide as you look at him and his head nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You squirm slightly from his proximity. 
“You can help me by sitting prettily and keeping me company. Tell me about your day.” 
He pulls away then, returning to the dining room table and carrying a bag to the counter next to you. Your eyes are still bashful as you watch him, quietly opening your ice cream and beginning to eat it. Miguel starts to pull contents from the bag and looks over at you expectantly. Hesitantly, you begin to go through your day, easing into it the more you talk. You speak between bites of ice cream, half paying attention to Miguel as he walks around the kitchen to place things in their proper places. Occasionally, he looks over at you as you speak, his eyes trained on the way you place the spoon in your mouth and lick at the delicious treat. 
You are almost done when he puts the last thing away. He walks over to you as you continue talking absentmindedly, just finished slipping the spoon out of your mouth again. You stop talking when Miguel’s eyes drop to your mouth, his thumb coming up the swipe at your lower lip. When he pulls it away, a bit of melted ice cream is stuck to his skin. His eyes meet yours again when he brings it to his mouth, licking it away. He hums in appreciation for the taste. 
Your mouth drops open with a gasp as you watch, eyes trained on the pink muscle. You watch as his lips form a sly smile, and you blush as you look back into his eyes. But his eyes are still trained on your parted mouth, eyes dilated and hungry. He leans forward slightly, hand returning to rub at your bottom lip before he replaces it with his lips. He is not kissing you exactly, only sucking on your lip until it is swollen and red. He gives it a small nip before he pulls away, his hands falling to rub your thighs. It causes a small whimper to escape your mouth and Miguel basks in the noise. 
His hand seeps closer and closer to the area between your thighs, grabbing the carton of ice cream and moving it to the side. His hands hastily return to the area between your thighs, fingers brushing against your center. Your breath hitches and you look down to where his hands are. Your attention is snapped away when his gravelly voice meets your ears. 
“Continue with the story, querida. You don’t sound like you finished.”
You stutter over your words, the topic of conversation blanking from your mind. Miguel chuckles knowingly, his fingers continuing to brush up and down until they land on your clothed bud. He presses into it hard enough so you can feel it through the fabric of your pants and panties, gently reminding you where you left off. You nod nervously, hands snapping up to meet his shoulders as you feel wetness rushing into your panties. You stutter and choke on your words, eyes shutting as you rotate your hips sloppily into his hand. The movement is jerky, and you feel slightly embarrassed at how painfully obvious it is that no one has ever touched you like this before. But Miguel seems to like it, likes the idea that you’re untouched and he is the only person who has seen you like this. 
It gets even better when you make those soft noises, cutting yourself off and having to be reminded about what you were saying. Miguel continues his hand movements, pressing into you and rubbing and stroking. Your wetness has seeped through your panties, dampening the material of your leggings. If you were not lost in how good it feels, you would have been grossed out and uncomfortable. A weak call of his name escapes you and Miguel looks up from your cunt to look at your face. He hums in acknowledgement, watching as you try to pull his face closer to yours in a kiss. 
He swiftly avoids it, and you would have curled into yourself at the blunt rejection if you did not become distracted by his mouth suck and licking along your neck and jaw. Your mouth falls open with a moan, head leaning back to give him more room. He groans against your skin, fingers pressing tight circles to your clit. With a few hard circles, your back arches and your hold on him tightens. Gasping moans leave you and you feel the band in you snap, releasing more wetness into your panties as you finish. Miguel pulls his head away from your neck, keeping his fingers to your bud as you ride out the orgasm. Once you slump back down, he pulls his hands away. As you catch your breath, Miguel cleans up the mess on the counter. He reaches over, closing your melted ice cream and putting the spoon in the sink. 
You are still in a daze when he pushes the warm container in your hands, his own hands gentle as he lifts you off the counter. Your eyes are glossy in after-lust as he gently guides you out of his apartment and into yours. His warm hand leaves the small of your back, massaging your sides before he whispers a thank you into your ear for your help. You are only pulled completely out of your daze when you hear your door lock and close as Miguel leaves. You turn to look at the door, cheeks blazing as you clutch tightly onto your ice cream.
You are totally getting a noise complaint for that old woman tomorrow.
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Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4
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claypgeons · 9 days
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hii idk if you’ve done this already but can u make a ff about the team finding out that spencer reid has a girlfriend - idm if it’s at his house where they visit him and find you answer or if you go to his workplace , i wanna see their reactions tysm !!
summary: the bau team meets spencer’s secret girlfriend
cw: secret gf, fluff, awkwardness, fem!reader
notes: thank you so so much for requesting, hope you enjoy!!!
Spencer Reid wasn’t answering his phone, that was a bad sign. While Reid wasn’t a big phone guy, he always made sure to call back, or at least text back if he missed a phone call. So when Penelope called him, to let me know that she, and the rest of the team, were downstairs, waiting for him so they could drive up to the beach, as they had planned a couple days earlier; and he didnt answer, or call back, she got worried.
“What if he’s hurt?” was all she had to say before she and the rest of the team were making their way up Spencer’s apartment complex stairs and up to his door.
Derek knocked on the door, Aaron couldn’t help but reach up to where the gun would usually be placed, only to wince when he realized it wasn’t there.
“Shit!” Derek hissed, jumping back in shock. He turned around to everyone’s concerned faces, “There was someone there!” he pointed to the peephole.
Emily stepped forward to peek into the peephole, only to stop midstep when she heard the sound of multiple locks being unlocked.
The door opened to a woman standing awkwardly in a Hello Kitty pajama set. The team stared at the woman confused, she stared back. “I..” JJ tried, “I think we’re at the wrong apartment?”
“Oh.” the woman muttered, awkwardly taking a step back before slowly closing the door.
The team stood in silence for a couple of seconds, confused and disoriented. “What…” Emily sighed, looking at Hotch for directions, but he was just as lost.
That was until he heard the sound of his name being called behind him. Turning around, he was faced with the sight of Spencer Reid walking toward him, his arms full of grocery bags, his face concerned.
“Is there a case?” he questioned, pulling out the key from his back pocket, and opening the door that a couple of seconds ago had gotten shut in their faces.
“No?” Derek managed out, his eyebrows furrowed, he peaked behind the door, where he got sight of the woman who had then awkwardly crept back into the apartment. She was behind Spencer, peeking over his shoulder.
“Beach day,” Emily mumbled, walking into the apartment, now with Spencer’s permission. She watched Spencer whisper something into the woman’s ear, whose eyes widened in immense shock. “Remember?” she and the others sat around Spencer’s living room, shamelessly watching the woman.
Spencer looked back and forth between his found family and the woman he loved. With a hand on her back, he presented her like a prize. “I forgot about the beach. I’m sorry.” he didn't seem sorry, “But this is my girlfriend.” he gifted them your name, smiling once you spoke up, “I’m sorry for not introducing her sooner.” again, he didn’t seem sorry.
“I’m um, sorry,” you started with a frown, “For shutting the door in your face.”’ you pointed at the door with an awkward smile.
After a moment of silence, Derek spoke up with a chuckle, “Pretty boy doesn’t talk to his girlfriend about us?”
You smile at Spencer’s deep blush, “No he does.” you laugh, “But he’s very adamant about me not opening the door to strangers.”
Anyone would be in our line of work, Aaron thought but he decided not to ruin the mood, so he kept it to himself.
“And I didnt know what you guys looked like, so…” you trailed off, hoping you didnt just ruin your first impressions with Spencer’s closest friends.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetie!” Penelope took the lead, “It’s great to be cautious, do you want to join us at the beach?”
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norrizzandpia · 5 days
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this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!
Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)
Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.
Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol
Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx
If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.
“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.
Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”
Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”
When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.
Unknown Number
Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…
Y/n
Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.
The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.
Unknown Number
WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?
Unknown Number
YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN
Unknown Number
If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit
Unknown Number
LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE
Unknown Number
Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder
Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.
Y/n
You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!
His response was immediate.
Unknown Number
Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?
Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.
Y/n
*Image Attached*
Y/n
I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.
The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.
Unknown Number
Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.
Unknown Number
You are very pretty tho
Y/n giggled,
Y/n
Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.
Unknown Number
Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.
Y/n
How do I know this for sure?
Unknown Number
Trust me?
Y/n
Okay, ig. What’s your name?
The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.
“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.
However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.
Unknown Number
Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?
Y/n
I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)
Y/n
Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny
🏎️
The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.
Bob!
Good morning :)
Bob!
Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?
Y/n
Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.
Bob!
GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n
Y/n
Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol
Y/n
I live in London! What about you?
Bob!
Monaco
Y/n
Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?
Bob!
NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho
Y/n
Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.
Bob!
😭
Y/n
No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces
Bob!
Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.
Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.
She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.
Y/n
Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.
Bob!
Ok! text me when you’re free?
Y/n
yesss
There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.
Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.
Bob!
Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!
Y/n
sry, i just got home.
Bob!
Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??
Y/n
yeah
Bob!
Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you
Y/n
that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?
Bob!
you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times
Y/n
thats love fr
Y/n
but yeah its been a long day
Bob!
oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?
Y/n
Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.
Bob!
Talk to me about it then <3
Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.
Y/n
it’s ok. Thank you tho bob
Bob!
Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?
Y/n
no one?
Bob!
you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.
Y/n
We barely know each other.
Bob!
Do i look like i care?
She laughs and types,
Y/n
Bob, I don’t even know what you look like
Bob!
We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything
Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.
Y/n
People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?
There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.
Bob!
I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.
There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.
Y/n
Thank you. That means a lot.
Bob!
Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.
Y/n
When were you experiencing it?
Bob!
A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.
Y/n
You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.
Bob!
There’s not much to tell, Y/n.
Y/n
You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?
Bob!
I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.
Y/n
VAGUE
Bob!
Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs
Her eyes twinkle,
Y/n
Haha yeah right brotha
Y/n
That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.
Bob!
Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.
Y/n
You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?
Bob!
If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha
She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.
“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.
She breathes, “Bob?”
There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.
“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.
Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”
He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”
The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”
“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”
Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.
Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.
“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.
Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”
She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”
He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”
The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.
Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.
🏎️
“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.
“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.
Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”
Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”
Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”
“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.
Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”
Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.
“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.
Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”
“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.
Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”
Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”
Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.
“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.
“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.
Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”
He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”
She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.
Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”
Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”
“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.
Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”
Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”
Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”
As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”
Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.
Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.
“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.
Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”
Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”
Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”
Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”
“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.
Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.
🏎️
There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.
Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.
“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?
But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.
Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.
A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.
Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.
This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.
Robert Dancing does not exist.
🏎️
Unknown
Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?
Y/n
Everything is fine.
Unknown
Can I call you now?
Y/n
I’m busy.
Unknown
It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?
Unknown
Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?
Y/n
Stop messaging me.
Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.
Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”
She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”
Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”
“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.
“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.
Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”
A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”
A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”
“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.
“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.
He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”
She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”
“Y/n, I-”
She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”
A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”
Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.
He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.
What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”
With that, she hangs up the phone.
Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.
No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.
“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.
A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”
Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.
