#like i could’ve told you on saturday late afternoon/evening that something was wrong

[segretecose]

.

#literally hate it. i mean no one likes being sick jdksjhshs #but i hate how a simple fever + head cold throws me off completely for double the amount of time it would most other ppl #and i hate that it’s 100% bc of the food #like i could’ve told you on saturday late afternoon/evening that something was wrong #just by the way my body was starting to refuse food #like who would’ve thought! that if you take nutrients away your body struggles even more to recover… #but it’s a lost battle it just is and it triggers other things in my brain #so physical recovery takes longer and mental recovery takes double that #well anyway!

[spencers-renaissance]

This Gravitational Pull

Summary: Penelope Garcia sets her two best friends Derek & Spencer up on a blind first date. Even with the best intentions and highest expectations, no-one could've predicted it would go quite this well.

Tags: fluff, first date, au: diff first meeting, shy spencer, insecurity, anxiety, flirting, cuddling, protective derek, silly amounts of affection

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.9k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

I started writing this and then realised that I'd set their date in a pub's beer garden? I googled it and apparently they are a thing in America so I kept it in. I don't know how common they are, but I hope it's all good and you can picture the setting just fine.

Spencer really wishes he hadn’t agreed to this blind date.

Not because he doesn’t trust Penelope — he does, he trusts her implicitly and entirely — but because it's a blisteringly hot day in late July and the heat compounded by his shaking nerves is making for a rather unpleasant sweating situation.

A bumblebee buzzes quietly around the table he’s sat at, briefly interested in the iced coffee he’s got his hands wrapped around, and Spencer watches it with a gentle sort of intrigue, able to briefly take his mind off the impending date. He knows that Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan is physically attractive, Penelope had made that more than clear with both her copious photos of him and the way she’s sung his praises since she started working at the FBI, but if anything, that just makes him more nervous. If Derek wasn’t his type, then he wouldn’t have as much to lose.

He runs a nervous hand through his hair as he heaves a small sigh. Worst case scenario, he can run home to his apartment, order Indian food, bury himself in the early edition of War and Peace he just won in an auction and forget that this date ever happened.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?”

A surprisingly deep and sexy voice has him looking up from the watch face he’s been staring at perhaps a little too intensely, and he’s instantly taken aback by the Greek God standing in front of him. He’d known Derek was attractive, he'd seen pictures of him, but no camera could ever hope to do someone so beautiful any semblance of justice.

“Uh, y-yes, um, yeah. That’s me.” He shakes his head to try and recover his awkward word stumbling before discreetly wiping his sweaty palm on his trousers and standing up to shake Derek’s hand. “You’re Derek?”

“The one and only,” Derek says cheekily, shooting Spencer a grin that already has his stomach churning with a mix of excitement and crippling nerves. “Penelope told me you were gorgeous, but let me tell you, she really undersold it, pretty boy.”

His cheeks instantly flush red as he fights to maintain eye contact, blinking owlishly at the other man. Did he really just say that?

“I was going to say the same thing.”

Derek’s grin only widens. “Well, it looks like Penelope matched us well, then.”

This time Spencer allows himself to briefly duck his head as a baffling mix of pleasure and mortification swim around his chest. He puts it down to inexperience. Any other explanation will only compound his embarrassment.

“She did,” he agrees, smiling over at Derek and hoping desperately that he’s managing to stay cooler on the outside than he is on the inside. “Do you want something to drink?”

Derek nods. “I’ll go and order a beer at the bar. Do you want anything or are you okay with that coffee?”

“Oh no, I’m fine, thank you,” Spencer says, and mentally he praises himself for finally getting out a coherent sentence that doesn’t sound hopelessly mangled and flustered.

He watches Derek as he strides into the pub, looking as cool and confident as his looks and personality allow, and he realises that he really does just have a way about him. The bar is relatively crowded due to the blinding heat on a Saturday afternoon, but the bartender serves him instantly, all the girls eyeing him interestedly and the guys knocking his shoulder and joking about with him as though they’re all easy, long-time friends.

It’s nice, Spencer thinks, to be the focus of someone like that’s attention. Derek could have his pick of most people drinking here, but he only has eyes for Spencer as he comes back out, holding a tall pint and wearing a happy, focused expression as he sits back down.

“Do you not drink?” Derek asks curiously and without judgement, gesturing to his coffee.

“I go out with my friends sometimes,” Spencer says, blushing again, “but I’m a bit of a lightweight, and that’s not the best state of mind to be in on any first date, let alone a blind one.”

Derek chuckles warmly at that, and the sound is a pleasant rumble reminiscent of a distant thunderstorm. Spencer wants to melt into it.

“I think I’d like to see you all messy on a night out, pretty boy,” Derek says wryly, still grinning shamelessly, and Spencer gets the distinct impression that this ‘pretty boy’ business is going to be a Thing between them.

Spencer cocks his head and takes a sip of his coffee through the long metal straw. “Maybe you’ll have to join us some time.”

“Does that mean we’re going on another date?” Derek asks, but before Spencer can panic that he’s said the wrong thing, he’s smoothly continuing. “Because I’m more than down for that.”

“You are?”

“Pretty boy, you ever looked in the mirror?” Derek demands playfully. “Add that to this cute little nerdy bashful doctor thing you got going on and you’re the whole package. Of course I want another date with you, and we’ve barely even started this one.”

Spencer flushes bright pink at that, and decides to move the conversation on before he melts into a literal puddle in the middle of this beer garden. “So you know Penelope through work?”

Derek gets the hint. “I was part of the group that arrested her, actually,” he chuckles, “and I thought she was gonna be a nightmare to work with when we gave her the option of working for the FBI instead of going to prison. But then she showed up on her first day decked out from head to toe in pink and yellow, her hair dyed back to her natural blonde, and the way she smiled when I called her baby girl… well, it was smooth sailing from then on. Did you know her back in her Black Queen days?”

“I was her one phone call,” Spencer answers, his face splitting into an easy grin as they discuss his favourite person on planet earth. “I was terrified she was going to jail and I’d lose her forever, so I was over the moon when you guys offered her that deal. We went to get our hair done together the very next day.”

“Oh yeah? And what did Pretty Boy have done to his hair, hm?”

Spencer blushes. “Let’s just say she wasn’t the only one who had a rebellious phase?”

“Now that I have got to know more about.”

“Save it for date number two, SSA Morgan,” Spencer shoots back, relaxing into the easy banter between them.

“Alright, alright, baby, I can do that,” he says, winking again. Thankfully, Spencer manages not to do an embarrassing impression of a traffic light this time. “How did you and Penelope meet?”

“Back in college actually,” Spencer nods. “She was sort of going off the rails after her parents’ death, but I think finding a scared 12 year old in her Geography elective helped her rein it in a bit. We’ve been glued at the hip pretty much since we met. Even when I went to MIT for a bit to complete my Engineering PhD, she came with me. Since her job back then was mostly hacking and some supplemental side jobs, it didn’t really matter where she was based, she was just hellbent on protecting me like she has ever since that first Geography class.”

“Wow,” Derek says, looking genuinely shocked as he leans back a little bit, eyeing Spencer with curious eyes. “You went to college when you were twelve? I’m glad you had Penelope because that could’ve been a disaster.”

“It kind of was,” Spencer nods, laughing a little. “But it meant that I had five degrees including three doctorates by the time I was twenty-one so I wasn’t too mad about it.”

Derek stares at him consideringly, the soft smile on his face making Spencer’s stomach fill with butterflies. “You’re quite the genius aren’t you?”

“Well, I don't believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

Derek just stares at him.

“So, yeah, I guess I’m a genius?” he says bashfully.

Derek laughs, shaking his head. “Definitely a genius. I mean, Penelope told me you were clever, but this is like… insane. Are you sure you’re okay to go out with a mere mortal like me or should I see myself out?”

“Yeah actually, Derek, sorry, it’s not going to work out,” Spencer says, feigning seriousness. “I can’t be with anybody who’s not within twenty IQ points of me or doesn’t have at least two PhDs.”

“A good actor, too? What don’t you have going for you, pretty boy?” He laughs in that wild and free kind of way Spencer always wishes he could, and he wonders whether Derek could teach him how.

Derek watches him like there’s something special about Spencer as the sound of their laughter mingles, looks at him like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be but right here, right now, and the warm intensity of it has a buzz going in Spencer’s chest, a pleasant feeling he can’t imagine anything dousing, and he never wants Derek to take his eyes off him again. Not if this is how it’s always going to make him feel.

The hours of the afternoon fly by and all of a sudden the sun is setting and they’re feeling distinctly hungry.

“How do you feel about getting some street food and taking a wander down to the beach?” Derek suggests hopefully, and Spencer can’t help the wide grin that splits his cheeks at the idea.

“Let’s do it.”

The beach is slightly cooler than the garden now the sun is setting and a soft, salty breeze is floating in from the ocean, so they sit close together in the sand, sharing their servings of nachos and fries between them.

“What’s your family like?” Spencer asks, a little daringly after a couple of minutes of comfortable silence.

Derek smiles. “They’re amazing. It’s been just me, my mom, and my two sisters since I was ten years old, but I think losing my dad only brought us closer together, y’know? We had to learn from a young age how to rely on each other, and we were also taught the very valuable lesson of just how important family is and how nothing in life is guaranteed, so we’ve made every effort to be as close to one another as possible.”

Spencer watches with quiet admiration as Derek gushes about his family, and takes another bite of their nachos. “Do they live locally?”

“No, they’re all still back in Chicago,” Derek says. “It’s sad sometimes, being so far away from them, but they would have killed me if I’d stuck around back home just for them and hadn’t chased my dream of climbing the ladder of the FBI.”

Spencer nods, chuckling along with Derek as they stare out at the quiet, tumbling waves of the ocean.

“What about you?” Derek asks. “Are you close with your family?”

Shit. He hadn’t exactly considered that asking Derek about his family would lead to reverse questioning about his own. I mean, call him a genius all you want, but social interaction is not his area of expertise.

“Uh, it’s just me and my mom. She lives back in Vegas,” he explains, clearing his throat awkwardly as he hopes that’s enough to appease his date.

Truthfully, it probably would have been, but Derek doesn’t say anything immediately, and the silence feels like it’s choking him into admitting the truth, however much it makes his chest tighten and his stomach flip with anxiety. What if this is it? What if Derek doesn’t want to start something with someone who has a family history as fucked up as his? What if he reads between the lines and sees that Spencer could be just like his mom in the future, and thinks that starting a relationship is just too risky?

“She has paranoid schizophrenia,” he blurts out, the words rolling off his tongue without his express permission, and instead of shutting up, they just keep coming. “When my dad left when I was ten, I had to be her sole carer until I left for college at twelve, but even then she refused professional help and medication, so I was taking the train from Pasadena to Las Vegas every weekend to try and help her out, and it got messy a lot of the time. It was only when I turned eighteen that things got a little bit easier, and that was only because I betrayed her trust and had her sectioned into a Sanitorium.

“They’re amazing, they take really good care of her and I did my research obviously, but I think a part of her still resents me for doing that.”

He stares out at the ocean for a couple of seconds before he suddenly realises where he is and what he’s just done.

“Oh my god,” he says as horror and dread fill him from the bottom up, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have just dumped all that on you, I’m sorry, just—”

“Hey, pretty boy,” Derek says gently, placing a reassuring hand on his back to get his attention. “It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m just happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me all of that, and besides, I asked the question, and I meant it. I wanted to know the answer.”

Spencer feels some of the panic recede a little, and he looks up at Derek to try and gauge whether he’s telling the truth. “Really?”

Derek’s expression only softens further. “Really.”

He relaxes a little further and leans into Derek’s side, smiling to himself when Derek wraps his arm fully around his waist, resting his head on top of Spencer’s.

“I feel like I’ve known you way longer than just four hours and fifty six minutes,” Spencer says eventually.

Derek chuckles, and this time Spencer can feel the low rumble against his cheek as well as hear it. “It might be the biggest cliche in the book, but I feel exactly the same, baby.”

“I think sharing street food on the beach while staring out at a sunset as romantic and beautiful as that one has cemented the cliches in this date enough already,” Spencer points out, laughing a little.

“That is very true,” Derek agrees, squeezing his hand against Spencer’s waist. “We could round all the cliches off with a kiss, if you’d like.”

Spencer sits upright, blushing again as he eyes Derek’s flirtatious but serious expression. “I’d like that a lot.”

Derek wastes no time in taking Spencer’s jaw in his hand and leaning in slowly to place a long, sensuous kiss to his lips. Spencer kisses back with as much control as is possible when your experience is next to none and you have one of the most beautiful men in the world turning your stomach inside out with his attention, but it seems to be enough for Derek because as soon as they pull away, he’s grinning widely.

“You’re quite the kisser, pretty boy.”

Spencer fights the blush but it comes anyway. “I like that.”

Derek’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The kiss?”

“No, the pet names.”

Derek’s expression smooths out and he smiles again, a little more tenderly than his usual cheeky grin. “Well, that’s good, because I have plenty more up my sleeve, sweetheart.”

Spencer flushes with pleasure this time and settles back against Derek’s side, observing the blue sea as they settle into silence once more.

“I’m not very used to all of this, by the way,” he says after a while, the sky slowly darkening.

“Used to what?”

“This. Kissing. Dating. Pet names.”

Derek looks down at Spencer to try and get a better look at his face. “Really? You could’ve fooled me.”

“I’ve only ever had one boyfriend before, and this is only the second date I’ve ever been on.”

“Any girlfriends?”

“Not really my area.”

“And this other date, was that with boyfriend number one?”

Spencer shakes his head against Derek’s shoulder. “No, I never went on a date with him. I met him in college and we were friends first, so we never really dated, just fell into a relationship.”

“Ah.” A brief silence settles over them again, but Derek doesn’t let it hang long. “You know I’m not bothered by any of that, right? You could have never dated anyone ever before or have screwed your way round half of California and DC and it wouldn’t matter a single bit. Not if you were here with me, right now.”

He laughs softly as Derek lightens the mood, and something in Spencer’s chest feels like it falls into place at that, like his last anxious reservation has been washed away and he can really move forward, forge onward with this scarily exciting endeavour.

“You’re a good man, Derek Morgan. You know that, right?”

Derek kisses the top of his head. “I do,” he says, “but I’m not sure it’s ever sounded quite as special falling from anyone else’s lips as it does falling from yours.”

Further down the beach, another wave crashes against the shore, and the colours of the sunset fade away slowly. People pack up their picnic baskets and head home, and seagulls attack their leftovers, but none of that matters, because right now, Spencer’s world is Derek Morgan.

Penelope Garcia deserves a medal.

(Yes, I've used that "yeah I guess I'm a genius" sequence in way too many fics, leave me ALONE. )

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds @wifeyprentiss @cmily @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @hotchscotchh (add yourself to my taglist here!)

#my writing #moreid #criminal minds #cm #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #spencer reid/derek morgan #derek morgan x spencer reid #spencer reid x derek morgan #moreid fic #moreid fanfic #moreid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #moreid fluff #protective derek morgan #shy spencer reid

[artificialqueens]

The Carwash One (Biadore) - Whiskey Neat

A/N: Hello everyone! It's been a veryyyy long time but I'm finally back with another story. The reason I've been gone for so long is because I only really know how to write angst and Adore has seemed so much happier lately so I just couldn't bring myself to write about her being sad, even if it's fictional. But the Biadore drought has been killing me so I decided I had to whip something up. I'm not sure when I will post on here again but don't ever think I'm gone for good. Hope you all enjoy this one! PS: Please go easy on me because this is the first time I've written in probably a year so my skills are a bit rusty. 

Summary: Adore is scared of carwashes but goes in one anyway because Bianca needed to.  

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon when Adore’s phone vibrated next to her on the couch. 

Willow: “YOU BUSY?” 

Brat ❤️: “Not really. What’s up?”

Willow: “WANNA RUN ERRANDS WITH ME?”

Brat ❤️: “Aw does grandma need help carrying her groceries? 👵🏽” 

Willow: “🖕🏽🖕🏽🖕🏽“

Willow: “I’LL BE THERE IN 20” 

Brat❤️: “Why do you always type in caps?? It’s like you’re yelling at me!” 

Willow: “I AM”

20 minutes later Adore and Bianca were on their way to store. Well, several stores. They stopped at multiple fabric stores, the grocery store, and a crystal shop (by special request of Adore of course). Now all that was left was the gas station. 

While filling her car with gas, Bianca noticed how dirty it was. Can’t be caught driving around Palm Springs with a car this dirty, she thought. 

“We’re going to the car wash!” Bianca announced when she re-entered the car. 

“What? No!” Adore exclaimed, a little too loudly. She had never mentioned this to Bianca, but Adore had an irrational fear of car washes ever since she had gotten trapped in one with her mom when she was a child. 

“No?” Bianca asked, confused by Adore’s reaction. 

“I mean…can we just go home please? I like really have to pee.” Adore pleaded. It was a dumb excuse and Adore knew it, but she currently felt too embarrassed to express her weird little fear to the older queen. 

“There’s a bathroom right there.” Bianca told her, pointing to the gas station building.

“But I don’t wanna go in there.” Adore whined, wrinkling up her nose. 

Bianca didn’t blame her. Gas station bathrooms could be a bit questionable to say the least. 

“We’ll be quick then.” Bianca said, starting the car and pulling around to the back of the building where the car washes were. 

Adore stayed silent, knowing there was no getting out of this without telling the truth. The logical side of her brain knew Bianca wouldn’t judge her fear, but the overthinking side kept her mouth clamped shut in embarrassment. 

By the time the pair had made their way through the line of cars, Adore was near tears. They were next and she was going to die in there. 

Bianca could tell something was off by the way Adore was silently gripping her phone with white knuckles, but before she got the chance to ask, the door opened in front of them signaling for them to pull inside. 

As soon as the door shut behind them and the water started pounding against the sides of the car, Bianca heard a strangled whimpering noise come from the passenger seat. 

Her gaze immediately turned to the younger queen who was visibly shaking and had tears pouring down her cheeks. 

“Shit. Shit! Hey, what’s going on?” Bianca asked, feeling slightly panicked now as she noticed that it looked like Adore was struggling to breathe. 

“I c-can’t-“ Adore gasped, nails clawing at her seatbelt as if it was crushing her. 

Bianca quickly reached over the center console, pressing the release button on Adore’s seatbelt, watching as her friend tore it off her body before latching her hands onto Bianca’s arm in panic. 

“Hey, I need you to breathe. Can you do that for me? Deep breaths babygirl.” Bianca tried to comfort. 

Adore gasped, trying to get enough air but she couldn’t. She couldn’t. The water was pounding against the outside of the vehicle but it felt like it was filling her lungs and choking her. 

“Adore…Danny, listen to me. Take a deep breath. You can do it.” Adore heard Bianca say, feeling a reassuring hand rubbing up and down her tattooed arm. 

Focusing on Bianca’s touch, she tried again to take a breath, this time feeling more air enter her lungs. 

“That’s it baby, do it again.” Bianca encouraged, continuing to stroke her arm. 

With the help of Bianca, she repeated the action several more times until her hyperventilating calmed to intense, but controllable sobs. 

“What’s wrong? Why is this happening?” Bianca calmly asked her. 

“I’m scared of-“ Adore started, voice getting cut off by a car horn honking behind them. They both looked up, only to find that the doors had opened and the car behind them was waiting for them to move forward. 

“Go. Go!” Adore exclaimed, fumbling to re-buckle her seatbelt. 

Bianca rushed to shift the car into drive and drove out into the parking lot, pulling into a spot. 

“You were scared of the carwash?” Bianca asked, turning to face Adore. 

Adore nodded slightly, shrinking in her seat to avoid Bianca’s gaze.  

“It’s…it’s stupid. When I was a kid, I went in one with my mom and the doors broke. We were stuck in there for like 30 minutes and my brothers thought it was funny but it wasn’t! It was so small and I couldn’t breathe and-“ Adore’s voice cracked. 

“It’s okay…I’m sorry that happened.” Bianca said, reaching over to hold Adore’s hand. 

Adore took a shaky breath. “My mom took me out for ice cream after to calm me down…my brothers didn’t get any cause they made fun of me but it still was NOT cool.” 

“Well, you’re safe now…and for once I’m not gonna make fun of you.” Bianca told her, lightly chuckling at the last part of Adore’s story. 

“You don’t think I’m stupid?” Adore asked, wiping her tears on her sleeve. 

“Depends on the context.” Bianca joked. “I just wish you would’ve told me before so we could’ve avoided that whole situation.” 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Now I know for next time. Any other unique fears I should know about?” 

Adore thought for a second before cringing. “Roaches. I fucking hate roaches.” 

“Got it. No roaches.” Bianca replied, squeezing Adore’s hand. “Should I take you out for ice cream now?” 

“Stop.” Adore said, playfully rolling her eyes. 

“So you don’t want ice cream?”

“I didn’t say that.”

#submission #rpdr fanfiction #biadore #adore delano #bianca del rio #angst #hurt/comfort #whiskey neat #tw panic attack

[birdsaesthetic]

He wasn’t perfect, but he was so damn close

Note: This's a filler for what happens after the last scene in First impression, after that one crazy night Jeller had. I completed this fic a long time ago, true, but I loved it and I got some comments say that I should update, so I decided to dig deeper into the story by filing it with more scenes that still don't change how the ending went. And guys there’s fluff at the end I can’t wait for you t read. On Fanfiction

___

The morning after that crazy night, and for the next number of days, Kurt tried in every breath and every way to tell his wife that he was sorry, that it would never happen again; Jane, on the other hand, did all the things she'd always done on daily basis, except that she didn't look at him, and whenever he caught her eye, she intentionally looked away, as if his gaze were venom to be avoided.

Jane didn't bother to ask him what he did when he'd gotten off from work on that Thursday, or where he'd been. Though if it'd occurred to her that she wanted to do so and get the truth out of him, she could've done it. Easily so. But then again, she didn't bother, because the truth was there, blatant: he'd left her, and Peter, when they needed him the most…

She still asked him how his days were and made appropriate responses when he told her. Other than that, though, she always pretended to be busy with Peter so she wouldn't have to spend time with him.

He, during these dull days, watched her in earnest, in a desperate, longing way, while she was simply searching for something in their living room; or starching her neck in the morning; or peeling an apple with her knuckle guiding the blade; or massaging the small of Peter's back with her feather-like touches; or making their bed in her underwear to let the cream she'd rubbed all over her legs and arms soak in before dressing. He couldn't help the feeling of sudden panic hitting him at the chest that he'd almost not met her and married her and started a family with her if she, all these years ago, hadn't plotted her way into his life but had chosen someone else's life. He loved her way more than a human heart could, and loved the little one they'd created the same way. But did he deserve to be loved the same way? That was a doubt within himself these days…

If she would come over and yell at him about it, he'd be ashamed of himself—so damn ashamed—but he'd tell the her truth, that he what did on that day was really nothing, that he was basically just sitting alone at a quiet place, away from others, having a few drinks, because he was tired out, consumed to the fullest, and his entire being couldn't endure anything anymore, by all means.

You think that I'm not tired of it, too? she would cut through whatever he would've been saying afterward, yelling, though her voice would crack at the last few words, and here he'd look down and say nothing no more. He wouldn't know what to say then, and wouldn't know what do, either. He'd go silent, feeling the blood in his body boil, until his silence stretched so long that when he'd finally look up, to start begging her with his eyes to see how sorry be was—because that was all he was: sorry—he'd find her long gone from his surrounding.

____

"What can I do, Jane?" Kurt asked her the next Saturday morning, in the kitchen, grabbing her wrist to stop her from going over to Peter as he just started fussing. Instantly, her eyes flew to his, and if his grab hadn't indeed stopped her from moving, the plea she saw in his eyes would've done it.

"What do you want me to do, huh?"

She stared at him for a long minute, and he stared right back. He could see her thinking now. Behind those green eyes and pursed lips, he could see her thinking. But, by then, little Peter, alone in his room, was crying his heart out, and the sound got louder and louder by every passing second they wasted staring at one another.

"You know how much I hate such questions, Kurt," she told him, over the sound of Peter's screams, then yanked her wrist away and went straight to Peter. What her husband just asked her lacked profundity in it, she thought. He was basically asking her what he should do so she'd tell him to do this and that and he'd, of course, do this and that immediately. And then what? Then she was supposed to let whatever happened slide? That was way too easy on his side, and way too difficult on her side.

He sighed, as he watched her go before his eye. He was tired physically and emotionally. He'd been relying on two to three hours of sleep daily—and Jane's sleep was more or less like his, too. But aside from being unable to sleep at nights because of their baby's colic, she'd been consuming his thoughts, eating his brain, keeping him up at nights even when she didn't know it. Why did that have to happen to them? He could count the days when she'd slept angry at him—or the opposite—using his own fingers. The number was one digit. It was small, manageable. But now… Now they were only a few days apart from this number to become two digits.

On Saturday mornings they used to go on walks with Peter, but this Saturday Kurt sat alone in the kitchen, listening to Peter cry, and Jane shushing him. It was cloudy and dark outside today, and apparently the sadness of the day from outside snuck inside their place.

He sat, and thought.

He tried to think of the beginning of their marriage, their first year in the apartment in Colorado. The memories seemed almost too sweet to be real. Did they have arguments? They must've had, of course, but he couldn't recall any. They must have been short-lived. Silly, even. About food, most likely.

"Do you want Italian or Chinese for dinner?" Jane once asked him.

"I want what you want." Kurt shrugged lazily.

"Just tell me what it is that you want."

"I'm happy doing whatever."

"Now, this is so frustrating!"

"How is this frustrating? What's going on?"

"I'm asking something, but you're not putting the slightest effort into helping me!"

"How did you just make me not helping you here, Jane? Ugh, let's just get sushi. Is that okay?"

And that was that.

He wondered if they had fights back then, and smiled when he almost immediately could recall some of their fights and how ridiculous they were in comparison to now: It's-your-turn-to-turn-out-the-light fight—this had been a classic fight of theirs. There had been rare nights when the light switch flicked off without a fight. After all, who, of them, was sane enough to get out of bed while the other was lying naked in it? Kurt would refuse, always, and Jane would curse him aloud in another language, or maybe throw a punch or two at him. They would fight for a while, raise their voices during the late hour. But then, and in a heartbeat, they'd just make up for all of that and kiss and make love and completely forget about it the next morning.

It had been rather fun, having such arguments and fights back then, Kurt thought to himself. It wasn't about winning; it certainly wasn't about who was right and who was wrong. In fact, it was during those heated moments when they truly got to learn who the other person was, deeply, which ultimately made them stronger as a couple.

On this Saturday afternoon, however, they were trapped inside. They couldn't depart from their apartment due to the weather, nor could they have any fun inside. But they did spend a typical day at home anyway; they showered and cooked and cleaned and rushed around to go cuddle Peter when his stomach pain hit him. Though they did all these things from within glass walls, so when Kurt exchanged pleasantries with Jane, at dinner, he felt as if he were pushing his words through a chink in the glass.

On the following days, things between them become easier, somewhat—only because there was an effort, being made by the two of them to make things better. In the morning, she found him sharing a warm bath with Peter, because it was good for Peter; it made the pain in his belly easy off, if only slightly. And when he asked her to join them in the bath, she shook her head and said, "No. I'll let you guys have some quiet time together. Father and son. And I'll go have 'me' time. But before I go, do you need towels?"

At the end of the day, when she sat on the couch and tried to find something good on television, he came over and sat next to her and she allowed it, didn't mumble 'good night' and withdraw and call it a day like before. The first thing he did after getting off from work was come straight home, drop his things by the door and go have Peter for the remaining of the day—it was such a break for Jane, and it was so sweet to see father and son staring at each other over the bottle while he drank his milk.

She began looking at him again, sometimes just long enough to let him know that she knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn't perfect, but he was so damn close.

____

In the dead of the night, while they were asleep, Peter started his usual crying. Kurt put a hand on Jane's hip and told her to keep sleeping, and then he picked up Peter and rocked him and offered a bottle and a song hummed low. It wasn't his fault that Peter didn't seem to settle until Jane came over and had him in her arms. Afterward, Kurt, standing there listless, made a joke at his lame situation, implying that, if he could get a wig resembling Jane's hair and have his entire body tattooed just like hers on the slim chance that perhaps Peter would mistake him for his mother and quiet down, he seriously would. Jane laughed. She laughed aloud at the joke he made, effortlessly so, even though it was dark, Peter was still wailing, and she was so tired.

After she laughed and he drank up the sound of her laughter to the last drop, he then added, "But… I know it's more than just our looks. I don't believe that Peter recognizes us by our looks at this early age. At least not mainly. But perhaps through our smells, body temperature and texture. Our voices."

She looked up at him, and offered the smallest of smiles. "You're right."

They went back to bed, after having made sure Peter was comfortable and asleep again. But half an hour passed by and they were yet to fall back asleep. They kept rolling from one side to another and sighing through the silence of their bedroom. For ten minutes straight he was staring at the dark mess of her hair from the back, then, for the next ten minutes or so, when he flipped to his side and she flipped to his side, too, she was staring at the bare of his upper back. Both wanted to reach out for the other and say something, but the thought of disturbing each other's sleep for the second time tonight was out of the question.

It wasn't until at one point they happened to face each other that Kurt placed a light hand on Jane's cheek and brushed his thumb there. Her eyes had been slightly open then, but now she had to close them and relish the moment at the soft of his touch.

"Jane, are we okay?" he asked, keeping his voice to whispers. "You and me?"

She opened her eyes again, and saw him looking so worried. She saw his own eyes and saw tears shimmering there. Crawling toward him, she placed a hand over his own, light yet somehow firm. "Yes, we're okay. Of course," she reassured him, and the worried look he'd been wearing just seconds ago, disappeared completely. He only needed to know this, only needed to hear this from her.

He brought her closer to him, kissed her forehead, nose, lips, cheekbones, and everywhere he could reach. When he drew back, he saw her grinning, her white teeth gleaming in the dark. "Do that all over again, please?" she whispered, her hand on his hair, and he did it all over again, though this time he seemed more confident, his kisses were relatively harder, his hands on her placed themselves in decent places: her neck, her back.

It felt so damn good to be kissed by him again, and it felt just as good to kiss him back. She hadn't been looking at him some days ago, let alone tolerate his touch. But now, she thought that she could spend a lifetime like this, letting him kiss her senselessly, and she'd be perfectly and entirely happy.

"Hey, Kurt," she called softly, framing his face with both hands. "It's a great idea actually! You get be me this next Halloween! And I can help you with that."

Kurt chuckled in disbelief, but she continued, "What? It's Peter's first Halloween ever. We have to make it fun for him."

He stole a kiss from her parted lips. "Sure, we have to make it fun for him. But we don't want to scare him! It's enough what he's going through."

"Of course we don't want to scare him! He's barely four months old by now. It's all gonna be light and fun and we'll get to snap so many photos of him while in a costume! I can't wait for it!"

"Think I'm not gonna look scary as hell while in your costume, fully-tattooed and a messy, dark wig over my head? I'm gonna look scary for certain, Jane. Just begin to imagine it."

"Did you just you mean that I look scary all the tim—"

"No, no, no. No. No. That's not what I meant here." He sniggered, burying his face deep in her neck. Then, shortly, he surfaced. "It's me who's gonna look scary in the tattoos and a wig! You've never ever looked scary in the tattoos."

"You won't look scary!"

"Yes, I will," he said, seeming certain and somehow sad. "And Peter is never gonna stop crying at the sight of me."

"I think you're gonna look sexy, honestly." She smirked, and he sighed as she continued, "And I think Peter's gonna like you, since he already likes me more than you now and I'm gonna make you look just like me!"

"Who are you gonna dress up as for Halloween, then?" he asked, his eyes tracing the lines of her face as his fingers began sneaking down to inappropriate places in her body, though he was totally entitled to do so.

"I'm not sure yet. But…" She couldn't continue until she stole a few kisses from him, randomly, everywhere she could reach. "But I'll be thinking about it. And I'll be thinking about Peter's costume, too, till then."