“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.
Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”
Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.
Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.
It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.
The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.
From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.
Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.
She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.
Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”
The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”
Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”
He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.
Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.
Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.
With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.
🏎️
The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.
She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.
He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”
It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.
When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.
“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”
The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.
The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.
The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.
He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”
Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”
He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.
Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”
“Y/n Y/l/n.”
He lifts his head slowly, “What?”
At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”
A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.
He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.
“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.
She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”
Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”
“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.
Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”
She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”
He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”
Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.
At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”
He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”
Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”
He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.
Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”
Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”
🏎️
The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.
Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.
So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.
“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.
A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”
Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.
When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.
Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.
He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.
He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”
He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.
The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.
Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.
“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.
She doesn’t know who he is.
He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.
“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.
Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.
“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.
“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.
“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.
Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”
What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.
“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.
She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.
“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.
“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”
Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”
He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”
Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”
Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”
Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.
“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.
He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”
Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”
His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”
She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”
He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”
Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”
Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”
She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.
🏎️
Y/n
Can you stop blowing up my phone
Bob <3
Why????? I’m bored baby
Y/n
im at work girly
Bob <3
girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me
Y/n
I think you might be obsessed with me
Bob <3
i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?
Y/n
girl
She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.
“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.
She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”
“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.
Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”
Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”
Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”
Lando hums, “An hour?”
“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”
Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”
She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”
He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”
“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.
He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”
She’d never get tired of saying it.
1K notes · View notes
bucks-babe · 5 months
Text
Friends Don't Lie
Paring: Bucky x f!reader
Summary: Wanting to know if your crush likes you, you go to Bucky for help, the only problem is, Bucky is your crush
Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, Smut (oral f receiving, p in v), unprotected sex (don’t do that), friends to lovers, crying, praise kink, soft!Bucky is a warning, Roommate!Bucky, Bucky calls reader kid just to piss her off for a bit but not when they’re doing the thang thang, no actual age gap though, no use of Y/N
Word count: Over 5k Idk what happened
A/N: This is my first ever fic so please go easy on me. If I missed any warnings, please let me know. Any and all mistakes are my own
Sighing, you walk into the apartment you share with Bucky. He’s sitting on the couch sporting his signature grumpy frown. Your heart beats that much faster when you lay your eyes on him. Honestly, you don’t know how he looks that hot with just a black t-shirt and jeans on. 
“Hey, what’s got your panties in a twist, Buck,” you chime as you plop down onto the couch next to him, now noticing the bottle of whiskey in his hands. He only glances at you before taking another swig of his whiskey.
“My panties aren’t in a twist, kid,” he huffs.
You cringe at the nickname he gave you. In all reality, you were only 3 years younger than him, but he knows how much you hate being called kid. In true Bucky fashion, he calls you kid all the time, just to get under your skin. “Really, then why are you drinking at,” you check your phone for the time before cocking your eyebrow, “2 o’clock in the afternoon?”
He completely ignores your question so you press on. “Well since you aren’t doing anything, I need your help.”
This seems to catch his attention just a little, “With what?”
“Well…” you trail off only to continue when you catch his eye, “I need some relationship advice and I can’t go to Sam about it because he is the worst.”
“I’m supposed to be good at relationship advice? I’m not the right person to come to, kid.” He replies, seemingly even more annoyed than he was before you walked into the apartment, and takes another swig out of his bottle.
You snatch the bottle out of his hand (ignoring Bucky’s Hey! That’s mine!) and take a swallow, “You know how much I hate being called kid, Buck. But yes, I need relationship advice”
“Why can’t you go to Sam about this; he seems to think that he is an expert at everything?” he practically whines as he rolls his eyes and leans back into the couch, spreading his legs and giving you a great view of his thick thighs in those jeans.
“Because, Buck, Sam will just make fun of me, and I know for a fact he cant help me with this.” To be fair to Sam, he would probably give you good advice, but he would make fun of you for your crush on Bucky.
“And I won’t?” Bucky scoffs before taking the bottle back from your hands. 
“Well, you would make fun of me, but Sam would never let me live it down, okay,” you can already feel your cheeks starting to heat up and regret seeping into your pores for talking to the very person you want to be in a relationship with about relationship advice.
“I think I already know who you need the advice about, don’t I,” Bucky turns his head toward you and cocks an eyebrow.
“What!” It feels like ice is coursing throughout your entire body. There is no way that he knows you're talking about him. “Uh… wh-who do you think I’m talking about?” Nice save, dipshit. You are mentally punching yourself in the face.
He takes one final gulp of his whiskey, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm, and sets the bottle on the coffee table, “I’m pretty sure I know who you have feelings for. The question is, do you really think you have a chance?” Oh my God - he knows and this is his fucking warning to walk away. Pretend like this never happened and leave - now
“Who-who do you think I’m talking about.” Wow, nice save. Always repeat the question, it never makes you look more suspicious. If he wasn’t onto you already, he sure as hell knows now.
“It’s rather obvious, don’t you think?” God you hope not, “Let me guess, Rogers?”Huh? an amused, little smirk appears on his face, blue eyes waiting for your reaction.
“St-Steve?!” Okay, not where you thought this was going but at least he doesn’t know you like him.
“You’re blushing,” he puts an arm over the back of the couch and crosses one leg over the other, “and stuttering. Seems like I was right, huh?” that stupid, gorgeous smirk is still on his lips.
“No! I do not have a crush on Steve Rogers! Ew, no. Why would you even think that, Buck?” Maybe you shouldn’t have had such a visceral reaction to him thinking you liked Steve, but you’ve never seen Steve as anything other than a great friend; however, once you started talking, you couldn’t stop. “I do like someone, Buck, but the thing is… well I don’t know how to tell if they like me back. I mean, every relationship I’ve been in has been so…so superficial. I would like them, but I don’t think they ever liked me, you know? It was always about the sex and what I could give them.” Shut up Shut up “This is why I need your help. I’ve never had someone like me for me and I don’t know how to tell if what I feel for this guy, who is most definitely not Steve, is reciprocated.” Why are you still talking?!
“Calm down, kid,” Bucky’s hands on your shoulders cut you off from your rant. The smirk is gone from his face, replaced with a look that is slightly less grumpy looking than his normal face. “It’s only me, remember? I’m sure whoever this guy is, he likes you for who you are, kid.” He once again leans back against the couch.
Your scoff brings the smirk back to his face, which is now more annoying than pretty.
“You know what, I think I’m just going to go to bed.” As you go to get up from the couch, Bucky grabs your wrist and pulls you back next to him, much closer than you were before.
“Who is it, kid? I can help you, only if you tell me who it is.” It feels like he is staring into your soul, like he can see right through you and you hate it. Fear bubbles up inside of you.
“Why do you need to know who the guy is, huh? I need advice and you said you would help me.” He’s getting too close to the truth; if he keeps pressing the matter, he’s going to find out that it's him you like, and that will not end well. You can feel the heat coming off of his body just like his stare is heating your cheeks.
“Kid, just tell me who it is you like and I can help.” He leans forward in his seat and you can tell that he is getting pissed off. Maybe you're reading too much into the situation, but Bucky might be getting mad because he likes you? Impossible.
“Help how? Do you know who likes me?” Smooth 
“I can tell you if this guy, who isn’t Steve, likes you, I just need a name first, kid.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest, making it very clear that he is not happy with how the conversation is going.
“Wait! You do know if someone likes me!” You’re desperately clutching at straws to keep his attention off of who you like, knowing that it’s fruitless.
“Yeah, I do. But right now I don’t care because you still won’t tell me who you like.” Bastard! That stupid, pretty smirk is back and he knows he won.
“I’ll make you a deal, you tell me who already likes me, and I’ll tell you who I like.” 
“Deal.” Rolling his eyes, Bucky finally leans back and it feels like you can catch your breath again. “It’s Sam, he likes you, kid.” Bucky knows that he is lying through his teeth, but he is a great liar and this will get you to tell him who your crush is.
“Sam?” You can’t help the way your face falls or the disappointment in your voice. You knew it was a long shot, Bucky liking you that is, but he didn’t even bat an eyelash when telling you that Sam of all people liked you.
“Yep,” he pops the p. “Sammy boy likes you. Now, who do you like?” He can’t even pretend to care about throwing Sam under the bus or who he will now hate for the rest of time for taking his girl from him before he could make you his.
“Uh… it’s Sam. Yep…Sam. I like Sam, so this actually works out really great… thanks, Buck.” It sounds like a lie even to your own ears, let alone to Bucky’s.
“Come on, kid. Spit it out.” Somehow Bucky’s final braincells piece together your reaction. You like him. That is the only explanation as to why you won’t tell him who you like. “Kid, do you like me?”
You start to choke on your own spit and if you weren’t blushing before, you definitely are now. “Wh-wh-what? You? No!”
Bucky’s eyes light up just a fraction and his right hand cups your chin. “You like me, kid.” It’s not framed as a question, but rather a statement. Maybe it was the whiskey finally taking effect, but he tilts your head so you are looking directly at him and your breath hitches in your throat. “I like you, too.” It’s a whisper, but it pulls you out of your stupor.
You wheel back and jerk out of his grasp. “That’s not funny, asshole. Who said that I liked you?”
“Me.” Was his only response. “Didn’t you hear what I said, kid? I like you, too,” a chuckle left his lips.
“That is not funny, Buck. Don’t play with my feelings like that.” You don’t know why, but you feel tears begin to well up in your eyes. For a second, you thought that Bucky liked you back, but this was all some cruel joke. Of course Bucky was just messing with you.
“Hey, kid, look at me. Don’t cry.” The smirk on his face is gone, leaving only concern; this is worse, those pretty eyes looking at you with pity. “I wasn’t joking. I actually like you back, okay.” Guilt bubbles up in his chest when he sees tears fall down your cheeks. “Aw, sweets, you’re too pretty to cry.” He coos, wiping your tears with his thumbs.
“What did you just call me?” The pet name seems to bring you back to the moment. You’ve never heard him call anyone sweets, and the name made you feel special inside.
“Huh?” Now it is Bucky’s turn to be confused.
“You called me sweets, not kid.” You tilted your head, feeling your heart rate pick up.
“Well, it would be a little weird if I called you kid when I do this.” His face was only centimeters away; you could feel his breath on your lips. He was waiting for you to give the all clear, a sign that this was okay. You were the first one to make a move, closing the gap between you two. 
When your lips connected, you let out an involuntary moan; you’ve dreamed about kissing him and what he would taste like but nothing could compare to the real thing. He tasted of the whiskey he was sipping on and something distinctly Bucky that you couldn’t put your name on, but frankly you didn’t care when he was kissing you so good.
With his hands still on your jaw, he tilts your head to where he wants it, making you gasp. His tongue enters your mouth and now it’s his turn to moan. One of his hands falls down to your thigh and he pulls you into his lap, not breaking the kiss.
You were the first one to pull away, regrettingly, but you needed oxygen and as much as you wish you could breathe him in, it wasn’t possible to sustain life. You wrap your arms around his middle and bury yourself into his neck, and the arm around your thigh travels up to your waist, while his other hand goes to the back of your head.