He was tearing off her t-shirt and got a little giddy at the sight of her nakedness when she concluded, "At least…now… Now, you're done. You should feel lucky that you're done, and not complain or worry anymore about your costume."

Feeling, indeed, so lucky, he was again atop of her now, and between his skin and hers, there was the smallest of spaces, barely enough for air, for the slick of sweat soon would be chilling. "I know, I won't complain nor worry. And, yes, I feel so, so damn lucky. Umm, you really think I'm gonna look sexy in your tattoos?"

"Shirtless? Yes, I really do," she whispered, then there was a hum slipping from her lips as he kissed her neck in a way that time seemed to stop.

They knew that they should be sleeping instead of talking about ridiculous Halloween costumes, and knew that sleep was probably better for them now than laughing and making noises and rocking the whole place. But then again, they didn't care. This was the most they'd talked in weeks, and this was the only sex they'd had in months.

"How are you gonna do it? The tattoos on me?" he asked her, some minutes after they calmed down and came back to earth. She slowly ran a hand over his chest as if examining it—already could visualize the fake  tattoos on him—before she replied, "Basically, I'm gonna draw them all over your body, with my magic marker!"

"Would that magic marker of yours wash off afterward?"

Giving him a mischievous look, she whispered, "let's hope so."

#First impression #jeller #blindspot #blindspotfic #my other fics #baby colic

[96harmony96]

Chapter 8 part 1

“Camila.”

I jumped and spun around in my chair, startled to find Lauren standing beside my cubicle. The sight of her blew me away, as usual, and my heart stuttered in my chest. A quick glance at the clock proved that a quarter hour had passed in no time at all.

“Lau—Miss. Jauregui. You didn’t have to come down here.”

Her face was calm and impassive, but her eyes were stormy and hot. “Ready?”

I opened my drawer and pulled out my purse, taking the opportunity to suck in a deep, shaky breath. she smelled phenomenal and looked even better.

“Miss Jauregui.” Mark’s voice. “It’s great to see you. Is there something—?”

“I’m here for Camila. We have a lunch date.”

I straightened in time to see Mark’s brows shoot up. He recovered quickly, his face smoothing into its usual good-natured handsomeness.

“I’ll be back at one,” I assured her.

“See you then. Enjoy your lunch.”

Lauren put her hand at the small of my back and steered me out to the elevators, garnering raised brows from Megumi when we passed reception. I shifted restlessly as she hit the call button for the elevator, wishing I could’ve made it through the day without seeing the woman whose touch I craved like a drug.

she faced me as we waited for the car, running her fingertips down the sleeve of my satin blouse. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you in that red dress. I hear the sounds you make when you’re turned on. I feel you sliding over my cock, squeezing me like a fist, making me come so hard it hurts.”

“Don’t.” I looked away, unable to bear the intimate way she was looking at me.

“I can’t help it.”

The arrival of the elevator was a relief. she caught my hand and pulled me inside. After she put her key in the panel, she tugged me closer. “I’m going to kiss you, Camila.”

“I don’t—”

she pulled me into her and sealed her mouth over mine. I resisted as long as I could; then I melted at the feel of her tongue stroking slow and sweet over mine. I’d wanted her kiss since we’d had sex. I wanted the reassurance that she valued what we’d shared, that it meant something to her as it had to me.

I was left bereft once again when she pulled away.

“Come on.” she pulled the key out as the door opened.

Lauren’s redheaded receptionist said nothing this time, although she eyed me strangely. In contrast, Lauren’s secretary, Scott, stood when we approached and greeted me pleasantly by name.

“Good afternoon, Miss Cabello.”

“Hi, Scott.”

Lauren gave him a curt nod. “Hold my calls.”

“Yes, of course.”

I entered Lauren’s expansive office, my gaze drifting to the sofa where she’d first touched me intimately.

Lunch was arranged on the bar—two plates covered in metal salvers.

“Can I take your purse?” She asked.

I looked at her, saw she’d taken off her jacket and slung it over her arm. she stood there in her tailored slacks and vest, her shirt and tie both a pristine white, her hair dark and thick around her breathtaking face, her eyes a wild and dazzling blue. In a word, she amazed me. I couldn’t believe I’d made love to such a gorgeous woman.

But then, it hadn’t meant the same thing to her.

“Camila ?”

“You’re beautiful, Lauren.” The words fell out of my mouth without conscious thought.

Her brows lifted; then a softness came into her eyes. “I’m glad you like what you see.”

I handed her my purse and moved away, needing the space. she hung her coat and my purse on the coatrack, then moved to the bar.

I crossed my arms. “Let’s just get this over with. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Lauren shoved a hand through her hair and exhaled harshly. “You don’t mean that.”

I was suddenly very tired, exhausted from fighting with myself over her. “I really do. You and me…it was a mistake.”

Her jaw tightened. “It wasn’t. The way I handled it afterward was the mistake.”

I stared at her, startled by the fierceness of her denial. “I wasn’t talking about the sex, Lauren. I’m talking about my agreeing to this crazy strangers-with-benefits deal between us. I knew it was all wrong from the beginning. I should’ve listened to my instincts.”

“Do you want to be with me, Camila?”

“No. That’s what—”

“Not like we discussed at the bar. More than that.”

My heart started to pound. “What are you talking about?”

“Everything.” she left the bar and came closer. “I want to be with you.”

“You didn’t seem like you did Saturday.” My arms tightened around my middle.

“I was…reeling.”

“So? I was, too.”

Her hands went to her hips. Then her arms crossed like mine. “Christ, Camila.”

I watched her squirm and felt a flare of hope. “If that’s all you’ve got, we’re done.”

“The hell we are.”

“We’ve already hit a dead end if you’re going to take a head trip every time we have sex.”

she visibly struggled with what to say. “I’m used to having control. I need it. And you blew it all to hell in the limousine. I didn’t handle that well.”

“Ya think?”

“Camila.” she approached. “I’ve never experienced anything like that. I didn’t think it was possible for me to. Now that I have…I’ve got to have it. I’ve got to have you.”

“It’s just sex, Lauren. Super awesome sex, but that can seriously screw with your head when the two people doing it aren’t good for each other.”

“Bullshit. I’ve admitted I fucked up. I can’t change what happened, but I can sure as shit get pissed that you want to cut me off because of it. You laid out your rules and I adjusted to accommodate them, but you won’t make even a tiny adjustment for me. You have to meet me halfway.” Her face was hard with frustration. “At least give me a damn inch.”

I stared at her, trying to figure out what she was doing and where this was going. “What do you want, Lauren?” I asked softly.

she caught me to her and cupped my cheek in one hand. “I want to keep feeling the way I feel when I’m with you. Just tell me what I have to do. And give me some room to screw up. I’ve never done this before. There’s a learning curve.”

I placed my palm over her heart and felt its pounding rhythm. she was anxious and passionate, and that had me on edge. How was I supposed to respond? Did I go with my gut or my common sense? “Done what before?”

“Whatever it takes to spend as much time with you as possible. In and out of bed.”

The rush of delight that swept through me was ridiculously powerful. “Do you understand how much work and time a relationship between us is going to take, Lauren? I’m wiped out already. Plus I’m still working on some personal stuff, and I have my new job…my crazy mother…”

My fingers covered her mouth before she could open it. “But you’re worth it, and I want you bad enough. So I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“Camila. Damn you.” Lauren lifted me, hitching one arm beneath my rear to urge me to wrap my legs around her waist. she kissed me hard on the mouth and nuzzled her nose against mine. “We’ll figure it out.”

“You say that as if it’ll be easy.” I knew I was high-maintenance and she was obviously going to be the same.

“Easy’s boring.” she carried me over to the bar and set me down on a barstool. she pulled the dome off my place setting and revealed a massive cheeseburger and fries. The meal was still warm, thanks to a heated granite slab beneath the plate.

“Yum,” I murmured, becoming aware of how hungry I was. Now that we’d talked, my appetite had returned full force.

she snapped open my napkin and laid it over my lap with a squeeze to my knee; then she took the seat beside me. “So, how do we do this?”

“Well, you pick it up with your hands and put it in your mouth.”

she shot me a wry look that made me smile. It felt good to smile. It felt good to be with her. It usually did…for a little while. I took a bite of my burger, moaning when I got a full hit of its flavor. It was a traditional cheeseburger, but the taste was divine.

“Good, right?” She asked.

“Very good. In fact, a guy who knows about burgers this good might be worth keeping to myself.” I wiped my mouth and hands. “How resistant are you to exclusivity?”

As she set her burger down, there was an eerie stillness to her. I couldn’t begin to guess what she was thinking. “I assumed that was implied in our arrangement. But to avoid any doubts, I’ll be clear and say there won’t be any other men for you, Camila.”

A shiver moved through me at the blunt finality in her tone and the iciness of her gaze. I knew she had a dark side; I’d learned long ago how to spot and avoid men who had dangerous shadows in their eyes. But the familiar alarm bells didn’t ring around Lauren as they maybe should have. “But women are okay?” I asked to lighten the mood.

Her brows rose. “I know your roommate is bisexual. Are you?”

“Would that bother you?”

“Sharing you would bother me. It’s not an option. Your body belongs to me, Camila.”

“And yours belongs to me? Exclusively?”

Her gaze turned hot. “Yes, and I expect you to take frequent and excessive advantage of it.

Well, then…“But you’ve seen me naked,” I teased, my voice husky. “You know what you’re getting. I don’t. I love what I’ve seen of your body so far, but that hasn’t been a whole lot.”

“We can rectify that now.”

The thought of her stripping for me made me squirm in my seat. she noticed and her mouth curved wickedly.

“You’d better not,” I said regretfully. “I was late getting back on Friday.”

“Tonight, then.”

I swallowed hard. “Absolutely.”

“I’ll be sure to clear my schedule by five.” she resumed eating, completely at ease with the fact that we’d both just penciled “mind-blowing sex” into our mental day calendars.

“You don’t have to.” I opened the mini ketchup bottle by my plate. “I need to hit the gym after work.”

“We’ll go together.”

“Really?” I turned the bottle upside down and thumped the bottom with my palm.

she took it from me and used her knife to coax the ketchup onto my plate. “It’s probably best for me to work off some energy before I get you naked. I’m sure you’d like to be able to walk tomorrow.”

I stared at her, astonished by the casualness with which she’d made the statement and the rueful amusement on her face that told me she wasn’t entirely kidding. My sex clenched in delicious anticipation. I could easily picture becoming seriously addicted to Lauren Jauregui.

I ate some fries, thinking of someone else who was addicted to Lauren. “Magdalene could be a problem for me.”

she swallowed a bite of her burger and washed it down with a swig from her bottled water. “She told me she’d talked to you, and that it didn’t go well.”

I gave props to Magdalene’s scheming and the clever attempt to cut me off at the pass. I’d have to be very careful with her, and Lauren was going to have to do something about her—like cut her off, period.

“No, it didn’t go well,” I agreed. “But then I don’t appreciate being told that you don’t respect the women you fuck and that the moment you shoved your dick into me you were done with me.”

Lauren stilled. “She said that?”

“Word for word. She also said you’re keeping on her ice until you’re ready to settle down.”

“Did she now?” Her low voice had a chilling bite to it.

My stomach knotted, knowing things could either go really right or really wrong, depending on what Lauren said next. “Don’t you believe me?”

“Of course I believe you.”

“She could be a problem for me,” I repeated, not letting it go.

“She won’t be a problem. I’ll talk to her.”

I hated the thought of her talking to her, because it made me sick with jealousy. I figured that was an issue I should disclose up front. “Lauren…”

“Yes?” she’d finished her burger and was working on the fries.

“I’m a very jealous person. I can be irrational with it.” I poked at my burger with a fry. “You might want to think about that, and whether or not you want to deal with someone who has self-esteem issues like I do. It was one of my sticking points when you first propositioned me, knowing it was going to drive me nuts having women salivating all over you and not having the right to say anything about it.”

“You have the right now.”

“You’re not taking me seriously.” I shook my head and took another bite of my cheeseburger.

“I’ve never been as serious about anything in my life.” Reaching over, Lauren ran a fingertip over the corner of my mouth, and then licked off the dab of sauce she’d collected. “You’re not the only one who can get possessive. I’m very proprietary about what’s mine.”

I didn’t doubt that for a minute.

I took another bite and thought of the night ahead. I was eager. Ridiculously so. I was dying to see Lauren naked. Dying to run my hands and lips all over her. Dying to have another go at driving her crazy. And I was damn near desperate to be under her, to feel her straining over me, pounding into me, coming hard and deep inside me…

“Keep thinking those thoughts,” she said roughly, “and you’ll be late again.”

I looked at her with raised brows “How did you know what I’m thinking?”

“You get this look on your face when you’re turned on. I intend to put that look on your face as often as possible.” Lauren covered her plate again and stood, withdrawing a business card from her pocket and setting it down beside me. I could see that she’d written her home and cell phone numbers on the back. “I feel stupid asking this question considering our present conversation, but I need your cell phone number.”

“Oh.” I forcibly dragged my thoughts out of the bedroom. “I have to get one first. It’s on my to-do list.”

“What happened to the phone you were texting with last week?”

My nose wrinkled. “My mother was using it to track my movements around the city. She’s a tad…overprotective.”

“I see.” she brushed the backs of her fingers down my cheek. “That’s what you were talking about when you said your mom is stalking you.”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Okay, then. We’ll take care of the phone after work before we head to the gym. It’s safer for you to have one. And I want to be able to call you whenever I feel like it.”

I set down the quarter of my burger that I couldn’t eat, and wiped my hands and mouth. “That was delicious. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” she leaned over me and pressed her lips briefly to mine. “Do you need to use the washroom?”

“Yes. I need my toothbrush from my purse, too.”

A few minutes later, I found myself standing in a washroom hidden behind a door that blended seamlessly with the mahogany paneling behind the flat screens. We brushed our teeth side by side at the double sink vanity, our gazes meeting in our mirrored reflections. It was such a domestic, normal thing to do and yet we both seemed to delight in it.

“I’ll take you back down,” she said, crossing her office to the coatrack.

I followed her, but veered off when we reached her desk. I went to it and put my hand on the clear space in front of her chair. “Is this where you are most of the day?”

“Yes.” she shrugged into her jacket and I wanted to bite her, she looked so delectable.

Instead, I hopped up to sit directly in front of her chair. According to my watch I had five minutes. Barely enough time to get back to work, but still. I couldn’t resist exercising my new rights. I pointed at her chair. “Sit.”

Her brows rose, but she came over without argument and settled gracefully into the seat.

I spread my legs and crooked my finger. “Closer.”

she rolled forward, filling the space between my thighs. she wrapped her arms around my hips and looked up at me. “One day soon, Camila, I’m going to fuck you right here.”

“Just a kiss for now,” I murmured, bending forward to take her mouth. With my hands on her shoulders for balance, I licked across her parted lips; then slipped inside and teased her with gentleness.

Groaning, she deepened the kiss, eating at my mouth in a way that made me achy and wet.

“One day soon,” I repeated against her lips, “I’m going to kneel beneath this desk and suck you off. Maybe while you’re on the phone playing with your millions like Monopoly. You, Miss Jauregui, will pass Go and collect your two hundred dollars.”

Her mouth curved against mine. “I can see how this is going to go. You’re going to make me lose my mind coming everywhere I can in your tight, sexy body.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Angel, I’m salivating.”

I was bemused by the endearment, although I liked its sweetness. “Angel?”

she hummed a soft assent and kissed me.

I couldn’t believe what a difference an hour made. I left Lauren’s office in a completely different frame of mind than when I’d entered it. The feel of her hand at the small of my back made my body hum with anticipation rather than the misery I’d felt on the way in.

I waved bye to Scott and smiled brightly at the unsmiling receptionist.

“I don’t think she likes me,” I told Lauren, as we waited for the elevator.

“Who?”

“Your receptionist.”

she glanced over that way and the redhead beamed at her.

“Well,” I murmured. “She likes you.”

“I guarantee her paychecks.”

My mouth curved. “Yes, I’m sure that’s what it is. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with you being the sexiest woman alive.”

“Am I now?” she caged me to the wall and burned me with a searing gaze.

I set my hands against her abdomen, licking my lower lip when I felt the hard ridges of muscle tighten under my touch. “Just an observation.”

“I like you.” With her palms pressed flat to the wall on either side of my head, she lowered her mouth to mine and kissed me softly.

“I like you back. You do realize you’re at work, don’t you?”

“What good is being the boss if you can’t do what you want?”

“Hmm.”

When a car arrived, I ducked under Lauren’s arm and slid into it. she prowled in after me; then circled me like a predator, sliding up behind me to pull me back against her. Her hands pushed into my front pockets and splayed against my hipbones, keeping me tucked close. The warmth of her touch so close to where I ached for her was a special brand of torture. In retaliation, I wriggled my butt against her and smiled when she hissed out a breath and hardened.

“Behave,” she admonished gruffly. “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

“Will you think of me while you’re sitting at your desk?”

“Undoubtedly. You’ll definitely think about me while you’re sitting at yours. That’s an order, Miss Cabello.”

My head fell back against her chest, loving the bite of command in her voice. “I don’t see how I couldn’t, Miss Jauregui, considering how I think of you everywhere else I go.”

she stepped out with me when we reached the twentieth floor. “Thank you for lunch.”

“I think that’s my line.” I backed away. “See you later, Dark and Dangerous.”

Her brows rose at my nickname for her. “Five o’clock. Don’t make me wait.”

One of the cars in the left bank of elevators arrived. Megumi stepped out and Lauren stepped in, her gaze locked with mine until the doors closed.

“Whew,” she said. “You scored. I’m pea green with envy.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say to that. It was all still too new and I was afraid to jinx it. In the back of my mind, I knew these feelings of happiness couldn’t last. Everything was going too well.

I rushed to my desk and got to work.

“Camila.” I looked up to see Mark standing in the threshold of his office. “Could I talk to you a minute?”

“Of course.” I grabbed my tablet, even though his grim face and tone warned me they might not be needed. When Mark shut the door behind me, my apprehension increased. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” He waited until I was seated; then took the chair beside me rather than the one behind his desk. “I don’t know how to say this…”

“Just say it. I’ll figure it out.”

He looked at me with compassionate eyes and a cringe of embarrassment. “It’s not my place to interfere. I’m just your boss and there’s a line that comes with that, but I’m going to cross it because I like you, Camila, and I want you to work here for a long time.”

My stomach tightened. “That’s great. I really love my job.”

“Good. Good, I’m glad.” He shot me a quick smile. “Just…be careful with Jauregui, okay?”

I blinked, startled by the direction of the conversation. “Okay.”

“she’s brilliant, rich, and sexy, so I understand the appeal. As much as I love Steven, I get a little flustered around Jauregui myself. she’s just got that kind of pull.” Mark talked fast and shifted with obvious embarrassment. “And I can totally see why she’s interested in you. You’re beautiful, smart, honest, considerate…I could go on, because you’re great.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly, hoping I didn’t look as ill as I felt. This sort of warning from a friend, and knowing that others would think of me as just another babe-of-the-week, was exactly the sort of thing that preyed on my insecurities.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” he muttered, looking as miserable as I felt. “Part of that’s selfish, I’ll admit. I don’t want to lose a great assistant because she doesn’t want to work in a building owned by an ex.”

“Mark, it means a lot to me that you care and that I’m valuable to you around here. But you don’t have to worry about me. I’m a big girl. Besides, nothing is going to get me to quit this job.”

He blew out his breath, clearly relieved. “All right. Let’s put it away and get to work.”

So we did, but I set myself up for future torture by subscribing to a daily Google alert for Lauren’s name. And when five o’clock rolled around, my awareness of my many inadequacies was still spreading through my happiness like a stain.

Lauren was as prompt as she’d threatened to be and she didn’t seem to notice my introspective mood as we rode down in a crowded elevator. More than one woman in the car cast furtive glances in her direction, but that sort of thing I didn’t mind. she was hot. I would’ve been surprised if they hadn’t looked.

she caught my hand when we cleared the turnstiles, linking her fingers with mine. The simple, intimate gesture meant so much to me in that moment that my grip tightened on hers. And I’d really have to watch out for that. The moment I became grateful she was spending time with me would be the beginning of the end. Neither of us would respect me if that happened.

The Bentley SUV sat at the curb and Lauren’s driver stood at the ready by the rear door. Lauren looked at me. “I had some workout clothes packed and brought over, in case you were set on visiting your gym. Equinox, right? Or we can go to mine.”

“Where’s yours?”

“I prefer to go to the CrossTrainer on Thirty-fifth.”

My curiosity over how she knew which gym I frequented vanished when I heard the “Cross” in the name of her gym. “You wouldn’t happen to own the gym, would you?”

Her grin flashed. “The chain. Usually, I practice mixed martial arts with a personal trainer, but I use the gym occasionally.”

“The chain,” I repeated. “Of course.”

“Your choice,” she said considerately. “I’ll go wherever you want.”

“By all means, let’s go to your gym.”

she opened the back door, and I slid in and over. I set my purse and my gym bag on my lap, and looked out the window as the car pulled away from the curb. The sedan driving next to us was so close I wouldn’t have to lean far to touch it. Rush hour in Manhattan was something I was still getting used to. SoCal had bumper-to-bumper traffic, too, but it moved at a snail’s pace. Here in New York, speed mixed with the crush in a way that often made me close my eyes and pray to survive the trip.

It was a whole new world. A new city, new apartment, new job, and new partner. It was a lot to take on at once. I supposed it was understandable that I felt off-balance.

I glanced at Lauren and found her staring at me with an unreadable expression. Everything inside me twisted into a mess of wild lust and vibrating anxiety. I had no idea what I was doing with her, only that I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

We hit the cellular store first. The associate who helped us seemed highly susceptible to Lauren’s magnetic pull. She practically fell all over herself the minute she showed the slightest interest in anything, quickly launching into detailed explanations and leaning into her personal space to demonstrate.

I tried separating from them and finding someone who’d actually help me, but Lauren’s grip on my hand wouldn’t let me move more than touching distance away. Then we argued over who was going to pay, which she seemed to think should be her even though the phone and account were mine.

“You got your way with picking the service provider,” I pointed out, pushing her credit card aside and shoving mine at the girl.

“Because it’s practical. We’ll be on the same network, so calls to me are free.” she swapped the cards deftly.

“I won’t be calling you at all, if you don’t put your damn credit card away!”

That did the trick, although I could tell she was unhappy about it. she’d just have to get over it.

Once we got back in the Bentley, her mood seemed restored.

“You can head to the gym now, Angus,” she told her driver, settling back in the seat. Then she pulled her smartphone out of her pocket. she saved my new number into her contact list; then she took my new phone out of my hand and programmed my list with her home, office, and cell numbers.

she’d barely finished when we arrived at CrossTrainer. Not surprisingly, the three-story fitness center was a health enthusiast’s dream. I was impressed with every sleek, modern, top-of-the-line inch of it. Even the women’s locker room was like something out of a science fiction movie.

But my awe was totally eclipsed by Lauren herself when I finished changing into my workout clothes and found her waiting for me out in the hallway. she’d changed into long shorts and a tank, which gave me my first look at her bare arms and legs.

I came to an abrupt halt and someone coming out behind me bumped into me. I could barely manage an apology; I was too busy visually devouring Lauren’s smokin’ hot body. Her legs were toned and powerful, flawlessly proportional to her trim hips and waist. Her arms made my mouth water. Her biceps were precisely cut and her forearms were coursing with thick veins that were both brutal looking and sexy as hell. she’d tied her hair back, which showed off the definition of her neck and traps, and the sculpted angles of her face.

Christ. I knew this woman intimately. My brain couldn’t wrap itself around that fact, not while faced with the irrefutable evidence of how uniquely beautiful she was.

And she was scowling at me.

Straightening away from the wall where she’d been leaning, she came toward me, and then circled me. Her fingertips ran along my bare midriff and back as she made the revolution, sending goose bumps racing over my skin. When she stopped in front of me, I threw my arms around her neck and pulled her mouth down for a quick, playfully smacking kiss.

“What the hell are you wearing?” She asked, looking marginally appeased by my enthusiastic greeting.

“Clothes.”

“You look naked in that top.”

“I thought you liked me naked.” I was secretly pleased with my choice, which I’d made that morning before I’d known she’d be with me. The top was a triangle with long straps at the shoulders and ribs that secured with Velcro and could be worn in a variety of ways to allow the wearer to determine where her breasts needed the most support. It was specially designed for curvy women and was the first top I’d ever had that kept me from bouncing all over the place. What Lauren objected to was the nude color, which coordinated with the racing stripes on the matching black yoga pants.

“I like you naked in private,” she muttered. “I’ll need to be with you whenever you go to the gym.”

“I won’t complain, since I’m very much enjoying the view at the moment.” Plus, I was perversely excited by her possessiveness after the hurt she’d inflicted with her withdrawal Saturday night. Two very different extremes—the first of many, I was sure.

“Let’s get this over with.” shegrabbed my hand and led me away from the locker rooms, snatching two logo’d towels off a stack as we passed them. “I need to fuck you.”

“I need to be fucked.”

“Jesus, Camila.” Her grip on my hand tightened to the point that it hurt. “Where to? Free weights? Machines? Treadmills?”

“Treadmills. I want to run a bit.”

sheled me in that direction. I watched the way women followed her with their gazes, then their feet. They wanted to be in whatever section of the gym she was, and I couldn’t blame them. I was dying to see her in action, too.

When we reached the seemingly endless rows of treadmills and bikes, we found that there weren’t two treadmills free adjacent to each other.

Lauren walked up to a man who had two open on either side of him. “I’d be in your debt if you’d move over one.”

The guy looked at me and grinned. “Yeah, sure.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Lauren took over the man’s treadmill and motioned me to the one beside it. Before she programmed her workout, I leaned over to her. “Don’t burn off too much energy,” I whispered. “I want you missionary-style the first time. I’ve been having this fantasy of you on top, banging the hell out of me.”

Her gaze burned into me. “Camila, you have no idea.”

Nearly giddy with anticipation and a lovely surge of feminine power, I got on my treadmill and started at a brisk walk. While I warmed up, I set my iPod shuffle to random and when “Sexy Back” by Justin Timberlake came on I hit my stride and went full-out. Running was both a mental and physical exercise for me. Sometimes I wished just running fast could get me away from whatever was troubling me.

After twenty minutes I slowed, then stopped, finally risking a glance at Lauren who was running with the fluidity of a well-oiled machine. shewas watching CNN on the overhead screens, but she flashed a grin at me as I wiped the sweat off my face. I swigged from my water bottle as I moved to the machines, picking one that give me a clear view of her.

shewent a full thirty on the treadmill; then she moved to free weights, always keeping me in her line of sight. As she worked out, quickly and efficiently, I couldn’t help thinking how virile she was. It helped that I knew exactly what was in her shorts, but regardless, she was a woman who worked behind a desk, yet kept her body in combat shape.

When I grabbed a fitness ball to do some crunches, one of the trainers came up to me. As one would expect in a top-of-the-line gym, he was handsome and very nicely built.

“Hi,” he greeted me, with a movie star smile that showcased perfect white teeth. He had dark brown hair and eyes of nearly the same color. “First-timer, right? I haven’t seen you in here before.”

“Yes, first time.”

“I’m Daniel.” He extended his hand, and I gave him my name. “Are you finding everything you need, Camila?”

“So far so good, thanks.”

“What flavor smoothie did you go for?”

I frowned. “Excuse me?”

“Your free orientation smoothie.” He crossed his arms and his thick biceps strained the narrow cuffs of his uniform polo shirt. “You didn’t get one from the bar downstairs when you signed up? You’re supposed to.”

“Ah, well.” I shrugged sheepishly, thinking it was a nice touch all the same. “I didn’t have the usual orientation.”

“Did you get the tour? If not, let me take you around.” He touched my elbow lightly and gestured toward the stairs. “You also get a free hour of personal training. We could do that tonight or make an appointment for later in the week. And I’d be happy to take you down to the health bar and scratch that off the list, too.”

“Oh, I can’t really.” My nose wrinkled. “I’m not a member.”

“Ah.” He winked. “You’re here on a temp pass? That’s fine. You can’t be expected to make up your mind if you don’t get the full experience. I can assure you, though, that CrossTrainer is the best gym in Manhattan.”

Lauren appeared at Daniel’s shoulder. “The full experience is included,” she said, coming around and behind me to slide her arms around my waist, “when you’re the owner’s girlfriend.”

The word “girlfriend” reverberated through me, sending a crazy rush of adrenaline through my system. It was still sinking in that we had that level of commitment, but that didn’t stop me from thinking the designation had a nice ring to it.

“Miss Jauregui.” Daniel straightened and took a step back; then extended his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Daniel has me sold on the place,” I said to Lauren, as they shook hands.

“I thought I’d done that.” Her hair was wet with sweat and she smelled divine. I’d never known a sweaty man could smell so damn good.

Her hands stroked down my arms and I felt her lips on the crown of my head. “Let’s go. See you later, Daniel.”

I waved good-bye as we walked away. “Thanks, Daniel.”

“Anytime.”

“I bet,” Lauren muttered. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off your tits.”

“They’re very nice tits.”

she made a low growling noise. I hid my amusement.

[inkjam-moon]

Go Go (M)

This is part of Love Yourself: the Collab

Summary: Jimin’s been your best friend since you were little; but coming from a rich family he’s paid for everything, and he doesn’t realize that it hurts you when you can’t pay him back for all the presents and vacations. When he becomes CEO of his own successful company, it gets worse because he promised to always take care of you, but when secrets come out on the night of your graduation from university, will Jimin be able to keep his promise?

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff, hint of angst

Word Count: 9.2k

TW: unprotected sex, swearing, drinking, oral (female recieving), grinding, riding, cock warming, creampies

(Also this is my first piece back after my three month writers block so i’m not the happiest with it but oh well)

.

.

“Jimin… You have to stop this.”

It hurts just as much as it did the first time you said it. On your eighteenth birthday.

Actually, it was the day before your eighteenth birthday. Your birthday landed on a saturday for once, so you decided to have a party. Jimin, being your best friend, eagerly offered to let you host it at his house; or as you liked to call it: The Park Mansion. He took the reigns and planned everything without so much as an ‘okay’ from you.

The sunday before your birthday was when it started. When you went to his house to hang out, he gave you a gift.

.

“Jimin, what’s this?” You ask, taking the small box in hand. “My birthday isn’t until saturday.”

“I know.” He nods. “But it’s all part of it.” You open the box to find a small silver charm bracelet with several charms already attached. “I hope you like it.” He smiles sweetly. “Mom picked out the bracelet, but I picked all the charms.”

You did like it. So much that you’ve rarely taken it off in the eight years that you’ve had it. It has a few dents now, along with several more charms; all from Jimin, and you cherish it; what you didn’t like was what came next. 

You grew up in an average middle-class family. When you were young, your parents spoiled you to the best of their ability, but they weren’t made of money. Jimin’s parents however, were. Jimin had the best of everything; clothes, shoes, cars, everything you could think of was top of the line, in fact, the only thing Jimin had that wasn’t, was you.

You don’t know how it happened, why Jimin picked you out of all the people he could’ve been friends with instead, people in his circle, people with the same lifestyle. He tells you it’s because when he saw you crying on the swingset when you were both five years old, he felt something stir in him, something that told him you needed him, and he’s been there for you ever since.

“Jimin, you need to stop this.” It’s the day before your eighteenth birthday. After the charm  bracelet, Jimin gave you a new, more expensive gift every day leading up to your birthday; shoes, a necklace, makeup, a dress, and today, friday, he gave you the keys to a new car.

“Stop what?”

“Giving me things.” You shake your head as you hand the keys back to him.

“But it’s your birthday!”

“My birthday’s tomorrow.”

“But I wanted to give you something to wear to the party and-”

“It’s too much!” You snap, tears forming in your eyes. “It’s too much…”

“Y/N-ah…” Jimin coos softly, reaching out to comfort you.

“Jimin how will I ever repay you? I don’t… I don’t have money for things like expensive clothes, designer makeup, or anything like that. What am I ever supposed to give you in return for a fucking car?”