“Hey, easy, sweets. I can barely breathe.” You can feel more than hear Bucky’s chuckle, but you only bury yourself deeper into his shoulder, feeling a sudden rush of emotions. Never in a million years did you think that Bucky would kiss you, or that you would be on his lap. “Are you okay, sweets? Come on, talk to me.” Bucky can feel how tense you are on top of him, and it makes him worry.
Once again, there are tears in your eyes. At this point, you don’t know if they ever went away, “I just never thought that you would like me, you know?” The hand on your head doesn’t try to pull you away, but rather massages where it lays.
“Well, I do, sweets, so you’re gonna have to get used to me. How about that?” You just nod into his shoulder and wiggle deeper into his embrace. Bucky lets out a low groan and the hand on your back drops down to your hip, holding you in place. “You’re gonna have to stop moving, sweets.” You can feel the hard bulge in his pants from you moving around, causing a giggle to leave your lips, the tears once again subsiding.
“Oh, you think this is funny, huh, kid?” He brings back the nickname just to tease you and you know it.
“Hey! I’m sitting on your dick right now, please don’t call me kid, Buck.” Bucky throws his head back and the most beautiful laugh leaves his mouth. He’s laughing so hard that you are slightly bouncing on his lap and your core hits the raised zipper of his pants. A whine leaves your lips while his laughter turns into a choked groan.
“Fuck, sweets, come here.” He pulls you back in for another kiss while he leans back into the couch. Involuntarily, your hips grind against his and he is swallowing your moans in his mouth.
You sit up a little and pull him up with you. Tugging at the bottom of his shirt causes him to break your kiss, “You want my shirt off, sweets?” You can only whine in response and tug on it again, but Bucky isn’t helping you take his shirt off until you speak.
“Please, Buck.” God you’re already out of breath and he’s only kissed you.
“That’s a good girl. See that wasn’t so hard was it?” Oh fuck. A high pitched moan leaves your throat at his praise. Bucky chuckles, he’s found your praise kink and he’s not going to let it go now.
He takes pity on you and takes his shirt off, but doesn’t give you time to ogle at his shirtless body before his hands are underneath your hoodie, warm palms running up and down your naked skin. “Can I take this off, pretty girl? Can I see my pretty baby, huh?” You nod your head so fast you make yourself slightly dizzy, but he makes no move to actually remove your top, waiting for you to speak.
“Yes, Bucky. I want you to take it off please.” A hum of approval leaves him as he takes your hoodie off.
“Fuck,” it comes out under his breath when he sees you in just your bra and pants. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You know that? You know how pretty you are?” Fuck, you can’t do this. He’s saying the things you always wanted him to say to you, but now you don’t know how to handle it. He lays you down on the couch and you can feel the outline of his hard cock through both of your pants.
When his hand goes up you back to your bra, your brain goes into overdrive. “This isn’t just sex, right?” You need this to mean something to him too. It can’t just be sex; you can’t do just sex. It would break your heart.
Bucky chuckles a little before giving you a chaste kiss, clearly missing your desperation for it meaning something more. “Let me show you how much you mean to me, sweets? Let me make you feel good.” His hands are on your leggings, fingers in the waistband. 
“You won’t leave me after, right? You’ll stay with me?” God, are you crying again? This might be your only chance to be with him and you’re blowing it! The crack in your voice gets his attention and his hands leave your bottoms to cup your face once again, thumbs wiping your tears.
“Hey, sweets, look at me?” You meet his eyes; they are filled with a softness you’ve never seen from him before. “Of course I won’t leave you. I just got you, and now you’re going to be stuck with me for a very long time, okay, sweet girl? You’re mine and I’m yours.” He rests his forehead on yours after kissing all of your tears away.
“You’re mine?” 
“All yours, okay?” After you nod, he pulls you back up so you're sitting on his lap and holds you close to his chest. “How about we just calm down for a little bit, okay? I didn’t mean to push you too far, sweets.” He’s so perfect. How did you get him?
“No. I’m okay, it’s just that…well I don’t want you to leave me after you get what you want, Buck.” This is so unsexy; there is no way he is going to want to sleep with you now
“Look at me, sweets.” You look at him, “Good girl.” Fuck. “I want you. Not just your body. I want to take you out on dates and annoy all of our friends with how cute we look together. I want it all.” He’s looking into your eyes with such sincerity that it feels like you could break and all of your doubts leave your mind.
You grind your hips against his still hard cock, “Will you make love to me, Buck?” 
He groans lowly before gaining his composure again, “Are you sure, sweet girl? We don’t have to do anything, you know that?” But you want to, so bad.
“I know and I’m sure I want you.” He’s looking into your soul; he never wants to hurt you. “Please?” It’s the doe eyes that break him and he picks you up and carries you to his room like you weigh nothing.
“I’m gonna make love to you, sweet girl. If you want me to stop, just say the word, okay? But I promise it won’t change how I feel about you.” He is looking into the depths of your soul, making sure this is what you want; there is nothing you want more in this moment than Bucky finally loving you.
Instead of a verbal response, you wrap both your arms and legs around him so his whole body is on top of yours on his bed and you kiss him again. You are surrounded by everything Bucky; his room smells so good that you want to spend forever in it with him. 
Calloused palms slide up your back to meet the clasp on your bra and Bucky breaks the kiss, staring at your swollen lips before catching your eye, “Can I take this off, sweets?” Taking your bra off swiftly after he hears your breathly ‘yes,’ his hands find purchase on your ribs.
“Fuck,” his groan makes you attempt to close your legs to find some release, but his waist stops your legs from moving even an inch. “Your tits are absolutely gorgeous, you know that? God, sweets, do you feel how hard you make me? This is all for you.”
You arch your back, pushing your breasts further into his field of view, gasping when his right hand cups your breast, tweaking your nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. 
“Please, touch me, Buck!” You already sound cock drunk and he hasn’t even done anything to you, but you can’t find it in you to care. 
Cocking his head to the side and chuckling, he whispers in your ear, “I am touching you, sweets.” That son of a bitch! “Where do you want me to touch you, huh?”
You grab his unoccupied hand and lead it down to your pants but he doesn’t budge, refusing to touch your clothed pussy. “Touch you where, sweet girl? I need words or I can’t please you.” 
Cheeks heating up, you finally give up, just wanting him to touch you, pleasure you, anything. “My pussy, Bucky! Touch my pussy!”
“Atta girl. I knew you could do it.” How does he know all the right things to say?
He leaves a trail of kisses from your neck, to your chest, down your belly, until he reaches the hem of your leggings; looking up at you, waiting for your permission, “Take my pants off, please.”
Another wave of slick goes straight to your core when he whispers, “Such a good girl, using her words,” as he takes your pants off, leaving your panties on your core. Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet in my life.
Bucky’s thumb goes up and down over your pussy, slightly pushing down over your entrance, making your panties that much wetter, then sliding his thumb up to your clit. Your thighs unconsciously tighten around his head and hips jerk up when he does it again, and again, and again.
Breathy moans and gasps leave your lips before he gently pushes your thighs back with a small chuckle, and pushes your panties to the side, getting his first glance at the pussy he has been dreaming about. 
“Such a pretty pussy to match the prettiest girl in the world, don’t you think?” He doesn’t wait for a response this time, instead his mouth latches onto your clit and the moan that leaves his mouth is almost louder than your own. 
He can’t bring himself to pull away for a single moment, rather speaking into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your entire core. A small huff leaves his lips when your thighs wrap around his head again; he’s going to make sure you stay put right where you are so he can keep licking your pussy until he is satisfied. He laces both of his hands with yours when you reach down toward him, because you need to be able to ground yourself.
So lost in your own pleasure, you almost don’t notice that Bucky is grinding against the bed, desperate for any type of friction, dick being the hardest that it has ever been. He’s sure that he could blow his load at any moment, but he wants this to be good for you, needs it to be good for you, so he is holding back with all his might, but fuck if he can’t stop moving his hips he won’t make it inside of you. And the sounds that are coming out of your mouth are making it almost impossible for him to do that.
Your thighs clamp around his head somehow even harder when you feel your orgasm approaching, effectively suffocating Bucky. He doesn’t care; he can breathe when you come on his tongue. You don’t even have time to announce that you’re going to cum before the strongest orgasm of your life rips through you. Bucky’s muffled moans are even more distant over the blood rushing through your ears, eyes finding purchase in the back of your head, you don’t know if you went silent because the orgasm knocked all the wind out of your, or if you are going to get a knock on the door from the police because they think you’ve been murdered.
When Bucky comes back up for air, the whole of his lower face is covered with your slick, and that gorgeous smirk is back on his face. “Thank you, sweet girl. That was amazing.” Did he cum, too? Please don’t tell me I missed seeing his face when he cums.
Seeing your dilemma, Bucky chuckles, “Don’t worry, sweets, my cock is still rock hard for you. Although, I did almost cum watching you. You have no idea how pretty you look when you cum.” You’re too fucked out to even be embarassed at how easily he can read you, or his knowledge of how much you want his cock.
While you're still coming down, Bucky finishes taking off your panties and the rest of his clothes. The moment he pulls his jeans and boxers down and his cock springs up, you gasp. You’ve never seen a prettier cock in all of your life: thick and long with a vein that you want to spend hours licking goes from base to tip, flush head partially covered by his foreskin, heavy and full balls that you know wouldn’t even be able to fit in your mouth rest at his base.
Your eyes never leave his cock as he climbs back into bed, salivating at the way it bobs as he walks and the precum dripping from his tip. “Can I suck your cock, Bucky, please?” Damn, you’ve never begged to suck a cock in your life.
Moaning at the way it twitches at your begging, you reach out for it but Bucky stops you.
“Next time, sweet girl, promise. I need to be inside of you right now and I won’t last if I let you do that, okay, sweets?” You whine in disappointment but nod nonetheless. You groan and wiggle your hips when he is finally on top of you again and you feel his cock slide up and down your pussy.
“Can I have it, Bucky? Can I have your cock?” Bucky looks like he is about to blow a fuse as he grips the base of his dick to stop himself from cumming.
“Sweet girl, you’re gonna have to stop saying things like that if you want this to last.” He is lining up with your entrance and you immediately shut your mouth. There will be another time to be a brat and tease him, but right now you need his dick.
“I’m ready, Bucky, I want it.” Your breath catches in your throat when his tip slides in, for all the staring you did a few minutes ago, you vastly underestimated how fucking big his dick was and now it feels like you’re being spilt in two - in the best way.
“Shit! Sweets, you’re so -fuck- you’re so tight. Choking my dick so good, baby fuck. Best pussy I’ve ever had and I’m only halfway in.” He’s mouthing at your neck while you're grabbing onto anything you can.
“Please, Bucky, more! Fuck, I want it.” You feel like you could cum again just at the sheer stretch of his cock inside of you, his deep groans spurring you on. 