Jimin smiles just a bit. “The car is actually from your parents. Their names are on the lease, not mine. I just helped them pick it out.”

“What?”

“They wanted me to give it to you so you wouldn’t make a big fuss about them spending money, but… that didn’t turn out so well did it?”

“Jimin I-”

“Do you really think you have to repay me for birthday presents? They’re gifts for a reason Y/N.”

“Then what am I supposed to get you for your birthday? Nothing I get will measure up to all this stuff Jimin. I can’t even imagine what you have planned for tomorrow…”

“You could always make me another scarf. One of those big fluffy ones?”

“A scarf?” You roll your eyes.

“Or those rice cakes you make with the honey drizzle. Ooh those are good.”

“Jimin-”

“Do you know why I buy you all this stuff and take you to nice places?”

You scoff. “Because you have money.”

"No, because I can't do what you do."

"What do you mean?"

"I can’t make things from the heart. I don’t have anything in myself to give, so I have to give from outside myself. But you? You can make something and put love into it and have everyone appreciate what you’ve brought.”

His words bring a playful smirk to your face. “That’s just something rich people say.” You tease.

“Mm, there’s my girl.”

The next day you wake up, internally groaning at whatever grand soiree Jimin has planned for your birthday when your phone starts ringing. You pick it up to see it’s Jimin calling.

“Hey Chim.”

“Come over at 1. Wear pajamas.” Click.

Pajamas? What happened to the dress he bought for you? You try to call him back but he sends you to voicemail. You sigh and get out of bed to see it’s almost noon. You head downstairs to see your parents have laid you your typical birthday breakfast of pancakes and ice cream. 

“Happy birthday!” They both cheer as you come into view. As you sit down at the table, your mother comes over to give you a hug and your father places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Are you excited for your party this afternoon?” You mom asks. 

You can’t help the small sigh that escapes your lips. “Yeah I guess so.”

“You guess so?” Your father asks as he sits down with the newspaper. 

“I don’t know. I kind of don’t want to go.”

“Why not?” Your mother asks, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she sits next to your father. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I feel like the only reason people are coming is to be at Jimin’s house. I don’t have that many friends and I don’t know who he invited. I’m sure he’s planned this giant party with lots of expensive things and I’m just not that excited to go over and pretend to have fun.”

“Oh honey. You know Jimin wouldn’t do anything you wouldn’t like. I’m sure you’ll have tons of fun.”

“I agree.” Your dad nods. “Jimin knows you’re not into flashy events. He wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Then why’d he get me a big poofy dress?”

“Did he tell you to wear it?”

“At first yeah, but he called me this morning and told me to wear pajamas instead.”

“Sounds intriguing.” Your dad raises his eyebrows as he folds the newspaper back up and lays it on the table. “Finish your breakfast and get over there.” He stands up and ruffles your hair. “I’ll see you when I get home tonight.”

“Have fun at work dad.” You mumble, mouth full of pancakes.

“Happy birthday my little one.” Your dad calls as he walks out the door. 

You finish your breakfast and your mom hurries you along. “Go get dressed or you’re going to be late!”

You nod, and hurry back up to your room, grabbing the cat onesie Jimin got you a few years ago out of your closet and slipping it on. You’ve always wanted a cat, and your parents knew, but they never got around to it; you figured that buying things for a cat was too much of a stretch for their budget, so you never pestered them for one. 

When you’re dressed, you head downstairs, grab the keys to your new car, say goodbye to your mom and head to Jimin’s house. When you get there, you’re a little late, so you can hear laughter already and see cars parked all along the street. You pull into Jimin’s driveway and park your car, getting out a heading up to his front door which is open. You take a breath and head inside, walking to the kitchen where you hear all the commotion. 

“There she is!” Jimin’s mom is the first to spot you. “Happy birthday sweetie!” She wraps you in a tight hug. 

“Thanks Mrs. Park.” You smile. When she pulls back, you look around to see only adults in the kitchen. “Where is everyone?”

“Down in the basement, waiting for you! But first!” She drags you into the kitchen over to the breakfast bar. “Fix up your popcorn!” In front of you sits a giant bowl of fresh movie theatre style popcorn and every topping you could imagine from sweet to salty and everything in between. You grab a bag and quickly fill it up with popcorn and your favorite toppings before thanking Jimin’s mom and heading down to the basement. 

Jimin’s dad loves movies, so they had their basement remodeled to be like a mini movie theatre; giant screen, surround sound, even those fancy reclining seats. They have new movie screenings at their house all the time, as well as sporting event viewings like the world cup and the olympics. Jimin’s dad is the CEO of a fortune 500 company; which is how they have the money for absurd things like putting a movie theatre in their basement. 

As you walk into the basement you hear Jimin’s high-pitched cackle ringing through the space and when you walk around the corner you see Jimin, in his puppy dog onesie, sprawled out on the floor in front of the screen laughing his ass off, hands clutching his sides. As he calms down, his eyes open and he spots you standing in the corner.

“Y/N!” He jumps up to his feet and runs over to you, giving you a giant hug.

“Hi Chim.” You choke out as he squeezes you.

“You’re late!” He pouts as he pulls back.

“Sorry.” You shrug. “Traffic.”

“That’s okay, now we can start!” He cheers, bringing you to the front of the room. You get a brief glance at the seven people he invited, all the friends that you two sit with at lunch, all wearing their own pajamas with their own popcorn mixes. You’re happy to see Jimin didn’t go overboard for once. Jimin pushes you into a recliner. “Is everyone ready?”

“What are we doing?”

“We’re watching your favorite movies!” The girl you’re closest to, Jisong, smiles at you.

“Really?” You look over at Jimin as he puts a dvd into the player before coming over to sit next to you.

“Mhm!” He nods happily. “First up, ‘Train to Busan’!” Since your birthday is right before Halloween, you’ve always been a fan of horror movies. You wonder what else Jimin has on the schedule. 

After three movies, Jimin’s mom comes downstairs with cake and ice cream. Everyone sings to you and you all eat happily; Jimin of course, has to smash icing on your nose, but you get him back, with his moms help you push an entire piece of cake in his face, making everyone laugh. After everyone’s finished, they start to leave one by one until it’s just you and Jimin left sitting in your respective recliners, finishing your ice cream. 

“Thanks for this Chim.” He looks up at you, spoon hanging from his mouth. “I had fun today.”

Jimin smiles as he removes the spoon. “It’s not over yet.”

“What do you mean?”

Jimin suddenly stands and tugs you up with him. “Leave your bowl, come on.” You place your empty bowl on the table as Jimin drags you up two flights of stairs to his bedroom. He pushes you in and shuts the door.

“Jimin?” You turn around and try and open the door only to find it’s locked. “Jimin what are you doing?”

“Get dressed. Tell me when you’re done.”

“Get dressed? In what-” That’s when you turn around and see what’s laid out on his bed. The dress, shoes, and makeup he gave you in the span of the last week. You sigh, knowing there’s no use fighting him. You do your makeup first, and when you think it looks good enough, you change into the dress; it’s a mid-thigh length, ruffled red strapless dress. You slide into the matching red kitten heels and then knock on the door. “Can I come out now?” You hear the door unlock and watch as it opens to reveal Jimin standing there in a suit and tie looking unexpectedly handsome.

“You clean up nice.” Jimin states, taking in the sight of you.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He smiles. 

“So where are we going?” You ask.

“You’ll see.” He grabs your hand and tugs you down the stairs into the dining room. The table is set for two, two giant bowls of ramen sitting on the placemats along with two cans of soda. 

“What’s this?” You ask as Jimin pulls out your chair for you. You sit and he takes his seat next to you.

“You said you didn’t want anything fancy, so I thought of the tastiest, inexpensive food I could think of and I came up with ramen from that dollar ramen restaurant we went to after I came back from China. The one they moved to the other side of town right after we went, so it’s too far to walk to.”

“You went to the other side of town to get me dinner?”

“Of course. It’s your birthday.”

“Chim. Why are you so amazing?”

“Because you’re my best friend Y/N-ah. I care about you and I want you to have the best birthday ever.” He smiles so genuinely, you feel your heart skip a few beats.

The two of you eat your ramen, enjoying your conversations, reminiscing on things you did as children and you slurp your noodles. When you’re finished with your meal, you lean back in your chair, stuffed.

“Thank you Jimin.”

“You’re welcome.” He takes your hand and holds it between his, rubbing the back of yours gently with his thumb. “But it’s not over yet.”

“Jimin-”

“It’s the last thing I swear.” He bites his lip and you sigh before nodding at him. “Wait right here.” He jumps up out of his seat and runs out of the room, returning a few moments later with a box which he places on the table. “Here. Open it open it!” He squirms with excitement. 

“Okay okay calm down.” You stand up to take the lid off the box when suddenly the box moves. “Jimin. This better not be a prank.”

“Just open it.” He whines.

You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for something to jump out of the box as you lift the lid, only to find something you never would have expected. Staring back up at you, with wide green eyes is the tiniest, fluffiest kitten you’ve ever seen.

“Jimin-”

“It’s a girl.” He states. “I haven’t named her yet.” She’s grey all over with patches of orange and black throughout her poofy fur and she’s wearing a bright red ribbon that matches your dress.

“Can I-?”

“She’s yours. Of course you can.”

“Mew!” The kitten squeaks at you so you lean down to pick her up, holding her up to your face. She happily starts purring and licks your nose.

“Bamboo.”

“Hm?” Jimin looks at you as you hold the kitten close to your chest.

“Her name. It’s Bamboo.”

He leans over and scratches Bamboo’s head. “Bamboo, huh? It suits her perfectly.” Bamboo mews again in approval, making Jimin giggle. “Come on, it’s late. You can stay here tonight.” Jimin puts his hand on your back and pushes you in the direction of the stairs. You lead him up to his bedroom and he shuts the door. You place Bamboo on the bed and she quickly curls up into a ball, watching you. 

Jimin hands you a shirt and some shorts and you run to the bathroom to wash your face and change before coming back in and slipping under the covers with him, Bamboo curling up at your side. The two of you watch tv for a while as you try to figure out what to say to thank Jimin.

“Jimin?”

“If you thank me again I swear…” He teases.

You hesitate, but instead of thanking Jimin with your words, you lean over and kiss him. 

“Y/N-ah, what…?” He looks at you, surprised but intrigued.

“Thank you…” You whisper.

Jimin only nods, looking back and forth between your eyes and your lips before apparently making a silent decision and leaning in to return the kiss, this time longer. He cups your face with one of his hands, his skin warm on your cheek as he moves his mouth against yours.

It feels… odd. In the thirteen years you’ve known Jimin, you’ve never felt any sort of feeling for him other than close friendship, but right now, in this moment, you feel… something. You can’t put a name to it, but there’s something there. 

When Jimin finally slips his tongue into your mouth, you let out a small moan, just the slightest gasp, but apparently it encourages Jimin. You feel his hands move and suddenly they’re sliding up your sides under your shirt. Jimin’s mouth moves down your jaw to your neck, just as he grabs your breasts, but he can’t quite get to your shoulder, so he pushes you onto your back, resulting in a loud squeak coming from your side. You separate and look over to see a disgruntled Bamboo. 

“Whoops.” Jimin sighs, out of breath. “Sorry Bamboo.” She grumbles and readjusts herself next to you, closing her eyes again. You look up at Jimin, whose hands are still on your breasts as he waits for you to say something. You can feel how flushed your cheeks are, and your heart is beating faster than ever as you look into his eyes. 

“M-maybe…”

“We should sleep.” Jimin nods, taking his hands away from you in understanding. The room goes silent as you both settle down into the bed, you curl yourself around Bamboo and feel Jimin laying on his back beside you. 

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I see your hand?”

“My hand?”

“Mm.” You feel Jimin shift as he reaches around you, laying his arm across your side as he  waves his hand in front of your face. You grab his hand with yours and place it on your stomach, lifting your shirt so that his hand is splayed across your warm skin. “That’s better.”

“Yeah?” Jimin chuckles, snuggling up to your back, pulling you close. 

“Almost.” You move his hand upwards so that his fingers are brushing the underside of your breast. 

“Good?” Jimin asks, obviously unsure about touching you like this.

“Perfect.”

.

You never talked about that night. When you woke up the next morning, you avoided talking about it, pretending it never happened and it’s been brushed under the rug ever since. It’s just something that happened, no need to acknowledge it. Right?

Bamboo meows at you from where she lays on your bed. “Not this one either huh?” You’re standing in front of the mirror in your room on the eve of your graduation from university, trying to pick a dress for tomorrow. “Bamboo-yah… We’re running out of options here.” You throw the denied option on your bed next to her and she chirps at you. You’re digging into the back of your closet for the first time in a long time you only have two dresses left, a slutty black number from Halloween a few years back that’s more lingerie than dress, and- Oh… this… this is the dress Jimin gave you for your eighteenth birthday. Hm… You haven’t thought about that night in years. Your fingers play with the soft fabric as you reminisce when suddenly Bamboo meows at you.

“What? You remember this dress?” You smile. “I met you in this dress, huh.” She meows at you again. “What’s wrong?”

It’s then that the doorbell rings throughout your apartment. Strange. You weren’t expecting anyone. It’s probably your neighbors again looking for sugar. You head over to the door and look out the peephole to see the only person who would ever show up unexpected. You can’t help but smile as you open the door. 

“Chim!” You immediately wrap your arms around him. “I thought you were in Japan!”

“You think I’d miss your graduation?” He asks, stepping over the threshold and closing the door behind him. 

“You told me you couldn’t come!”

“I wanted to surprise you.” He smiles widely. “Speaking of…” He takes the large box in his hands you hadn’t noticed and holds it out to you.

“What’s this?” You shake the box.

“A graduation present.” He states. You tear open the wrapping paper to see a plain black box, you take off the lid and unfold the tissue paper to find a beautiful white lace dress. 

“Jimin…”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“I figured right about now you’d be rifling through your closet looking for something to wear tomorrow, yeah?”

“What? No.” You scoff, grabbing his arm with your free hand and leading him to your bedroom. “But you’ll never guess what I just found.” You toss the dress and box on your bed, startling Bamboo.

“Ah, be careful with the dress… Right Bamboo-yah?” Jimin giggles. “How’s the prettiest girl?” Bamboo begins mewing happily when she smells Jimin and doesn’t stop until he sits next to her on the bed and scratches her chin. 

“She missed you.” You point out. “When was the last time you visited? Six months ago?”

“Ah, I know it’s been a while…” Jimin sighs as Bamboo crawls into his lap. “But once you start at the company we’ll have more time to spend together.”

“Jimin I told you. I don’t know if I’m going to join or not. I have… other options.” In reality, you don’t know how to tell Jimin that you’ve gotten the perfect job offer already… In Thailand… 

“I know I know. But what’s better than working with me? I told you, I’ll give you anything you want.”

You sigh once more as you stand in front of your closet. Jimin went to business school and took over his father’s company when he retired. Now, Jimin is one of the top five richest men in Korea, not to mention Korea’s most eligible bachelor. He swore when you graduated he would pull as many strings as he could to get you a job by his side, but you don’t want to rely on Jimin for your future. You’ve gotten this far on your own, why stop now?

“Anyway. Look what I found.” You reach into your closet and pull out the red dress, holding it up to yourself. 

“Holy shit.” Jimin smiles wide, placing Bamboo on the bed and standing to walk over to you. He reaches out and touches the fabric. “You still have this?”

“I didn’t think so, but I guess I never got rid of it.”

Jimin smiles as he looks at it, until his eyes catch on something behind you. “Okay, but what is this?”

“Hm?” You turn to see him take the Halloween costume out of the closet. 

“You should wear this under your gown tomorrow.”

“Stop it!” You snatch the dress out of his hands and hang it back up. “It was a halloween costume.”

“What were you dressed as? An almost naked person?” He smirks.

“I was a sexy cat…” You huff, putting your red dress in the closet as well and shutting the door in a huff. 

“Sexy indeed.” He mumbles, walking back over to your bed and taking a seat on it, carefully putting the white dress back in its box and then observing the mess on your bed. “You were deciding what to wear weren’t you?”

“Shut up.”

“Called it.” He teases. “Are you excited?”