As he bottoms out inside of you, you feel the heavy weight of his balls against your ass, twitching wildly as he tries to stave off his own orgasm. “Oh god, you’re so fucking warm. Fuck, feels like I’m gonna blow before I even move. Shit!” Bucky is so pussy drunk he can’t even think straight, but fuck if you don’t love it. 
“Please move, Bucky, please, I need you to fuck me, please!” You weren’t fairing much better, cock drunk out of your mind.
Bucky is scrambling against the sheets, trying to be closer to you somehow, as if having his impossibly thick length inside of you wasn’t enough, he wraps your legs around his waist as he starts to rut into you.
He is barely pulling out of you, not that you would let him go very far anyway with how tightly your legs are wrapped around him. “Pussy is so fucking good! I just wanna stay here forever, sweets. You want that to, fuck, huh? You want me to stay in this little pussy?”
Clawing at his back, you were a babbling mess, crying out for him, never having been in so much pleasure before. “Yes, Bucky, I want that so bad, yes.” Tears were welling up in your eyes from the sheer amount of pleasure that you were receiving from Bucky. 
Rutting into you faster, his hand slid between your bodies and thumb rubbing your clit in fast circles, Bucky’s calm demeanor was gone, now he was begging for you to cum with him.
“Come on, sweets. I need -fuck- I need you to cum for me. I need to feel your little pussy cum on my cock.” His balls were slapping against your ass, making a vulgar sound, as they were covered in your slick that had trailed out of your pussy.
“Can feel you clenching around me, pretty girl.”
“Need you to cum first, please.”
“Want you to soak my cock.���
“Be my good girl and cum.”
Maybe it was the good girl, but the second orgasm that tore through your body was even better than the first and the clenching of your pussy sent Bucky over the end, into his own orgasm.
“Fuck, sweet girl, I’m gonna cum for you. I got so much fucking cum and it’s all for you. Shit, I’m cumming!” You felt his cock twitch once, twice, and balls pull up before his cum was coating the inside of your pussy.
After you both came down from your highs, Bucky slowly pulled out, catching the wince that left you at the emptiness of your cunt. “Sweet girl, I’m going to get a cloth to clean you with and some water, but I’ll be right back, okay?” Bucky wanted to make sure that you knew that he was coming back, that he wasn’t like all of those other assholes who didn’t treat you right.
Your faint ‘okay’ was the green light for Bucky to dash to the bathroom to clean himself up, get a rag for you, and then head to the kitchen to get a glass of water for you. He paid special attention when wiping you clean, not wanting to overstimulate you after having multiple orgasms.
He helped you sip your water before covering you both up and holding you close to his chest. Never in your life had you felt so safe and loved than you did at this moment, wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, confident that he would stay with you even after having sex with you. 
“You know that I love you, right, sweet girl? And I’m not going anywhere.” He whispered into your hair.
“I do now. And I love you, too, Buck.”
After a little while, you raise yourself on his chest a little so you can look into his eyes, “Hey, Buck?”
“Yeah, sweets?” No one has ever looked at me with so much love.
“Does Sam actually have a crush on me?” Bucky throws his head back into the pillows with an exaggerated groan while you try to muffle your giggles. For once, you actually have what you’ve always wanted.
3K notes · View notes
stxrslut · 27 days
Text
Rafe x chronicmigraine!reader headcannons
🎀 I feel like he’d be so so in tune with you, waking up one morning while you’re still asleep and he can just see your eyebrows furrowed in premature discomfort.
already getting up and fetching your painkillers, ice pack, sick bowl, snack, and anything else he deems you’ll need. making sure to be quiet while he dims the lights and shuts all 4 blackout curtains.
when you start waking up he’s kneeling right there, already rubbing your temple gently as you let out a cry, “hey hey, I know sweetie, you’re okay.”
🎀 he definitely gives you chocolate syrup after you’ve swallowed a pill cause he knows you hate them and the way they taste.
🎀 Idk about you guys but whenever I have a migraine I will literally be vomiting at random times with no warning.
feel like Rafe has absolutely dad reflexes when it comes to it tho. just randomly appearing with a bowl under your chin, pulling your hair back, instructing you to “open your mouth sweetie. you got it.” as he starts to run a hand up and down your back. and you’re just like ?? how tf did u know.
🎀 cupping the back of your head when he makes you drink water!! and best believe he’s setting a timer every fifteen minutes so he doesn’t forget to remind you!!
🎀 if you ever get a migraine in public and there’s not really away to get you out of there he is mad at the world. snapping at everyone but you.
just finding the most secluded place he can and holding you to his chest so your eyes are covered, big hands over your ears to try and make you as comfortable as possible while you just cry cause you’re in so much pain :( talking to you in that soothing voice he reserves only for his favourite girl.
🎀 he’s definitely getting up at whatever time in the night to get you some warm milk to soothe you. also replacing your heat / ice pack while he’s there.
🎀 he loves you so much. he is the most patient, never complains. he is always always understanding, will always do everything to help you.
you are Rafe Cameron’s soft spot.
1K notes · View notes
saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LOVE EXPERT — NEUVILLETTE.
contents. established relationships, it’s literally just teaching neuvillette how to cuddle bc he doesn’t understand humans sobs :(, also idk how to write him yet. i apologize i tried my best. i’ll get it soon i swear
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“come here,” you tug neuvillette by the arm, shuffling closer, “i want to try something.”
neuvillette, for all his brilliance, doesn’t understand human customs—you can’t help but find it hopelessly endearing.
he doesn’t understand the concept of bringing you flowers. you’ve never minded, never mentioned it until one day, lady furina teases that he’s never brought you so much as a single rose. he questions you that day, innocent and curious and just a bit confused, if it’s normal to gift flowers, if they mean anything special. so you chuckle, kissing between his brows as you explain to him. he brings you them regularly from then on.
one time, he notices a couple holding hands, eyeing their intertwined fingers and swinging arms—you watch in amusement as he studies them for a while, watch him simmer in his thoughts before you chuckle and grab his own hand, squeezing gently. he makes sure not to let go for the rest of the day, making a point to tangle your fingers and guide you through the city. you realize after that day that he’s probably never felt someone’s body so close to his—and you decide you’ll have to change that.
“what…what are you doing?” he asks, looking at you confused. for a second you think he might be uncomfortable, and then you realize he really doesn’t know.
he’s certainly the most unique man you’ve ever dated.
“i’m cuddling you, of course,” you grin, resting your head against his sturdy chest as your arm loops around his neck. he sits stiffly on the couch, as if it’s his chair in the court, as if he’s not here to relax.
“and that is…?” he raises an eyebrow.
you giggle, shaking your head as you lean up and kiss his cheek affectionately. he’s adorable—quite uninformed about romantic affairs, but adorable all the same. and he tries his best, just for you.
“we hold each other, like this—” you explain, taking his arm and wrapping it around yourself. you shuffle closer, pressed tightly against his body as your hand finds his chest, “—and it’s romantic.”
“i see,” he nods, “i think…i think i understand.”
you’re pretty sure he does not understand—you chuckle to yourself as his forehead is still covered with those crinkles from his furrowed brows, the gears in his head working to try and figure out what makes you crave this. and then you start to rub circles into his chest, and the tension melts instantly from his shoulders…and then he thinks he does understand.
“isn’t it nice?” you murmur, cheek pressed against where his heart is as his hand lays on your hip—it’s warm, he thinks. you’re warm, and you’re close, and he can feel your heart beating from being so near. “we get to just feel each other, you know? and not worry about anything else.”
“but…your worries won’t disappear simply by holding—”
“oh, neuvillette,” you huff, “you always take things so literally. just relax, would you?”
“i’m sorry,” he says genuinely, as if he’s offended you by not understanding your cuddles. you look up at him fondly, cupping his cheek as you stroke a thumb over the soft skin.
“you don’t have to apologize, silly,” you peck his lips, trying to hold back the laugh that bubbles through your throat. and, if you’re not mistaken, you think there might just be a faint pout tugging at his corners of his mouth.
“now you’re laughing at me,” he frowns.
“i’m not,” you insist, smiling teasingly, “i just find you adorable, is all.” and then, as your head finds its way back to rest on him, you add, “it’s just nice to have someone close. to know they’re right here with you. does that make sense?”
“yes,” he smiles softly, “i suppose it does.” and then his hand starts to mimic yours, rubbing those slow, careful circles into your hip just like you do against his chest. “i enjoy having you close. your presence is comforting.”
“you’re catching on,” you tease, grinning brightly, “pretty soon you’ll be an expert at love.”
“i’m not so sure i’m quite there yet,” he chuckles, but his cheeks are dusted a light shade of pink.
you think you fall deeper in love right there—there are so many feelings neuvillette doesnt understand, but you’ll help him. slowly but surely, you’ll teach him by loving him in between every emotion so that it’s easier.
“i think you’re doing great,” you say softly, “i love you, y’know.”
he knows he understands this much for certain when he replies, “i as well, love you. very much.”
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guys he’s literally just a weepy dragon are u kidding me we have to coddle him i accept nothing else
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redstarwriting · 11 months
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bestie
spider squad x black cat!fem!reader
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request?: yes
request: “hi! okay i love your works and my brains been rotting thinking abt this lol. i was wondering if i could request a black cat variant! reader that somehow (idk how sorry ), she's apart of the spider-society? Given that black cats backstory isn't all that nice, maybe she has a deal W miguel to let her stay if she makes sure she uses her skills to help the society instead of stealing? and how the squad(miles, gwen, pav, hobie) meet her in the society?”
requested by: anon​
word count: 2.1k
genre: platonic and chaotic LMAO
Warnings: language, stealing, bad Spanish, slight Gwen crush if you squint but also like not really
A/N: STOP I LOVE WRITING PLATONIC AND CHAOTIC THINGS!! i did change up the prompt a bit as they didn’t meet her in spider society necessarily (even though the did, they just didn’t know it lol) i hope you enjoy this anon! also if anyone wants to knows some of the specific songs that gave me black cat 2099 vibes lemme know 👀 i’ll make a post
pt ii - becoming hobie’s bestie
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Gwen, Miles, Pavitr, and Hobie were called to “the principal’s office” as they started calling it. So here they are, in front of Miguel, waiting to be reprimanded for something they did. “I have a mission for the three of you,” he says, pointing to Miles, Gwen, and Pav. “Hobie, you’re not needed.”
“Like ‘ell I’m not,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Miguel subtly smiles to himself. Reverse psychology. Works every time.
“Wait, what?” Miles asks, eyes wide. “You aren’t gonna yell at us for existing?” Gwen asks, equally as surprised. Miguel rolls his eyes. “For existing? When have I ever…” he trails off as Pav, Hobie, and Gwen point at Miles. 
And Miles points at himself. 
“Dios mío,” Miguel mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. I’m not doing that. This time.”
“What’s the mission then? Are we going somewhere new? Oh! Can I bring back a souvenir?” Pavitr asks, excitedly. “No, but I’m sure you’ll end up with some sort of souvenir regardless,” Miguel grumbles, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “Well, what do you mean by that?” Gwen asks and Miguel types into his computer. A picture of a girl pops up on the screen. “I need you to bring me her.”
“Uhhh what? You want us to bring you a… civilian?” Miles asks, and Miguel nods. “She’ll respond to you all better. You’re the same age,” Miguel says, and they all glance at each other. “Can you not be secretive for like, a couple of seconds? Is she an anomaly?”
“No, Gwen. Just bring her to Spider Society, please. She’s from this universe, so I’m just sending you to where I need you to go,” Miguel says, opening a portal for them to go through. They all glance at each other before Gwen shrugs, walking through the portal. Miles and Pav follow her, and Hobie rolls his eyes following the three of them. They find themselves… at a show? They’re on top of the catwalk in a stadium show, looking down at the audience. “What the hell?” Gwen mumbles and Hobie is intrigued when he sees the instruments on the stage. “Now why did he send us to a concert?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. Right at that moment, the lights go down and everyone starts to scream. “So, you think she’s in the crowd? How are we supposed to find someone in all of these people?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. “I can do it, easily,” Pav says, and Miles and Gwen give him a Look™. “What?! It’s simple you just look for her face! Miguel showed us a picture of her.”
“Aye, ‘e’s right. Found her,” Hobie says, and they all look at him. He’s pointing, and they follow his finger. “SHE’S THE SINGER?!” Gwen yells as the music starts. “Yeah. Guess we gotta wait for the set to finish,” Hobie says, shrugging and sitting on the catwalk, “Gettin’ a free show outta this shit at least.”
“Oh, please, every show you’ve ever been to has been free,” Gwen says, sitting next to him, taking her mask off. Hobie, Pav, and Miles all follow suit. “What does Miguel want with a singer?”
“I like her outfit,” Pav says, ignoring Miles’ question and sitting next to Gwen. Miles quickly slips between Pav and Gwen, shooing him away slightly. “Not my style. Lyrics ain’t bad,” Hobie says, leaning back and observing the performance, “She can sing, I’ll give ‘er ‘at.”
“I fuck with it. Lyrics speak to me,” Gwen says, and Pav nods. “She seems angry.”
“Yeah, that’s why I can respect what she’s doin’. Threatenin’ and angry music is cool,” Hobie says, bobbing his head up and down. Gwen nods. “Okay, guys, seriously, what does Miguel want with a singer?”
“Maybe she’s a scientist or something? Miguel needs her help?” Gwen suggests, and Miles shakes his head. “Nah, I feel like he’d just meet with her then.”
“He did mention she was close to our age, though. And her songs make it sound like she has an issue with authority,” Pav mentions, and Hobie nods. “I fuck with ‘er.” They all look at him. “Oh, I get it. She’s Hobie’s age,” Gwen says, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “What does ‘at ‘ave to do with anythin’?”
“You two are the same age, both have a problem with authority… whatever she is, she needs someone she can relate to to actually come with us,” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “Guess ‘at makes sense.” The four of them continue watching the concert. Even though it isn’t necessarily punk music, Hobie loves the lyrics. And Gwen loves all of the songs because she understands the lyrics more than the other guys. Miles is enjoying it because Gwen is enjoying it, and Pav is enjoying it because other people are enjoying it. However, neither of them would probably listen to this after this mission. When you’re nearing the end, Miles slips his mask back on. “Alright, everyone. What’s the plan?”
“We need to get backstage,” Gwen says, slipping her mask on as well. “‘ave a gander down there,” Hobie says, pointing at some marks on the stage. “What’s that?” Pav asks. “Pyrotechnics. When they go off, we go in,” Hobie says, and they all nod. “Hope they’re big enough that no one sees us,” Gwen mumbles and Hobie scoffs. “Gwendy, it’s a stadium show. It’s ‘bout to be big,” he says. The four of them prepare, running along the catwalk and getting ready to web back to where you would disappear to. Sure enough, the pyrotechnics go off and Hobie was right. They’re big. It gives them the advantage as they slip undetected backstage. They hide high up, watching as you run offstage after your encore. They silently follow you to your dressing room and Miles points at an air vent. Gwen nods, quietly yanking it off of its hinges. She crawls inside, taking a glance to make sure you’re still clothed, and then motions for the boys to follow.
Meanwhile, you’re wiping your makeup off, sipping on some water to soothe your throat from your performance. You walk away from the giant mirror to go grab a snack in the corner of the room when, suddenly, you feel like someone is watching you. You subtly unsheathe your hairbrush, which doubles as a dagger. Just in case. You take a deep breath, turning around, and throwing it. Miles leaps out of the way, and the other three’s eyes are wide. The accuracy with that throw was a little too good. “None of you are Miguel,” you say, on edge still. “Ay, don’t compare me to that bloody bloke. I’d rather die than be called ‘im,” Hobie says, and you give him an amused look. “I can arrange that,” you say, and Gwen clears her throat. “I just wanted to say your concert was like, totally, awesome.”
“Aw, thanks! Did you pay to watch?” you ask and she looks around. “Well uh… I, um—” She gets cut off by your laugh. “I’m kidding. I don’t give a fuck if you didn’t. In fact, I would prefer you didn’t,” you explain. “Oh! Then no. Too cool to pay, you know?” Gwen rambles and Miles turns his head to her, giving her a look that translates into ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ You chuckle. “Why are you four here, then? Señor O’Hara miss me?” you take a bite of the snack you picked, leaning against the wall. “How do you know Miguel?” Pav asks and you snort. “Long story. Oh! He finally find out I took something from him?” you ask, tossing your food to the side and crossing your arms. “I… we actually don’t know. He just said we had to bring you back to—”
“Wait he’s actually inviting me into his super secret spider society?” you ask, a look of excitement spreading across your face. “Uh. Yes?” Miles says, and you squeal. “This is so exciting! My first time being invited, okay, great, hold on,” you say, quickly running off and behind the changing room divider. “Uh… you’re just gonna come with us?” Gwen asks, and you yell a quick ‘yep!’ They all look at each other and shrug. “No offense, sweet’eart, but I thought it woulda been ‘arder to convince ya. Wasn’t aware bein’ invited by a stuck-up wanker like ‘im was all it would take,” Hobie says, and they hear a giggle from behind the screen. “Oh this isn’t my first time in his little fanclub,” you step out from behind the divider, garnishing an all-black catsuit with shiny black gloves coming to claws at the fingers. A small eye mask adorns your face, and you smirk. “It’s just the first time he’ll know I’m there.”
“Holy shit, no way! You’re Black Cat!” Gwen says, and you do a little curtsy. “Pleased to make your acquaintance officially, Gwen Stacy,” you say, and her eyes get big. “How did you know—”
“Like I said. Not my first time there. Surprising since you all have that spidey sense or whatever, but guess I’m just that good,” you say, pulling out a dimension-hopping watch. “When did you—”
“Do I have to say I’ve been to your Spidertopia already again? Come on, I’m sure your pendejo of a boss is waiting for us,” you grin, and Hobie shakes his head. “Not my boss. I like you, though. Gettin’ fuck the establishment vibes,” he says, and you wink at him. “Thanks, Hobie Brown. Appreciate it. Also, Pavitr, you need to tell me what your haircare routine is,” you walk through the portal, and the four of them follow after you. Sure enough, you step out of the portal and stand right in front of Miguel’s desk. “Hello there, Spider-Boy,” you say, and he sighs. “(Y/n). Give me the device back. Now.”
“I’m good, actually. Been having too much fun with it,” you say, placing it on your wrist. He mutters something in Spanish as the four of them appear behind you. “Wait, if you’re Black Cat, why are you like… a superstar?” Miles asks, taking his mask off. “Was told at a young age to never settle for second best. So, I never did. Also if you want to steal from the big leagues, you have to be in with the big leagues,” you say, shrugging. “Damn, she is… so cool,” Gwen whispers. “We have an agreement, (Y/n),” MIguel says and you groan. “Miguel! Big guy, amigo, can I call you that?”
“No.”
“Don’t care, when have I ever stuck with an agreement?” you ask and he frowns. “This is all because you want to be able to come here whenever you want, isn’t it?” he asks and you grin. “You’re so smart, bestie,” you say and he groans. “You’re impossible.”
“I know. So can I come here and not have to worry about multiple spiders biting me all at once?” you ask, and he sighs. “Yes.”
“YE—”
“BUT!”
“Fuck, there’s a but,” you groan, as he continues talking, “No. Stealing.” You feign offense. “What makes you think I would ever steal something from here?” He points to your wrist. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This was gifted to me.”
“By who.”
“Myself.”
“Esta maldita chica,” he mumbles, and you grin. “Well, thank you so much for approving my breaking and entering of your little arachnid club. I’ll be sure to return everything I’ve taken in hopes that you would notice I wanted to be invited,” you grin, and he clenches his jaw. “You step one toe out of line—”
“I woooon’t! Promise! Before I return everything though, I kinda have a heist planned in Earth-42,” you shrug, pulling up a portal. “I’ll tell Miles you said hi, Miles,” you give him a smirk, but before disappearing into the portal, you hear Miguel. “When you’re done come back here. I actually might be able to use you for something.”
You smile at him. “Say less, Spider-Man.” Then, you disappear. “We’re about to see a lot more of her, aren’t we?” Miles asks, and Miguel sighs and nods. “Dude! She is so cool!” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “She don’t take shit from no one. Respectable.”
“She’s funny! And she was able to shut you down, Miguel, that never happens,” Pav says, laughing a bit. “She seems kinda crazy,” Miles says.”
“What, like we aren’t?” Gwen retaliates and he shrugs. “I am perfectly sane! Most of the time…”
Miguel runs his hand through his hair in frustration as the four of them continue discussing you while walking out of the room.
He was not looking forward to the friendship the five of you were about to form.
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onlyswan · 9 months
Text
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summary: in which you make jungkook’s world spin and you tend to… make him a little too dizzy.
> idol!jungkook x reader / est. relationship, fluff, angst / word count: 7k
> content/warnings: yea shirtless jungkook should be a warning… one (1) spank then he kisses it better, also gives a kiss to that lil bow on oc’s undies >:( + a flashback of oc crying and him getting stressed out bcs oc is a careless brat fr
> in which masterlist!
note: hehe i’m here <3 this drabble is basically just oc in a mood and jungkook being the sweetest bf ever 🤨 idk how it got this long either heh it didn’t feel that way at all while i wrote-edited? but i hope u enjoy and i’d love to hear ur thoughts 🥺 reblogs/feedback are appreciated !! <3
“oh my god- fuck!”
you cover your mouth in shock, squeezing your eyes shut and flinching at the ear-splitting sound that bounces off the walls of the apartment.
jungkook is rendered frozen, eyebrows furrowed and jaw slacked, staring down at his shirt largely stained by the chocolate milk you were walking around with after brunch.