“To finally be free of school? Ecstatic.” You walk over and flop down on your bed, reaching out to scratch Bamboo where she sits next to Jimin. “I can’t wait to walk across that stage.”

“We’re all really proud of you, you know.” Jimin stops petting Bamboo to sweep a stray hair behind your ear.

“Thanks Chim. That means a lot.” You lean into his palm as it rests on your cheek, closing your eyes for a moment to enjoy the sensation.

“Your parents taking you out after?” He asks, taking his hands away.

“Mm. To Bento’s.” You nod. “You should come.”

“Nah, I don’t want to crash.”

“Please, you know they love you.” You scoff. “Plus you can probably get us a better table.”

“Well, there’s that.” Jimin smirks, knowing full well just how much your parents adore him. “You sure?”

“Of course. It wouldn’t be right without you.”

“Alright. If you insist.” He smiles before sighing. “I should get going though.”

“Already?” You pout. “Don’t want to grab a drink?”

“We’ll do plenty of celebrating tomorrow night, I promise.” He stands up. “But tonight, I have some work to finish.”

“Workaholic.” You pout.

“That’s me.” Jimin smiles, grabbing your arms and lifting you off the bed, wrapping you in a tight hug. “But I do have to go.”

“Yeah yeah.” You shrug him off of you and push him out of your room toward the door. “Get out.”

“Wow. That hurts my feelings you know. When you cast me away like this.”

“You’ll get over it.” You smirk, opening the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be the one screaming your name.”

“Please don’t.”

“You can’t stop me.” He states smugly. 

“God help me.” Jimin pulls you into one last hug before saying goodbye and starting to walk away. “Hey, Chim?”

He turns back toward you. “Yeah?”

“Thanks. For the dress.”

“Be careful with it. It’s Gucci.” He winks and then turns back to the elevator.

You gasp. “Are you serious? I thought we agreed, no more expensive gifts!”

“I can’t hear you.” He states as the doors open. 

“Jimin!”

“Nope, still can’t hear you.” You’re about to yell at him again, but the elevator doors close before you can. You huff and shut your door, locking it before you head back into your bedroom. You pull the dress out of the box and hold it up. It’s a long sleeve lace dress that should fall right above your knees. You look at the tag. Sure enough, it’s Gucci.

“Goddamnit Jimin.” You sigh, causing Bamboo to meow at you, obviously upset that you cursed Jimin’s name. You open your closet back up and hang up the dress, then make your way to the shower, cleaning yourself before slipping into your pajamas and curling up with Bamboo in your bed, setting your alarm, and falling asleep.

.

When you alarm goes off the next morning, you groan, but then you realize what day it is. Finally. Graduation. You get up and stretch your tired limbs to wake them up before walking into your bathroom to start getting ready.  You do your hair first; nothing fancy just curling the ends so they sit nicely. Then you do your makeup; full face with a nude lip and a popping highlight that’ll hopefully catch in the stage lights.

When you’re finished, you give Bamboo some food and water, slip into your dress , grab your gown, then put on your shoes and head out the door. It takes you about twenty minutes to drive to the theatre downtown where the graduation ceremony is being held. When you arrive you quickly park and head over to the line of your classmates, slipping on your hat and gown as you look for Jisong; the two of you remained close friends up through high school and were even roommates in your early college years.

“Y/N! Over here.” She waves you over once she spots you and you hurry over, giving her a quick hug. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, I lost track of time.” You shrug. 

“Just like Professor Kim’s class. Late every day.” She chuckles, shaking her head. “I saw your parents go in though.”

“Good.” You nod, happy they didn’t get lost on the way over from their hotel. “Anyone else?”

“Not that I can recall?” She shrugs, just as they call you all to start walking into the building. You can’t help but feel a little pouty that she didn’t see Jimin. He said he would be here. You sigh. Maybe he got called back to work anc can’t make it after all. 

You all walk into the auditorium and up to the stage, taking your seat as the dean of your school begins his speech. You zone out as he talks, scanning the audience to the best of your ability, looking around to see if you can spot Jimin. Just as the dean finishes his speech, you see the doors in the back of the theatre open as someone slips into the seats in the back. You’d know that silhouette anywhere. Well, at least he’s here.

After all the speeches, it’s finally time to walk across the stage. Your row rises and one by one, names are called until it’s finally your turn. The dean calls your name and you walk across the stage to grab your degree as a loud cheer comes from the back of the auditorium, even louder than that of your parents.

“That’s my girl! Y/N-ah!”

Oh my god Jimin. Your face flushes bright red as you shake the dean’s hand and quickly head back to your seat, thoroughly embarrassed. When everyone’s name has been called, the dean gives his last words and you switch your tassel to the other side of your hat, finally done with school.

When all is said and done, you walk out to the lobby to find your parents waiting for you. You give them both a hug and then someone taps you on the shoulder. You turn around to see Jimin standing there, a huge smile on his face, holding the biggest bouquet of flowers you think you’ve ever seen.

“You were late!” You state poking him in the shoulder.

“How did you know it was me?” He immediately pouts.

“Please. It’s just like you to make a grand entrance.” You tease.

“Ah, you caught me.” He shrugs. “Here.” He hold the flowers out to you.

“They’re beautiful Chim. Thank you.”

“Let’s get a picture!” Jimin suggests, clapping his hands together. “You and your parents first.” Jimin ushers you in between your parents and takes your moms phone. “Say Kimchi!”

You can’t help but smile at Jimin, saying the same thing he’s been saying when he takes a picture since he was five. He takes the picture and then your mom takes the phone and squishes you and Jimin together.

“Mom-”

“Come on, just one.”

You roll your eyes, but oblige, laughing as Jimin pulls you as close as he can. You smile widely for the picture, but as your mom takes forever to hit the button on her phone, you start to hear murmurs coming from other people in the lobby.

“Is that Park Jimin?”

“Park Jimin?”

“The bachelor from the magazine?”

“Park Jimin?”

“Who is that with him?”

“Does he have a sister?”

“He’s not dating her is he?”

Your mom finally takes the picture and, sensing how uncomfortable you’ve become, Jimin quickly suggests a move to the restaurant. “Shall we head to Bento’s then?”

“Of course!” Your father nods. “We’ll meet you there.”

Jimin quickly grabs your hand and tugs you out of the theatre. As you start walking toward the parking garage, Jimin squeezes your hand. “Better?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Sometimes I forget you’re famous now.”

“I’m not famous, I’m just… well known.”

“That’s something only famous people say.” You tease.

“Hush or I’ll sit in the back of your car and treat you like a chauffeur.”

“What do you mean my car? You have your own.”

“Nah, I took a cab today.”

“Why?” You ask as you step into the parking garage elevator.

“Because it’s your graduation!” Jimin states, wrapping his arms tightly around you as the doors close. “I wanted to spend as much time with you as possible! When was the last time we drove somewhere together?”

“Bento’s is five minutes away?” You remind him, shaking him off.

“That’s five extra minutes together.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You shake your head as you get out of the elevator and lead Jimin over to your car. You take off your graduation gown both hop in and you start the car, turning on the radio as you exit the garage and pull out onto the street toward the restaurant. 

It’s a short, quiet ride. Jimin simply stares out the window as he hums along to the radio and it’s not long before you’re pulling up to the restaurant. 

“Pull into the valet.” Jimin orders.

“What? No, that’s expensive.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Jimin no.” You huff as you pull into the regular parking lot. It takes a minute, but you eventually find a space and park, getting out and walking up to the front of the restaurant as Jimin nags you.

“Now we’re late, why didn’t you just use the valet?” Jimin asks as you walk through the door and start looking for your parents.

“Don’t start Chim.” You shake your head as you spot your parents, leading Jimin over toward them, but for some reason, your mother seems upset.

“Mom? What’s wrong?”

“We were late so they gave away our reservation. They said they won’t have another table for an hour.” She sighs. “I’m sorry Y/N-ah. I told them we’d wait, but it’s up to you.”

“We can go somewhere else, it’s okay.” Although you’re a little disappointed, this is your favorite restaurant.

Suddenly Jimin straightens himself up next to you, puffing out his chest with a smirk on his face. You watch as he walks over to the host stand, leaning on it as he flashes a charming smile at the girl standing behind it. “Evening Mijoo.”

The girl looks up from her seating chart and nearly drops the menus she’s holding. “M-Mr. Park!”

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Jimin?”

“J-Jimin…” She swoons. “Do you have a reservation tonight?”

“ I did, actually, but according to my friends,” He turns and points to you and your parents, “You gave it away?”

Her mouth drops open before her brain connects to her lips once more. “O-Oh I’m sure there’s been a misunderstanding!” She exclaims, sifting through the papers in front of her. “Let me see what I can do here.” She grabs the radio off her stand and checks with the back to see if there are any tables available for ‘Mr. Park Jimin’ and of course, for ��Mr. Park Jimin’, there’s always a table.

Your seated in a matter of seconds at a table with a view and Jimin orders a bottle of expensive champagne before whispering to the waiter. “Add it all to my tab please.”

“Of course Mr. Park.” The waiter nods before going to fetch the champagne. 

“Mom, dad, get whatever you want. Dinner’s on me tonight.”

“Oh Jimin please. You already got us a table-” Your mother tries to decline, but Jimin doesn’t let her.

“I insist.” He smiles widely. “They give me a discount.”

You simply sigh to yourself, leaning back in your seat and perusing the menu. The waiter brings back the champagne and Jimin immediately calls for a toast.

“To Y/N, our beautiful graduate.” He cheers. Your parents raise their glasses and toast with him. 

“To my parents. I never would’ve made it without you guys.” You cheer back. You all clink glasses and then drink. 

You have two glasses before your food arrives, and another as you eat, thoroughly enjoying yourself; laughing a reminiscing with Jimin and your parents, all the way until dessert. As your waiter places your strawberry cake in front of you, two men walk past your table, before stopping and back tracking.

“Park?” One of them says. 

“Min, you bastard!” Jimin smiles as he stands up and shakes the man’s hand. “How are you?” Then he turns to the other man. “Jeong, always good to see you!”

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Japan?” Min asks.

Jeong nods. “If we had known you were back in town we would’ve invited you.”

“I’m here for pleasure, not business boys.” Jimin laughs. “Today my best friend graduated from college.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “Y/N-ah, this is Min Yoongi, CEO of MY Entertainment. And this is Jeong Hoseok, founder of Jeong Dance Company and Studio. Boys, this is Y/N. The girl I was telling you about.”

“Ah, so this is the one you want to hire so desperately.” Min states.

“And the one Min wants to snatch away from you.”

“Have you seen her resume?” Min questions. “Who would want her working for the wrong team!”

“My resume?” You ask quietly. 

“Of course.” Jeong states. “Jimin brought it to our last lunch.”

“He was trying to brag about you, but all he did was make us want you for our own companies.” Both men pull out their business cards and hand them to you. 

“If you ever want a real job, call me.” Jeong winks at you.

“And if you want a career, call me.” Min states. Both men then say goodbye to you, Jimin, and your parents before continuing on their way out of the restaurant.

Your parents and Jimin eat their desserts, chatting with each other like nothing has happened, but you eat in silence. Jimin gave them your resume without asking you first, and then they both randomly happen to show up while you’re out to dinner with Jimin?

“Y/N-ah?” Your father’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as you eat your last bite of cake. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.

“Something’s bothering you dear.” Your mom agrees. 

“Y/N…?” Jimin places his hand on yours under the table.

“You planned that didn’t you?” You ask.

“Planned what?”

“For them to be here. For me to meet them. You planned it.”

Jimin shakes his head. “Y/N, they didn’t even know I was in town.”

“But you knew they were. Just admit it, you planned it.”

“Y/N-ah I-”

“You planned it!” You burst, suddenly on the verge of tears, causing a few tables to look your way. You stare into Jimin’s eyes. “Tell me the truth.”

Jimin meets your gaze for a moment before looking away, ashamed. “I might have suggested Bento’s to them.”

“I knew it.” You stand up, furious, and throw your napkin down onto the table, turning to leave before Jimin grabs your wrist.

“Y/N, wait.”

“Stop squandering your money, I don’t need your help!” You wrench your wrist out of his grip and storm out of the restaurant, hopping into your car and driving back home. You slam your front door shut and collapse onto the couch where Bamboo quickly jumps up into your lap and rubs against your face, sensing that you’re upset and doing her best to make you feel better.

“Why does he do this to me Bamboo?” You sigh, scratching her between the ears. “I don’t need his help.” Bamboo meows at you, seeming to disagree. “Don’t look at me like that.” You shake your head. “He knows I don’t like it, why does he insist on upsetting me by spending so much money on me?” Bamboo purrs as she kneads her paws on your chest. “I know he’s my best friend I just…” You sigh. “Maybe going to Thailand will help.” That’s when Bamboo hisses and steps directly on your breast, putting all her weight on it. “Ouch! Bamboo-yah!” You scoop her into your arms as you sit up, but she wriggles out of them and jumps to the floor, her tail flicking to show her displeasure. 

Just as you’re about to stand up to go get ready for bed, you hear a knock on your door. Before you even look through the peephole you know who it is. 

“Jimin go away.”

You hear a thunk against the door. “Please let me in.” He sounds thoroughly defeated already.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“Y/N-ah..."

“No.”

“Just hear me out.”

You huff. “I can hear you through the door.”

You hear Jimin sigh before he begins. “Remember when you had me look over your resume? To make sure it was okay before you started applying for jobs? That’s when Min and Jeong saw it.” He explains. “We were having lunch in my office and it was on my desk. They thought it might’ve been an intern’s resume and wanted to see it, but when I explained who’s it was, they snatched it out of my hands and read over it themselves. I swear I never meant for them to see it, but after they saw it, they wouldn’t stop bugging me about you. They wanted your contact information, but I never gave it to them.”

You pause for a moment before unlocking the door and opening it to see a very sad Jimin in front of you. 

“I wanted you for myself.”

“Jimin…” You sigh as he walks past you and flops down on your couch.

“Why won’t you come work for me?” He whines. “I promise I’ll be a good boss! I can get you anything you want! Executive assistant, board of directors, anything!”

“Jimin… You have to stop this.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop trying to help me. Stop throwing your money at me. Just… Stop.”

“But Y/N I-”

“My entire life you’ve been beside me; buying me things, paying for me, doing anything you can to help me; but I don’t have any way to pay you back. I don’t have any way to help you. I don’t… I don’t have anything.”

“That’s not true.”

“For once I want to make a name for myself without you standing right behind me. I want to start over.”

“I can help you start over Y/N.” He grabs your arms and drags you down onto the couch with him.

“You aren’t even listening to me.” You shake your head. “Jimin, I think we should take a break from our friendship for a while.”

“W-what…?” Jimin’s face is crestfallen as soon as he registers your words. 

“I got a job offer and I think it’d be good for me to take it.”

“But… Why can’t we be friends still?”

“The job is in Thailand.”

“Thailand??!” Jimin bursts. “You can’t go to Thailand! What would I do without you?!”

“Jimin you’re gone for six months out of the year anyway. It wouldn’t be that different.”

Jimin stares at you incredulously. “It’d be completely different! Those six months that I’m here in Seoul are the best six months of the year because I get to see you. I get to be close to you! And now you want to take that away from me?”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little selfish?”

“Selfish?” You can see the anger in Jimin’s eyes now as he lets out a hollow laugh. “I’m the selfish one?? Right. I can’t buy you anything, I can’t take you anywhere, I can’t do anything for you, I can’t hire you, I can’t love you, and now I can’t even be friends with you and I’m the selfish one. That makes a lot of fucking sense.”

“Jimin-”

“Why don’t you just rip my heart out of my chest Y/N? It’d be easier for both of us.” He stands up and starts pacing back and forth in front of you. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be in love with someone for ten years, and then have them tell you they don’t want anything from you? That they… don’t even want to be friends anymore?” Halfway through his words Jimin realizes what he’s said. “Shit…” He smacks his forehead and then stands there in a silence you dare not break in fear of scaring him off. After a few moments, you hear Jimin sniffle as he falls to his knees.