“damn…”
his eyes are irritable when they communicate with yours.
“baby! really? did it have to be the white one?”
but seconds later, they become worried and calculating — wandering all over the tiled floor, and then your bare feet infront of his slides-clad ones, surrounded by shattered pieces of ceramic.
the collateral damage. an unforeseen tragedy.
suffice to say, jungkook woke up this morning blissfully unaware of the turbulent storm threatening to make a playground out of your mind. it’s craving to feed destruction, and here he is living with you under the same roof, an unfortunate casualty from your antics.
the hand-painted mug, wet from the condensation, slipped away from your hands when you accidentally collided with his tough build at the intersection of the living room and the kitchen. this… wasn’t part of the plan. the plan was a little spill and this is a landslide.
“that was expensive too.” you utter wistfully, chest deflating as you release an exasperated breath. “sorry. i’ll clean up everything. just stay there and i’ll- when did i last see the broom-”
his doe eyes grow two times its size when you start looking around the apartment in search of the broom, and perhaps something you can use to pat yourself and jungkook dry, causing your feet to unconsciously shift on the treacherous ground.
“ba-baby! don’t move! you’re going to hurt yourself. are you crazy?” he interrupts you with a hiss, voice stern as his hands curl around your arms to hold you steady. “it’s okay. this is nothing, i’m not mad… just stay still, understand?”
you nod slowly as he lets go, eyebrows knitting together to convey confusion when he starts pulling his shirt over his head, revealing miles of bare skin and planes of defined muscles on a perfect silhouette. perfect because it’s jungkook.
alright… to see him half-naked wasn’t one of your intentions, but you’re definitely not one to complain.
“tsk, i think i need to shower again.”
figuring that the internet has a solution to every problem one could think of, jungkook has decided to accept the horror that has happened to his shirt. what was it again? salt? vinegar? baking soda? powder? fuck it, he’ll search for it later.
he throws caution to the wind by using it to wipe his damp torso, brushing it over his tan skin glistening with a sheen of the liquid that you wittingly spilled. he winces at the uncomfortable stickiness that could be felt across his stomach, but he can’t help but to laugh when he sees how it further accentuated his abs.
and if only you were in a chipper mood today, you would be laughing along with him. would’ve taken over cleaning him up, apologized with a kiss on his waist. too bad you’re not.
eventually, he gives up on erasing on the feeling, proceeding to fold the shirt in halves.
“what are you doing?” you snap, putting on a guise of harsher irritation over your dreamy stares at your boyfriend’s glorious physique. “are we just supposed to stand here forever like idiots?”
“what is this? why are you so grumpy today?” he questions with a frown, patting your cheek with the soft cottony fabric because the splash managed to reach your face unbeknownst to you.
and then he bends down to place the folded shirt infront of your feet, looking up to you with his galaxy-filled eyes to say, “here- come on. stand here while i clean up.”
you stand isolated on the safe zone he created, childishly pouting with your arms crossed over chest as you wait for him to pick up your slippers in the bedroom.
the simple answer to jungkook’s question is you’re bored and in a bad mood. the more complex answer would be you came up with a one-man game you can only win if you successfully piss your boyfriend off, but you’re too scared to pull off anything that will legitimately make him upset with you.
because the last time you made him angry, it hasn’t been… that long ago. he’s been keeping a closer eye on you since then, and you’ve been trying to be good. keyword being trying. after all, you did lost his car key… at a beach three hours away from home. you searched the entire shore — retraced your steps, made your knees and palms bleed digging through the rocky sand, curled up by the waves to wallow in self-blame and the smell of salt-air defeat. you were nearly in tears as you listened to the call ring for what felt like an eternity, unsure if he already wrapped up the company meeting he mentioned to you the day before.
you still remember the desperate words you greeted him with instead of ‘hello’.
“babe, promise me you won’t be mad.”
“____, you didn’t even tell me you were coming here! care to explain that to me first? huh?”
your name, and not ‘baby’? heavens above have mercy; you’re fucked.
jungkook presses the heels of his palms over his eyes to alleviate the dull throbbing of his head, breathing heavily to compose himself, but he can’t disguise the frustration deeply embedded in his voice.
“you scared me!”
not yelling, but tone evidently very upset with you. somehow, that makes you feel worse.
“i had to make up an excuse infront of everyone and drive here fast. i was so worried of you being here all alone when it gets dark!”
“it’s your car so i thought i had to let you know right away. i’m sorry.” you chew at your bottom lip anxiously, eyes brimming with tears as you barely muster up the courage to observe how he’s handling this.
your heart pounds louder in your chest when he finally looks down at you, guilty and gloomy, sat on a wooden bench painted yellow. it drops to your stomach when you see the sullen expression painting his face a light shade of red.
“where did you lose it?”
you open your mouth, but no words come out. you can only manage to point at the shore with your disoriented eyes, and he traces the direction with his. the majestic orange sky where the sun descends below the horizon fails to be recognized by your foggy, distracted minds.
it’s silent for a few beats, then he huffs, breathing out a sarcastic chuckle before burying his face in hands.
“baby, please. please. are you sure you’re not pranking me right now?”
“no! do you think i’d joke like this? i really tried my best to find it!” you sniffle, roughly wiping away the lone tear that escapes your eye. you’re almost too humiliated to continue talking, volume falling a few notches above a whisper. “but the waves were getting stronger.”
he vehemently shakes his head, rendered speechless and stuttering, malfunctioning. he doesn’t think he has ever imagined this type of scenario before. “this is crazy. really… this is unbelievable… how did this even happen?”
he exhales loudly before removing his hands, revealing a calmer exterior. be that as it may, his skin is more flushed, all the way to his ears and down to his neck, where his veins have become noticeably prominent.
“i mean, what else can we do about it? i’ll request for a new one.”
“but are we just going to leave the car here?”
“did you leave anything in there?”
“i left my bag, but…” you pat the pockets of your skirt to check if your valuables didn’t meet the same fate as the car key. “i brought my phone and wallet with me.”
he nods. “then i’ll call a towing service.”
you pout.
“it’s such a bother.”
feeling exhausted after burning a concerning amount of energy in search of the missing item, you stand on wobbly feet to loop your arms around his waist.
maybe it’s to coax him into forgiving you. maybe it’s to make yourself feel better, nuzzle your face on his chest to drive away the anxiety weighing on your shoulders. but as it’s being lifted off, so is the barrier withholding your salty tears.
“i’m so careless. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i should’ve drove my car instead.”
“ye- no, that’s not…” he cuts himself off with a sigh.
he puts an arm around you, pushing his hair back and repeatedly carding his fingers through it out of habit.
“seriously, baby… you stress me out so much, do you know that? you’re always wandering around places you’re not familiar with… this is secluded. it’s dangerous. you could get hurt if you bump into the wrong people… really, i’m just relieved it’s not yourself that you lost this time!”
the recollection of old flashbacks playing in his mind like a movie reel elicits a throaty chuckle from him, low and rough, the vibrations of his chest rudely awakening the butterflies in your stomach.
“you couldn’t even send me a text. you didn’t turn on your location. i would’ve lost my fucking mind again… did you even thought of that? or is that what you wanted, huh? baby? you enjoy driving me crazy like this?”
and the confession tucked inside his scolding obliterates any coherent thoughts in your head, causing you to lose control of your whirlwind of emotions.
“this isn’t fair. you said you won’t be mad.” you wail out in response, tears fiercely leaking from your eyes akin to a rainstorm. “i didn’t know this would happen!”
he clicks his tongue, gingerly caressing your wet cheeks with his thumb, then with the rest of his fingers, and the paw of his jacket, because the streams just seem to have no plans of ceasing. his wide eyes worriedly scans your tear-stained face, heart squeezed painfully by the restrained sobs forcefully ripping themselves from your throat.
“shhh, shh. don’t cry- don’t cry. i’m not mad, i was just worried about you.”
“jungkook, you’re lying.” you whine. “don’t lie to me. i don’t like it.”
he slowly blinks at you, head hanging low as to compose his thoughts before he reconnects with your eyes. a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips before his tongue unconsciously sweeps over them, its tip catching the silver ring piercing through his skin to play with it.
a moment of silence, thick with restlessness and anticipation, harder to breathe with the unique smell of the salt-air entering and leaving your lungs.
you feel small under his stoic gaze. you want to sit back down and cry harder.
your boyfriend is mad. your boyfriend is infuriatingly hot even when he’s disappointed in you. you need to dig a hole in the sand and live there forever. after everything, these are the only thoughts left running in your head.
“okay, fine. you lost the key of our car in the ocean, ____. but what if someone already found it by chance?” he cocks his head to the side, briefly peering at the road behind you.
he knows that it’s no use. even if he does see the white jeep wheeling by, is he supposed to assume that he can outrun it by some heaven-granted miracle?
“what then? hm…? what else can we do? i guess it could be getting stolen right now and we don’t even know. you parked so far away.”
god, please, not your favorite car.
“it’s not only the car. i still have important documents left in the compartment too.” this only dawns on him now, judging by the look of distress written on his face. he suddenly slaps his thigh, and you flinch a little. “fuck! i should’ve cleaned sooner!”
“then you are mad.” you arrive at a conclusion, chin wobbling as you sniffle. “about a lot of things.”
you resist the urge to stomp your feet. you want to throw a tantrum so bad. tell him that he shouldn’t be keeping such things in the car in the first place, that he owns a safe for fuck’s sake, but you know you can’t get away with shifting the blame because you messed up horribly in comparison.
“i get it. i’m sorry… i take full responsibility this time.”
“shit, baby.” he deeply sighs.
it becomes quiet again. he just looks at your face with knitted eyebrows, not saying anything more, and you try your best to cut off your crying, not to act conscious, but your eyes still fall on the sand. they stay there for a few beats to avoid the intensity of his gaze.
he almost sounds pained when he finally speaks. “how can i stay mad at you when you’re crying?”
he tilts up your chin, and your glassy eyes, sparkling with a new wave of tears, look at him beseechingly.
the setting sun. an eternal witness to a brand new day of humans being humans. it kisses your skin with its golden light, bathing your figure to radiate an angelic glow that drives him to consider once more that you could just be an enchanting character across dreams and the year is still 2017.
you sniffle again, brushing off his hand. sometimes you despise that jungkook brings out messiest, most unstable side of you. you know that he practically signed up for this, and he will always love you the same, love you even more. but that doesn’t take away the fact that you’re so embarrassed.
“but i’m not crying just to make you feel bad, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“yah, that wasn’t what i meant?” he frowns, eyes softening at your reply. “of course. i know that.”
the cracks in your voice, he seals with a soft kiss on your lips, tender and swollen caused by the onslaught of your sharp teeth.
“anyway, i can take care of replacing it. i mean, it’s not like it can get stolen just like that, right…?”
he sounds rather nervous convincing the both of you.