“Chim?” You jump off the couch and kneel in front of him, lifting his chin to meet his gaze, only to see tears rolling down his plump cheeks. “Why… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew…” He sighs. “On your eighteenth birthday when we… When you kissed me I thought it was because you knew, and you wanted to try, but you stopped. Then we never talked about that night again, so I never brought it up because of, well… Because of this.” He gestures to the two of you and looks down at the floor. “I didn’t want to lose you as a friend.”

You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until your own tears start to fall and you inhale sharply in surprise. Your brain stops working and you’re unable to repress your emotions any longer. “Jimin don’t you know how much I love you?” You breathe out, causing Jimin’s head to snap up and stare at you in confusion. “Don’t you know why I don’t want anything?” He shakes his head. “Every gift, every meal, everything that you got me gave me hope. Hope that maybe you liked me too. Hope that maybe we could be together. But eventually I just got so tired of having hope.”

“Why?”

“Because.” You roll off your knees and sit on the floor. “Because you could give me the world, and I realized that the only thing I could give you… was me.”

“Y/N-ah…” Jimin slumps forward and wraps you in his arms, holding you against his chest. “You are, and always will be, my entire universe.” He pulls back and cups your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze before his lips find yours. 

The kiss is the sweetest moment of bliss, because now you know; you both know that you love each other. Your tears mingle with Jimin’s on your cheeks, happy tears now, making Jimin chuckle as he pulls away and wipes your cheeks with his thumbs, staring into your eyes before pulling you tightly to his chest once more, not letting go for a long time.

When Jimin finally pulls back, he kisses you on the forehead and then mumbles against your skin. “I think you should get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” You nod, standing up with him. You start to walk toward the bedroom when you realize Jimin is headed in the wrong direction as he starts to pull his shoes back on.

“Jimin?” He looks up at you, his shoe half on. “Will you stay?”

Jimin smiles. “We don’t have to rush into anything you know.

“I know, but I want you to stay. Please?”

Jimin kicks his shoe back off and then walks over to you. “Of course I’ll stay jagiya.”

The term sets your heart aflutter as you lead Jimin back to your room. You dig through your dresser and find a pair of basketball shorts and a sweatshirt of his that you borrowed forever ago and never gave back, tossing them at him before grabbing your own pajamas and changing. You slip out of you dress and hang it up in the closet before taking off your bra and pulling and oversized t-shirt over your head before turning around to see Jimin laying in the center of your bed watching tv with Bamboo curled up asleep at his side. You smile at the sight and walk over to the bed, crawling under the covers. You curl up to Jimin as well, laying your head on his chest as he pulls you close, his arm around your waist, the two of you watching tv in silence for a while until you start to get sleepy.

You’re almost asleep when Bamboo jumps off the bed, startling you when she thumps on the ground. Jimin feels you jump and giggles, stretching before rolling over to turn off the light. He rolls back to you and finds your face in the dim lighting of the tv, cupping your cheek as you see the slightest smile before his mouth is on yours. 

You can tell he intended it to be a short kiss, a goodnight kiss, but you can’t help it when you pull him back for another, and another. It isn’t long before your lips only separate when you need to breathe. When he slips his tongue past your lips, you mind flashes back to that night eight years ago, only this time your older, bolder, more experienced, and you know exactly what you want him to do; or more likely, what you want to do to him.

Before he can even blink, you get up and straddle Jimin’s lap, pushing him down onto his back, thoroughly surprising him if the cute look on his face is any indication.

“Y/N-ah what-”

“I know we don’t have to rush. I know we can wait, but I… I don’t want to. I’ve waited long enough.” You wiggle your hips in his lap, causing him to gasp as he reaches out and grabs your waist tightly to stop you. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You can see Jimin mulling it over in his head, his eyes scanning you up and down as you play with the hem of the sweatshirt that adorns him, watching him think. Just when you think he’s going to say no, one of Jimin’s hands starts to creep from your waist up under your shirt to the underside of your breasts. His thumb brushes against your nipple by accident, causing you to gasp, and that’s when you feel it; something twitches between your legs. 

“Goddamnit it jagiya.” He groans, sitting up and pulling you flush against him. “Do you even know how long I’ve wanted to get my hands on you?”

“Ten years?” You tease.

“Ten fucking years.” He growls, grabbing your shirt and nearly ripping it off in his haste to get to you, his eyes trailing down to your chest. “You’re even more beautiful than I could imagine.”

“Your turn.” You state, tugging at his sweatshirt. He chuckles and then lifts his arms, allowing you to pull the fabric up over his head. You stop dead in amazement as soon as you see him. “What the fuck is this? Park Jimin since when do you have abs?” You lightly smack his stomach a few times.

He shrugs. “Jeong likes to work out. He got me into it.”

“Jesus please if I’m dreaming don’t let anything wake me.” You beg, running your hands all over Jimin’s chest until you find the waistband of his shorts. You begin tugging at them until Jimin gets the message and lifts his hips, allowing you to slip the silky fabric off of him, along with his boxers.

As you grab Jimin’s throbbing length in your hand, he moans low in his chest, causing your core to clench; he’s so hard and he’s already leaking all over the place, making a mess between the two of you, although by the dampness of your panties, you know you aren’t fairing much better. You don’t want to waste anymore time.

You get up on your knees and with one hand you pull your underwear to the side, using the other hand to line Jimin’s cock up with your entrance. He’s been so entranced by the feeling of your hand around him that he doesn’t realize what you’re doing until he feel the wetness of your core pressing against his head.

“Jagi, don’t you want me to play with you first?” He asks, concerned you’ll feel pain when he enters you.

“I don’t need it.” You gasp. “N-next time.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, and before he can ask you again, you relax your body and sink down onto him. “Jimin…” You moan softly as he stretches you open, continuing down until you can feel his thighs against your ass, and then wiggling further to make sure he’s entirely inside you. Jimin holds you completely still and you whine in his ear, begging him to let you move as your core tightens around him, desperate for friction.

When Jimin still won’t let you move, you push on his chest until he falls back against the bed and then you plant your hands on his chest, leaning on him as you lift your hips, moaning out as you slide back down, relishing in the feeling of him inside you. 

“Oh god…” Jimin groans when you pick up the pace. “Jagi you feel so good. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

“Uh huh~” You whimper, breathless. 

“You really didn’t need any foreplay did you?”

“I t-told you…” You nod, trying to go faster, but you can’t get your body to cooperate, your thighs are burning. “C-Chim…” He understands immediately, grabbing your hips tightly and planting his feet on the bed, rapidly thrusting up into you faster than you can bounce. “O-o-oh god~” You whine, leaning forward so that your chest is pressed against Jimin’s, letting him fuck up into you as hard as he can as you get pushed closer to your release.

“Jagi… you’re getting so tight.” Jimin groans. “Too tight, fuck… I’m close love.” You can only moan at this point, too far gone to form words. “Oh god.” You can feel Jimin’s thrusting growing more and more erratic, until finally, with one last impossibly deep thrust, you feel yourself come undone with a cry of his name, and a few seconds later, Jimin releases his warmth inside you, filling you to the brim.

You slump down against Jimin, suddenly exhausted; all of your energy spent. The two of you lie together, panting, Jimin rubbing your back soothingly as he presses soft kisses to your face and neck. When you feel like you can move again, you sit up, causing you both to whine from sensitivity as Jimin’s length shifts inside you. You shiver pleasantly at the feeling of being so full before moving to lay on your side facing Jimin, pulling him close so that he doesn’t slip out of you as you lay your leg across his waist.

“Do you want me to clean you up jagiya?” Jimin hums, brushing his thumb across your cheek.

You shake your head and mumble, already half asleep. “I want to stay like this.”

Jimin pulls you closer. “Didn’t take you as the cock warming type.”

“Shut up.” You smack him in the shoulder.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing!” He defends himself. “But before you fall asleep, um…”

“Hm?” You open one eye and peek at Jimin, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you… are you still moving to Thailand?”

You exhale a small laugh, smiling. “Only if you come with me.”

“I um… I don’t want to move.”

“Then I guess I’m not going.”

Jimin shakes his head. “But I don’t want to stop you from doing something you want to do.”

“Chim.” You giggle. “I’d rather have no job than have to live without you again.”

“Does that mean…?”

“As long as it won’t be an HR problem, yes. I’d love to come work with you.”

Jimin holds you tightly against him as he kisses you passionately. “I love you so much Y/N-ah.”

“I love you too Chim.”

#inkjam-moon #ksmutclub #kpopwonderlandnetwork #love yourself the collab #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fulff #bts angst #bts fanfiction #bts fics #park jimin #bts jimin #jimin aesthetic #jimin fluff #jimin smut #jimin angst #go go #one-shot #jimin x reader

[dontcare77ghj]

Jealous

Clint x reader x Bucky

I don’t know why but my last two posts were once again deleted. Thank the Gods I learnt my lesson and keep them in a document now. Requested by @nickmxller. This is for you.

Wanda liked to call herself the matchmaker of the Tower. She has set up Sam with his girlfriend, herself and Natasha, and the three of you.

She has first set up Clint and Bucky. The inhabitants of the Tower had gotten sick and tired of watching the boys pine over one another. And Wanda did something about it. She pushed the two together and forced them to admit their feelings for one another.

Wanda had met you at a yoga class and had brought you around the Tower one day. You weren’t a superhero or an enhanced, you were merely a civilian. Your visits to the Tower became much more frequent when Wanda worked out you liked the boys, and they thought of you the same way.

Wanda had set you up on a blind date four months after meeting Clint and Bucky. You had gone in expecting someone to get your mind off the two, not for it to be the two.

The three of you had been together for almost two years, and you knew anything you could about one another. There were a lot others knew about the three of you, but there was one thing you don’t think they’d ever know or understand. Just how jealous Clint and Bucky could get.

“No, Miranda needs the day off Thursday. Her mother’s going into surgery.” You said, holding the phone between your shoulder and ear. “And Julie’s out of town, so don’t even go there.”

“Okay, I can do Thursday if you cover my Saturday morning,” Rhys said, making you smile. “I have a date with my potential soulmate Saturday.”

“Done. Are you still okay working Wednesday afternoon?” You asked,  looking down at your schedule.

“Might as well. I got nothing better to do. Unlike you.” He chuckled.

“Charming, Rhys. Did you talk to all your other bosses like that?” You quizzed him as your cheeks burnt bright red.

“Nope. But they would’ve fired me if I did.” He said as the elevator opened behind you.

“Don’t think I won’t fire you.” You rolled your eyes. “I totally could fire you.”

“You could not fire me. You felt bad for an hour because you couldn’t give that old woman what she wanted.” He laughed as Clint sat beside you. “Besides, you love me.”

“Moria’s a regular, and she’s a sweetheart.” You defended yourself. “I gotta go. Remember Thursday.” You told him.

“Of course. See you, boss.” Rhys said before hanging up.

“How was the meeting?” You asked, leaning over to kiss Clint in greeting.

“Boring. I wanted to leave.” Clint told you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “He wouldn’t let me.”

“Steve would’ve killed you.” Bucky sat, taking a seat on your other side. “And then Natasha would. I quite like you being alive, hotshot.”

“As do I.” You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Who was on the phone, doll?” Bucky asked, taking a strand of your hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Rhys. I hired him a couple weeks ago.” You told him. “He’s a good worker. Apprenticed under some pretty good bakers, always early, he’s a model employee.”

“Sounds like you really like him, sweetheart,” Clint commented.

“He’s a good work friend.” You shrugged.

“Is he friends with other employees?” Bucky asked. “Getting along with others? Not causing any ripples?”

“Ripples?” You raised a brow. “Your age is showing, Buck.” You smirked as Clint laughed.

“That’s mean,” Bucky whined. “You two are mean.”

“Not mean. Sarcastic.” Clint explained. “We’re sarcastic, Buck.”

“Anyway,” You sighed, turning to face Bucky. “He has caused no issues. He’s good with everyone.”

“That’s good,” Clint said. “That’s very good.”

“Yeah, it is.” You hummed. “Oh, I brought back your favorite from the shop. I made extras just for you.” You said, jumping up from the couch.

“That’s great, doll,” Bucky said.

“What would we do without you, Y/N?” Clint asked.

“Starve.” You responded from the kitchen. “Get off your butts. I’m not bringing it to you, so you’ll have to come to me.”

“Do I smell cake?” Clint asked as he snaked his arms around your waist.

“An almost ruined cake.” You said, patting his hand. “You almost gave me a heart attack, I could’ve dropped the bowl.”

“Yeah, Clint, you almost gave her a heart attack,” Bucky smirked, moving next to you. “No cake for you.” He added, pressing a kiss to your lips. Bucky pulled away and quickly swiped his finger through the cake batter and stuck it in his mouth.

“James Barnes.” You scolded, pulling the bowl away from him. “I’m still using this.”

“Yeah, James,” Clint smirked. “She’s still using it.” He said, dipping his own finger in the bowl.

“Clinton.” You sighed, pulling out of his grasp. You moved with the bowl to the other side of the table and raised a brow at your smug men. “Why do I let the two of you visit when you do this every time?” You asked, a faint smile on your face.

“Because you love us,” Bucky said, rounding the table. He made you put the batter down as he pulled you into an embrace.

“I suppose that’s a good reason.” You shrugged, leaning up to kiss the man.

“And who would tell you that this needs more chocolate,” Clint added, pulling the bowl towards him.

“And you ruined the moment,” Bucky said as you moved next to Clint.

“Are you sure?” You asked, leaning over his shoulder. “I thought it was pretty chocolatey anyway.”

“Everything needs more chocolate.” Clint smiled at you, reaching over to kiss you. “Do you have white chips?”

“Do I have white chips? What kind of bakery do you think I’m running?” You teased the man as you pulled away. “Do you only want white chips?” You asked, moving into the pantry.

“Dark ones too,” Clint said. “That’ll work.”

“Something smells good,” Rhys said, entering as you exited the pantry. “And I’m not talking about you.” He added, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Save the charm for the bar.” You smiled, ducking under his arm. “Buck, Clint, this is Rhys. Rhys, these are my partners, Bucky and Clint.”

“Nice to meet you,” Rhys said, putting his hand out to Bucky. “Y/N talks a lot about you.”

“Likewise, with you.” Bucky nodded, shaking Rhys’s hand with his metal one.

“Y/N, there’s someone out front who wants to talk to you,” Rhys said, turning to you.

“Did they look angry or not?” You sighed, pulling off your apron.

“It could just be their face.” Rhys shrugged. “Your necklace is under your shirt here.” Rhys stopped you and pulled your necklace out from under your shirt.

“Thanks. Wish me luck.” You said before moving into the front of the store.

Rhys was not wrong. The woman wasn’t mad at anything, she just had a bitch face as she placed a large order. As you entered the backroom, there was palpable tension between the men.

“Everything okay?” You asked the men.

“Everything’s great, doll. Just getting to know Rhys here.” Bucky told you.

“Are you free for lunch, sweetheart?” Clint asked.

“I have to finish with the batter.” You told him.

“I can do it for you, Y/N.” Rhys volunteered. “Go out, have lunch, have some fun.” He pushed you.

“Thanks, Rhys.” You said, hugging the man.

“Of course, hon.”

“Alright, let’s go.” You said as Clint wrapped an arm around your waist, and Bucky took your hand.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” Clint asked, leaning in closer to you.

“Once or twice.” You smiled, resting your back against the bar.

“You look beautiful,” Clint said, holding your chin and kissing you.

“And you look handsome.” You responded once you pulled away.

“And you two are too sweet for your own good,” Bucky said, appearing suddenly. “Tony told me to tell you two that it’s a party, and that’s he’s getting a spray bottle if you look like you’re getting heated.”

After the team had completed another successful mission, Tony had decided it was time for another party. Instead of inviting hundreds of strangers, like he usually would, the party had been reserved for Avengers, partners, and friends.

“Tony’s just mad that Pepper’s late.” You commented, grabbing a new drink.

“You’re not wrong there, doll.” Bucky chuckled as Clint curled into his side.

“Ooh, speaking of late.” You said, noticing who was arriving.

“What’s he doing here?” Clint asked, noticing Rhys entering.

“I invited him.” You said, kissing your men on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a minute, I love you.” You told them before making your way over to Rhys. “Glad you could make it.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Rhys said, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “Are you going to introduce me to this mystery man now?”