“but i’m most worried about you. i can lose everything but you.” his tattooed arm pulls you closer, casting aside the tension by leaving not even an inch of space between your bodies. he tenderly rubs your back to console you, and another kiss is granted to your temple, his soothing voice slightly muffled as his lips stay glued to you. “did i make you cry? i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry… it’s okay. things like this can happen.”
“no, i’m sorry.” you aggressively shake your head and he carries on with wiping your cheeks, the back of his hand brushing off the tears that drip across your chin. he dries his hand on the hem of his jacket only to get it wet all over again.
“let’s just learn from this and move on. promise me that you’ll be more careful next time, okay? you can do that, right?”
jungkook does scold you every now and then, but although you stress him out, he would hate it if he’s not the first person you call when you’re in trouble. he would hate it if you act nonchalant and secretly cry when you’re hurt. but most of all, he can’t imagine a life in which you don’t make his world spin, much as he tends to get too dizzy at times.
your defiant hum makes his tense shoulders drop in disappointment.
“there should be a bus stop somewhere, i’ll just go home on my own. i don’t want to keep stressing you out.”
you will yourself to break free from his embrace, dragging yourself away to leave behind a trail of footprints in the sand, and he knows he’ll be running after you today, too.
“oh? you better stop right there!” he warns with a hand over his hip.
you become smaller and smaller in his eyes with every tick of the clock, much like how the sun is gradually getting swallowed by the ocean.
“i’ll get angry for real if you disappear from my sight. really, i’m not joking!”
angry? what a joke. you know that he’d cry blood searching for you if you get lost.
“oh? you’re really not going to stop?!”
jungkook’s voice fall on deaf ears, except that of the dog leashed to a tree that stands infront of a humble home. it seethingly barks at him from many meters away.
“fucking shit. i need alcohol.” he chuckles to himself, rubbing his tired eyes. “____, i swear, you’re getting too stubborn these days. what should i do with you?”
but you’re too far away to hear him, and so, he answers himself.
“eh, it is what it is.”
the wind blows with a quiet whistle, deadly as it fuels the roaring waves.
“AH! nuh-uh!” he exclaims, jaw dropping in alarm when he sees an urgent reason to chase after you, putting those leg days at the gym to good use.
you jump, a squeak leaving your mouth when out of nowhere, a solicitous palm smooths over your behind, sliding down to the back of your thighs to hold down your rippling skirt.
but you’re determined to be unyielding, eyes shooting daggers at jungkook. “leave me alone. i can do it myself.”
“baby, isn’t that a little rude? is that how you say ‘thank you’?”
“thank you. now let’s go our separate ways.”
and just like that, you’re walking away again.
“shit.” he curses quietly through gritted teeth, pulling at his hair. “babe, please come back… i’m sorry! i didn’t mean that!”
“jungkook! how many times do i need to tell you to turn off faucet properly?!”
you’re hot on jungkook’s tail as he makes his way to the laundry room beside the kitchen, carrying a laundry basket over his hip. he’s still shirtless, only clad in a different pair of shorts after a quick shower.
“the bathroom sink was close to overflowing! again!”
“i know what you’re doing.”
“what? what am i doing?”
the basket touches the ground, standing beside the dryer, and then he turns to face you, eyebrows shooting up. “picking a fight with me won’t work today.”
“why?” your tone borders on a whine.
“what do you mean ‘why’?” he laughs in jest. “why? why do you want to fight with me so bad?”
“i don’t know.” you exhale loudly, rolling your eyes and shrugging. “just because!”
“well, that’s not very convincing, is it?” he teases you with a grin, proceeding to open the dryer to dump the fresh laundry in the basket. the clothes you wore in the past week once again soaked up the sweet, floral scent the people around you distinctly recognizes to be your own and jungkook’s.
“i know, but i’m done playing now. you’re not hearing me.” you close your eyes in frustration, recounting the other times you had to say these exact words. “you’re going to flood our house.”
“okay, okay. i won’t forget to double-check it from now on. i promise.”
“sure, that’s what you also said last time.” you indignantly scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m not turning it off for you anymore. if we get flooded, i’m leaving you. i’m moving out.”
your threat puts a halt to his movements for a split second before he’s adorably replying in a sing-song voice. “then i’m going with you.”
“no, you’re not.”
and it doesn’t come as a shock to you that jungkook doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.
“huh! good luck trying to stop me.” he slams the door of the dryer shut, standing up straight. “it’s not easy getting rid of me. you know that.”
he walks to the middle of the room to get a good view of you at the entrance. with the other resting on his hip, he lies his palm flat over the counter, outstretched arm cascading with varied colors of ink in sharp lines and swirling curves.
fuck, he has to know what he’s doing — flexing his muscles like that, not playing fair.
“aigoo, look at you glaring at me. you want to fight?”
and you’d feel intimidated by his challenging stare, the quirk of his eyebrow, his teeth sinking on his bottom lip… only if he didn’t blink to rake a stare over your body, lingering on your smooth legs that couldn’t be covered by your mere underwear. only if they didn’t flicker back to your face, and only if he didn’t smirk like a lovesick fool.
“so cute.” he chuckles. “you’re totally my type.”
“shut up.” you roll your eyes at the random compliment. “i know, i already get that a lot.”
his smile then fades, not so thrilled with the reminder that it’s so easy to fall in love with you, and therefore anyone would die to take his place. he knows that they hover around you like moths to a flame when he’s not there. well, he really can’t blame them, can he? you’re so fucking attractive.
“what does that mean…? who else is saying it, huh? tell me. i think i have a few guesses.”
“does it matter?” you stare at him blankly, which then turns into a piercing glare. “jungkook! i was just talking about you not paying enough attention. look at you proving me right!”
the stomp of your feet on the floor tells him that you’ve reached a level of frustration near to inducing a flood of tears.
oh, he truly got called out, huh?
“i’m sorry- i’m sorry. i admit that. i’m sorry, my love. i was just joking around. i’m listening well now.” he winces guiltily, beckoning you to be where he is. “come here then.”
“i don’t want to.” you stay rooted in your spot. “who do you think you are?”
“m-me…? i’m your boyfriend. boyfriend!” he points at himself, index finger repeatedly poking his bare chest to emphasize his point. his arm then drops to his side. his doe eyes widen as he breathes out a sigh of disbelief. “oh, i’m really getting upset now?”
you bite back a smile. the sweet taste of victory.
you can’t be the only one, can you?
“aish, i see you’re having your way again.” he chuckles, taking it upon himself to cross the distance between you. his hands find purchase on the curves of your waist, and every nerve in your body turns into a live wire. “let’s just go out today. do you want to practice boxing at the gym with me?”
didn’t he just watch you do arms day this morning? does he think you have the same stamina as him? you make a face of disapproval and shake your head.
“shall we go to a rage room again then? break more stuff?” he playfully sticks his tongue out, and you glare once more.
for the record, you loved that mug.
“boring.”
“and fighting with me is fun?”
you purse your lips into a thin line. “well, it’s not boring.”
“of course.” he laughs, softly squeezing your waist, pads of his thumbs mindlessly tracing shapes over the fabric of your top.
all of a sudden, he’s tugging you closer to envelope you in his embrace, voice slightly muffled as he sweetly talks. “are you mad at me for real? i’m sorry. sorry, sorry, sorry. sorry. i’ll really be more mindful of the things you remind me about, i swear… i don’t like fighting. it breaks my heart when you cry.”
what is this five foot ten man with bulging biceps, tattoo sleeve, and piercings doing here in the crook of your neck — affectionately nuzzling his face on your skin and telling you in a baby voice that he doesn’t like fighting?
you don’t know, but you feel good.
and his bare body is so comfortingly soft and warm.
he draws back for a kiss but his nose and lips only graze your cheek when you turn away, and you don’t see the sadness that flashes across his face.
“so what i’m hearing is… you don’t like fighting with me because i’m too sensitive? is that the truth?”
“no!” he perks up to interject without hesitation, shaking his head. “but i don’t think that’s a bad thing anyway… being sensitive.”
but you admit being a crybaby. you cry when you’re angry.
that’s when jungkook distinguishes the glint of mischief swimming in your irises. he feels dizzy after having his heart drop to his stomach.
“no. no, no.”
his mirthful grin returns, revealing his perfect set of teeth.
“ahh, i’m stressed!” he closes his eyes, throwing his head back, chest puffing up when he breathes in then out. “i knew it. no, i’m not falling for this trap!”
then he flees the room carrying the laundry basket, leaving you doubled over and covering your mouth to silence your giggles of amusement.
“i’m hanging the laundry now!”
“how dare you walk away from me?!”
“you can’t follow me!”
“i’m not.” you scoff, purposely bumping your hips against his. “i’ll vacuum the living room.”
“where are you going? gym?” you genuinely begin to sulk, watching your boyfriend slide into a baggy pair of bleached denim pants. “are you leaving me here?”
he avoids your inquiring eyes, ignoring you as he pulls up his zipper and does the button. you pout when he walks further away to pull out a black shirt from the clothing rack.
“is that it? are you tired of me already?”
he tosses its hanger in the basket where you discard the empty ones before wearing the final piece of clothing, covering himself fully for the first time today.
you sigh, feeling dejected. “you don’t love me anymore?”
and jungkook needs to physically restrain himself so he won’t grab your face and say ‘i love you’ over and over again until he runs out of breath.
you leave the closet to follow him to the bedroom, where he sits on the edge of the mattress to put on his socks.
you stand by him, patience quickly running thin. “hello?”
he brushes away the non-existent dirt on the left sock before switching his legs to put on the right one.
“did i turn invisible?”
your eyebrows furrow in disappointment. this isn’t how fighting works. you need a reaction at the very least.
you tug at the sleeve of his shirt, starting to get annoyed, already planning your exit if he continues this act. “you’re hurting my feelings. you’re not even going to look at me?”
he mumbles, and you almost fail to piece his phrase together. “can’t, you’re too pretty.”
his big brown eyes faintly glimmer with hope when he looks up at you, puckering his rose-tinted lips and making kissing sounds.
your sweet and clingy boyfriend, he’s making this too difficult.
a tsunami of affection washes over you, and it becomes impossible for you not to crack at his cheekiness then. “jungkook, you’re impossible!”
atleast he tried to shoot his shot.
“tsk, see? i thought so!” he grumbles, snapping the elastic band on his ankle. “just want one kiss.”
he disappears into the closet again.
he returns not a minute later, unceremoniously placing a white bucket hat on your head before tugging it down to obstruct your vision.
“hey!”
you hastily take it off, scowling at your laughing boyfriend who turns out to be already wearing a black bucket hat of his own.
“you’re bored, aren’t you? let’s go out, have some sun.”
“no.”
you reply exactly as your boyfriend predicted you would.
jungkook captures your wrist to slip his credit card on your palm, folding your fingers over it, but they aren’t enough to hide the black rectangular thing you can use to buy the world with if you wanted to. your amusement spills out as giggles, brighter as he pushes your hand to your chest so you have no other choice but to accept it.
he scrunches his nose, face only inches away from yours as he persuades you with his natural charm. “what if we go shopping, hmm?”
“thanks babe, but i can’t think of anything i want right now.” you sniffle with teary eyes, flipping the card and holding it between your longest fingers as muscle memory takes control.
“then just keep it incase you see something you want.”
he kneels on the floor out of the blue, and you eye him curiously, your fingers automatically tangling with his silky locks before making a loose fist.
“here, put some pants on. hurry-” he presents your pair of faded gray cargo pants.
you tug at his hair lightly, which prompts him to lift his head. you scrunch your nose cutely, giggling. “i’m spoiled.”
“ey, so what if you are?” he brushes off your observation with his satoori accent, blithe tone listing down reasons. “i love you. i worked hard so i can do these things for you. we moved in together so we can take care of each other.”
and you want to cry. you truly do. your face began to feel warm after he said that he loves you, but the tears never make it past your lash line when his big palm lands a loud smack on your ass, skin-to skin.
“but i do think that you are a brat. does that count for something?”
it catches you by surprise, and a scandalized gasp escapes your mouth as you feel the sting spreading across your skin.
“shut up! give that to me.” you roll your eyes, stealing the pants from his grasp.
“see, that’s what i’m talking about.” he chuckles lightheartedly. “get dressed then.”
his fingers dig in the soft flesh of your thighs when he pulls you closer to kiss the tiny little ribbon on your underwear, heart-shaped lips pressed to you so firmly you can trace their outline bleeding through the thin fabric and onto your skin. “mmm-mwah!”
and then you feel them there next, where it still hurts, a softer kiss in comparison to soothe the sting he left behind.
your heart is beating so loud you can feel it in your throat, feeble knees nearly giving away to crash and break.
who does that so casually? who the hell does that?
oh, right… jungkook. of course.
you raise the white flag today.
perhaps he will flood the apartment tomorrow, and you can stay angry longer then.
“what’s taking him so long?” you mutter absentmindedly to yourself, lost eyes scanning the park in hopes of getting a glimpse of your boyfriend and his classic jungkook outfit, but he’s still nowhere to be seen.
your sour mood makes a reappearance.
to your credit, taking you out and then asking you to wait here without telling you where he’s going is rude, and you’re lonely and jealous of the couples around you having a picnic. not to mention that the clouds have uncovered the sun and you’re burning.
this scene also leads your brain to wander to those cliche flashbacks in a film or a show where a parent lies to their child that they’ll come back, and then they doesn’t. it’s always, always at some sort of park.
oh, for fuck’s sake, why are you wasting your time giving this a lot of thought?
too bored and antsy to sit still, you finally decide to text jungkook.
to: my baby love
i'm gonna look for food. do you want anything?
orrr is that what you're away buying 😥
WHERE ARE YOU
why didn't you just take me with youuuu
?
please me lonely :(
[sent 1 photo]
a black cat !! is sleeping on my shoes!! 😭
i miss you :(
are you almost done
i hate u
whatever i'm going. call if you still remember that you're someone's bf i guess.
jungkook crosses the street like an excited puppy, long pretty hair bouncing as he practically skips his way to the area where he left you to wait.
only to be greeted by a complete stranger.
his radiant beam fades into a hue of confusion.
the bench is now occupied by a woman chugging an energy drink after running laps around the park.
they lock eyes for a split second. he averts his befuddled stare to pretend that nothing happened, walking past her with a bouquet of sunflowers until he settles down two benches away.
he wears his bucket hat again only for him to throw it aside with a sigh, messing with his hair to release his frustration. of course you left. he can only snort to himself while he reads the last message you sent. you’re so cute. he knows you’ve never been keen on having to wait, but he didn’t expect himself to take so long either.
not wanting you to be upset with him another second longer, he instantly decides to call you.
his forehead creases when his phone vibrates, informing him that he typed an incorrect password. he tries again, slow and deliberate, only for the same thing to happen, and he begins to feel nervous.
what the fuck?
okay, calm down, JK. one more time.
he freezes as the same words flash on the screen. his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he feels the irritation bubbling up inside of him.
“why is it like this…? what’s your problem? what am i touching wrong?”
you return to the park more carefree than before. since jungkook is god knows where, you decided to have a picnic on your own. you had to buy a new picnic blanket, though. you can’t get the one in the car because he has the key. but just to be petty, you hope that he figured it out from the text notifications he got when you used his card.
oh, there he is looking angrily at his phone.
you halt on your tracks, instantly pulling the brakes on your feet when you recognize your boyfriend from your peripheral vision. you slowly chew the remaining tteokbokki in your mouth.
he’s holding his phone… and he hasn’t called you yet?
“wow, did you seriously forgot about me?”
upon hearing your familiar voice, jungkook’s features soften, not having to squint at the sunlight either because you’ve kindly blocked it with your back.
“where did you even go? i didn’t see you!”
the password-protected device that’s been giving him a headache for the past ten minutes is abandoned in the depths of his pocket.
“baby,” he utters airily as he stands on his feet, reaching out to hold your forearm. “i’m sorry. i took so long, didn’t i…? i went to buy you flowers but they didn’t have tulips anywhere. anywhere. every shop said someone bought all of them!”
he scratches his head with a sheepish grin, revealing the bouquet he’s been concealing behind him.
“i got you sunflowers instead… they-” he points at them, eyes flickering on the bundle of yellow flowers he’s offering as a gift. “they’re not bad. i think they’re pretty too. you like them too, right?”
sunflowers are pretty. after all, it used to be your favorite in middle school, mostly because it’s the first flower you received from an admirer… it was for your birthday and you felt like you died when it withered, heavily on-brand for a young heart drawn to romance. excluding that, everything has changed. it’s a typical saturday and beads of sweat have formed on your lover’s forehead after running around under the sun. you think you can keep them alive longer this time around.
“i like you the most.”
and then he receives his gift in return, that particularly sweet smile of yours he only sees when you’re so giddy.
his heart flutters wildly at your following actions.
“kiss.” you adorably demand, copying his pout earlier when he was asking for a kiss.
but unlike you who left his wish ungranted, he crosses the distance to plant a kiss on your lips. he pulls away a mere three inches, muttering to confront you. “but i thought you hated me?”
“who said that? that wasn’t me.” you feign ignorance, eyes so wide as to mimic being confused. you carefully take the flowers into your embrace, subtly exchanging it with the paper bowl you’re holding. “thank you, baby… here, do you want tteokbokki?”
he goes for the fish cake first, poking it with the stick and popping it in his mouth. you find yourself too absorbed in admiring the sunflowers one by one to sense your boyfriend staring at you, thinking to himself, you’re always worth the effort and this overpriced tteokbokki is pretty damn good.
“i turned on my location like i promised i would. did you see?” you mention without looking at him, acting laidback, still too shy when anything related to the incident is brought up.
he awkwardly smiles. no, he didn’t, unfortunately. he’s still fucking locked out of his phone.
you whimper when he pinches your cheek. “good job, baby.”
jungkook removes his head on your stomach to lie down beside you on the red picnic blanket. his hair touches his face and he tucks them behind his ears for the millionth time today.
“will you type my password for me?”
you take his phone without question, putting yours over your chest for the meantime. you successfully unlock it within a second, experienced fingers nimble after years of typing on the daily.
“here.” you hold it out for him without looking, picking up your own phone to continue scrolling through trending topics. however, seconds pass and the heavy weight on your hand has yet to be eased, so you wiggle it to catch his attention. “hey, it’s done.”
he gasps, gaping at you in bewilderment. “how did you do that?”
“you changed it again last night, remember? because i told you our anniversary isn’t a good idea.”
shit, right. he added a new one to the list of passwords that he uses for everything. he totally forgot about that. you’ve taken over every working brain cell that he has in his body.
“baby, this is your fault!” he groans, finally snatching away his phone. “ah- i wanted to throw it away. i didn’t know what was wrong with it. i was seriously so close to crying!”
that bad? was he about to get all his data wiped out? your poor baby. you laugh out loud at his reaction, belly aching as you roll over to wrap your arm around his waist and bury your face on his side.
“anyone can guess it if they try hard enough.”
“but that was the trick, you know? they’d think it’s too easy. they wouldn’t even consider it!”
“that doesn’t mean they won’t try it!”
“ah, i don’t care. i’m changing it back.” he stubbornly pouts, falling back on the blanket.
you want to cuddle. he feels a tug on the sleeve of his shirt and he immediately understands. he allows you to use his tattooed arm as a pillow. it envelopes you entirely when he reaches for his phone to type with both hands, and you automatically snuggle with him closer by resting your head on his chest.
“fine. do what you want, you dummy. you better not leave your phone lying around.” you mutter, heavy eyelids fluttering shut as the wind blows to softly caress your face. “and don’t take more pictures of me sleeping.”
“you’re sleeping? i thought we’re going to the mall.”
“we are. i’m letting you rest before you carry shopping bags.”
“ah- wow. thanks, baby.”
you don’t how much time passes, a minute or ten or more, but falling into a deep sleep proves to be impossible with the cacophony of sounds you’re surrounded with. you’re resting somewhere away from the crowd, but there’s still the hiphop music from a bluetooth speaker, honking of vehicles… and the main culprit, jeon jungkook scrolling through tiktok on your phone and bookmarking videos for you to watch later on. you can hear his giggles louder than his heartbeat, feel them make his body vibrate throughout.
so, you give up. you open your blurry eyes with a tired sigh, blinking to readjust to the brightness. he feels your movements, your nose brushing against his neck, and he squeezes you to his side, dutifully stroking your head to remind you that you’re safe despite being in a public place because you’re with him. you kiss his cheek to show your appreciation.
you end up harmonizing with his giggles when you do decide to join him, nearly tearing up at the sight of a cat riding a motorcycle toy on the screen. a little while later, your fascination is then stolen by fiddling with his tattooed hand — tracing the veins, the lines, the tattoos; pressing the faded heart like it’s a button connected to the beating one in his ribcage; grazing the rough areas of his palm calloused by lifting heavy weights.
and as you do so, you mull over the house by the sea you’re saving up for. how much longer will it take? should you check out more locations? do you tell jungkook? that it’s your back-up plan, a place where no one knows your name, just like how this city once was. it’s where you would run to, where you would build a new life if the time comes that this one falls apart, too. if not, if not, if not, would it be so bad to wake up beside you with an ocean view when he’s sixty?
fuck, you don’t know anymore. it shouldn’t be this hard— not anticipating the worst, but still being prepared for it. you despise being an adult.
you do it absentmindedly, taking off one of your silver rings and slipping it into each of his fingers to see where it would fit best… he knows you’re only entertaining yourself, but feeling it in his ring finger still puts a lump in his throat.
“are you proposing to me?”
“this is your right hand, silly.” you tease your stunned boyfriend, sticking your tongue out. “if you want me, come and get me.”
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