“Right this way.” You smirked, leading him into the party’s fold.

You had left Rhys with the man you wanted to set him up with and made your way to the bar. You hadn’t even opened your mouth to order a drink when you were pulled away.

“What’s the big idea?” You asked as Bucky pulled you out of the party with Clint by his side.

“Quiet.” Clint grit out as the three of you walked into a dark hall of the Tower.

“What are the two of you doing?” You asked as you stopped. You let out a quiet grunt as Bucky pushed you into a wall.

You were once again denied the opportunity to speak as Bucky smashed his lips to yours.

“Buck, what?” You gasped as he pulled away. You weren’t given an answer as Clint pushed Bucky out the way and silenced you with his own lips. “What’s brought this on?” You panted as Clint pulled away and shoved his face in your neck.

“Fucking Rhys,” Bucky growled. “He had his hands all over you, and you didn’t do anything.”

“Wait, Rhys? That’s what this is all about?” You asked, pushing Clint away. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Sweetheart, he’s always touching you, and helping you and flirting with you,” Clint grumbled. “The worst part is you never seem to notice.”

“Oh, my God. I love you two, I really do, but you need to work on communication.” You sighed, brushing the hair out of your face. “You know Rhys is gay, right?”

“But he’s always touching you.” Bucky protested.

“He’s extremely friendly. He hangs off everyone he meets.” You told him. “I brought him here because Wanda and I want to set him up with Steve.” You explained.

“With Steve?” Clint questioned slowly.

“Yes with Steve. Wanda thinks they’ll be good together.” You said. “Maybe if the two of you had just come to me and said you were jealous of Rhys,”

“We weren’t jealous.” Clint protested.

“Then what the hell was that back there?” You asked, raising a brow. Clint didn’t answer and looked down. “If the two of you had just said something, I could have told you about the plan. I could have told you he was just a friend. In fact I did tell you that, several times I believe.” You finished, crossing your arms.

“We’re sorry, doll.” Bucky said after a second. “We just didn’t want you to think we didn’t trust you. We didn’t want you to know that we were,”

“Insecure?” You asked as he trailed off.

“Yeah.” He sighed.

“I love the two of you. I love you Bucky Barnes and I love you Clint Barton. Nothing and no-one is going to change that. Don’t you see? I only want the two of you.” You said, taking one of both their hands into yours.

“And we love you.” Clint said, squeezing your hand tightly.

“How about we skip going back to the party, and just head back to our room?” You suggested.

“Have I ever told you, you have the best ideas?” Bucky asked you.

“No, but I look forward to hearing it more.” You smirked as you began to tug the men towards the elevator.

Remember to ask if you want to be tagged. Taglists are always open. If you enjoy my writing please consider buying me a coffee.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @miyaeadys-blog @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover

#clint barton #clint x reader #clint barton x reader #clint barton x you #clint barton x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #hawkeye #hawkeye imagines #hawkeye x reader #Winter Solider #winter soldier x reader #winter solider imagines #clint x reader x bucky #clint barton x bucky barnes #avengers x reader #avengers x fem!reader #poly!avengers x reader #winterhawk #winterhawk x reader #clint x bucky #clint barton x reader x bucky barnes #clint barton x female reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #winter soldier x you #hawkeye x you #poly

[hockeyboysiguess]

Through the Storm

a/n: i based it off a poem i wrote three and a half years ago. this is the most angsty thing i’ve ever written. it could definitely have a part two, if you guys want it!

You met Mat almost a year ago to the day and sitting in your favorite coffee shop that Monday afternoon you couldn’t decide if knowing him was one of the most transforming things that had ever happened to you, or one of the absolute worst things. It was probably both, you decided as you sipped your drink, waiting for him to meet you. He was late. He was always late to anything with you. There was definitely a note to take in there about where you fell on his priority list. 

You’d seen him on Saturday and everything had unfortunately gone exactly how you’d tried to make it not go. You’d gone home with him after that party, but everything was so different now then it was before he left for the summer. You shouldn’t have done it, well him, on Saturday. You knew he was terrible for you; your time with him before the summer break had told you that. You still couldn’t avoid him, no matter how much you tried. He felt like he was supposed to be yours, but he wasn’t. You knew part of him really wanted to be, but he wasn’t capable of it. He’d told you so one November night at a particularly vulnerable moment for him. You still tried to fix him anyway. It’s what you’d always done. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a jingle at the cafe door. Mat had arrived only seventeen minutes late. Might be a record for him. He hadn’t really bothered to dress up for you. His dark sweats hung low off his hips and the t-shirt, backwards hat combination told you he’d probably rolled out of bed and come straight here. He waved at you and gestured that he was going to get a coffee and come over. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as he ordered. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have this conversation, but you had to be. Your dad had always told you to try and do one thing everyday that makes you uncomfortable since people only grow during uncomfortable moments. You were pretty sure this was about to account for at least a month’s worth of those moments, possibly longer.

“Hey.” 

You swallowed hard as he settled into his seat, coffee in hand. You could see the tension in his shoulders. He didn’t know what you were going to say to him, but he knew it wasn’t going to be good. Saturday night with him had been rough for both of you and he couldn’t deny it didn’t go well. You fought, as you typically did with him.

“Hey, you.” You cringed hopefully only internally at how awkward that was. Mat smiled softly at you and you couldn’t help but smile back. You pulled yourself back together after a few seconds to continue, “So I wanted to talk to you about the other night.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he cleared his throat. “Uh, what did you want to say about it?”

“Um, I don’t think we should hook up anymore. I actually, uh, don’t think we should really see each other at all anymore.”

Your words hit him harder than you thought they would. He definitely hadn’t been expecting that to come out of your mouth. He scrambled a little, a few sounds escaping his lips as he tried to figure out how to respond.

“Why?” was all he could manage to say. “I thought um, I thought everything was okay enough? I know things were a little messy before I left for the summer I guess but, why?”

“Look, I just don’t think is good for me.” You’d found some footing this time, your words coming out stronger now. “You aren’t good for me, Mat, and I need to do what’s best for me.”

“What do you mean I’m not good for you? I take you to dinner, I bring you to all of my events,” he lowered his voice and leaned in, “and I know the sex is great. So, can you try and let me what’s going through your head before you toss this out?”

“Mat, what even is this? This isn’t real and you won’t understand where I’m coming from,” you sighed, debating if you really want to get into this or not.

You thought you could’ve gotten out of this with just saying you wanted to end this dance you’d been doing for almost a year now. You thought he might have just let you walk because this was so complicated, but that wasn’t the case. You were going to have to go through all of those feelings, piece by piece, reopen the old wounds, just to finally end this. You took a deep breath before beginning.

“Look, Mat, it’s like, I have this beautiful house I created except the house is my life. I built it all on my own. I got splinters in my hands when I laid down the flooring. I had to rebuild the foundation so many times until it was strong enough to hold up my life, to hold me up. I had to create something strong enough to keep me warm and safe and support my life and the person I want to be.

“But god, Mat, you showed up like a full on hurricane and I don’t think you knew that’s what you were doing to my life and I wasn’t ready for it.” You laughed a little in a vain attempt to hold back a sob. “You blew open the windows and doors of my life and the fresh air was so, so wonderful for a few moments.”

Mat smiled softly at you and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back at him even though you knew you were about to hurt him.

“But you actually didn’t come in.” You bit your lip to try to keep yourself together. “You just opened everything up and never actually came into the house. You stood in the foyer, kept your shoes on, and the doors and windows stayed open.”

You shook your head softly, “I was so vulnerable, Mat, because of you. You were supposed to come in and shut everything behind you and stay with me. You were supposed to actually be my partner and support me and the life I made for myself. You were supposed to help keep me safe but you just stood there in the doorway, not sure if you wanted to come in or not for months and months. You left me in limbo where I didn’t know if you really wanted me or if you wanted someone so you weren’t alone when you felt lonely.”

His face fell, the corners of his mouth dipping down as his brows furrowed. He fussed anxiously with the cup in his hands.

“After months of leaving me vulnerable, you just left without any warning because shit got too real for you.” Your volume increased with each work as tears started to sting your eyes. “You left and the wind kicked up. The door got ripped off it’s hinges and the windows shattered. I had to put it back together in a rush. It’s all cardboard and duct tape and all the glass is cracked and I had to nail the door shut so it wouldn’t get carried away in the storm and I’m trying to put myself back together, but it’s so fucking hard. You ruined me, Barzy, and didn’t even notice all of the damage you caused because none of it happened to you.”

Mat swallowed hard. You knew you were hurting him, but he needed to know that this wasn’t something you could just let go and never talk about.

“And now you’re here, six months later like you can just come right back into my life,” you told him. Your hands gripped your coffee mug. Your palms were sweating and the ceramic slid against your hands uncomfortably, matching your discomfort of having to parse this all out for Mat.

“Hey that’s not true. I-”

“Don’t,” you cut him off even though your heart stung in your chest as you did it. “You don’t get to tell me that I’m wrong here, because you’re the one who hurt me. You came back the other night after you tore through the life I built for myself in spite of everything and you came back looking for what? A return to New York from summer break hook up after way too many beers because if you were so drunk that you couldn’t see the wreck you made of me that it wouldn’t be real? But it’s real, Mat. It’s so real that looking at you hurts.” 

“Then why did you sleep with me the other night?” Mat’s jaw was tense. “I know I screwed up. I know I hurt you. I thought about it every day all summer and I-”

“Didn’t text me for almost six months and only spoke to me at all because I was at the same party as you,” you cut him off again. Your pain was switching to anger and you let it fuel your resolve. “Mat, you told me so much about you. We had so many beautiful moments together. You got scared of how real it was so you ran. You ran and decided to just have sex with that girl to get away from it all. We could’ve had something so beautiful and you know it and it terrifies you still.”

Mat’s head fell. He couldn’t look you in the eyes. He knew you were right and there was nothing he could say.

“I slept with you because god, it’s you. You wrecked me, Mat, but you’re still the guy I know so well. I want to not like you, but I do. I like you so much that on Saturday I just didn’t care what sleeping with you would do to me. I wanted you anyway.” Each word was firm and exact, cutting deep into Mat. You drank the last sip of you coffee before finishing. “You are still terrified, Mat. I can see it. You don’t know how to process how you feel. I’m done wasting my time and energy waiting for you to figure out that I’m worth the risk. I’m done getting hurt waiting for you. I’m done.”

You stood up from your seat and grabbed your purse, throwing it over your shoulder. Mat reached out and grabbed your hand. His face was strained. He kept opening his mouth like he wanted to start a sentence, but he couldn’t finish it. He didn’t know what to say to try and get you to stay. 

“Please,” he finally asked you softly, begging you with his soft eyes and a desperate need coating each word. “I know I messed up. Hell, I know I’m messed up, but please. Please give me some more time to try and figure this out. I’m so good when I have you and I know I make you feel so good when we’re together.”

Him reference sex right now when you were trying to talk about real, emotional things pissed you off. It was a desperate attempt to get you to feel something because he couldn’t actually handled talking about real things. 

“You’re so good when you have me, but it doesn’t work the other way around. You should’ve asked six months ago for more time to figure it out. Asking now is just a desperate attempt to keep the status quo because you don’t know how to do anything other then exactly what you want to do, Barzy.” 

Your words were cold, but you didn’t care at this point. Your decision was final. You took your hand out of his, even though it made your heart pulse angrily in your chest and your stomach twist. He was just whispering please softly. He knew it wasn’t working, but he had nothing else to say because he couldn’t give you what you deserved.

“The sex was shit on Saturday,” you added. “I don’t know what happened over the summer, but it’s shit now. Just so you know.” 

You left without another word. Tears spilled out from your eyes as you turned the corner from the coffee shop. Your heart desperately wanted you to go back and fight for him, but you couldn’t fight for someone that was incapable of loving you in the first place. So, you walked on and didn’t look back.

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl writing #hockey imagine #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction

[captainlilyuniverseworld]

Happy Birthday Sam

Title: Happy Birthday Sam

Square Filled: CEO AU

Ship: Sam Wesson/Dean Smith

Tags: CEO AU, Smith/Wesson AU, CEO!Sam, HR!Dean, Sick!Dean, Based on It’s A Terrible Life with a few changes. 

Summary: It’s CEO of Sandover Publishing, Sam Wesson’s birthday. Dean’s home sick and Sam got a few fires to put out at work, but they still manage to spend some time together. 

Word Count: 2115

Created for: @spnaubingo

AN: I went over this thing about five times so any mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

Happy Birthday Sam

“Happy birthday Mr. Wesson.” 

Sam jumped startled as Becky appeared in front of him with a card. “I took the liberty of having everyone in the office sign a birthday card for you.” 

“Thanks, Becky…” Sam awkwardly took the card from her. 

“Hard to believe you’re turning thirty-six today, you hardly look a day over twenty-eight,” she added. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “...How do you know I’m turning thirty-six?” 

She blushed and tapped her headset. “Sandover Publishing House. How may I direct your call?” She gave Sam an apologetic smile before she hurried off back to the receptionist’s desk. 

He shook his head and walked down the hall to his office. He flipped on the lights as he stepped inside and went over to his desk with the intention of turning on his computer and paused when he saw the flowers on his desk. It was a mixed bouquet and lavender and orange roses tied together with a bow in a clear vase. 

Sam picked up the small card attached to the vase and read the small note. Happy Birthday was written on the card in neat calligraphy. He tucked the card back in amongst the flowers and looked up at the knock on his door. 

“Morning Rowena,” he smiled at the older woman. “No Dean this morning?” 

“Poor dear’s at home sick as a dog,” she answered. “He wanted to make sure you took a look at the candidates for the assistant head of IT position. Though we both agree Miss Bradbury is the best choice for the job.” 

“Well at least he took his sick days this time instead of trying to work through it like before,” Sam told her. 

He flipped through the files Rowena had given him and then handed them back. There was a green tab sticky on the second file, usually Dean’s indication who would be the best fit. Red was ‘No way in hell’ and yellow meant ‘with a little work they’d be good’. 

“If Dean says she’d be a good fit, then give her a call and schedule a drug test and background check,” Sam told her. “I trust his judgment. He hired me after all.” 

“Wonderful, we’ve already got her scheduled for next Monday,” Rowena told him. “Oh, and before I forget. I left you a little something in your second drawer. Happy birthday Sam.” 

He started to protest but she was already gone. He sighed and opened the second drawer of his desk and saw a gold gift bag. He peeked inside and saw an assortment of various candles. He made a mental note to send her a thank you card. 

Sam reached for his phone as it started ringing and leaned back in his chair 

“Wesson speaking,” he answered. 

“I can’t do it.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Can’t do what Chuck?”

"I can't do it. Speak in front of all those people, what am I supposed to say?" The man asked. "What if I say the wrong thing? What if they don’t like the new book?” 

"You'll be fine Chuck," Sam told him. "It's a simple interview. Answer a couple of questions, announce the publication date for the new book. Take some pictures with a few fans, you'll be home by 9 pm to chat with Mistress Magda." 

"Okay," the man took a deep breath. "Okay. Thanks, Sam...and Happy Birthday. I uh, I forgot to get you a gift." 

"Don't worry about it," Sam answered. 

He hung up and turned his attention to be his email to get started on work. He was tempted to shoot Dean and email and see how the other man was doing. Even if he was home sick, Dean was a workaholic at heart. 

He grabbed his phone as it started ringing again. 

“You’ll be fine Chuck, ” Sam said by way of greeting. 

“...It’s Cas..” Castiel replied. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam apologized. “Chuck called about his interview, but that’s not important. What’s up?” 

“There was an issue with the printers,” Castiel answered. “The book covers, they’re uh…” he trailed off awkwardly. 

“I’m on my way,” Sam told him. 

He hung up and made his way down to the receiving bay. Castiel was at one of the tables with one of the large boxes of books open, a few stacked next to him, and packing peanuts on the floor. 

“What’s the problem Cas?” Sam asked 

Castiel wordlessly handed Sam one of the books and Sam snorted as he looked at the cover 

“...At least it’s tasteful?” Sam added. 

“We can not put these on the shelves, no matter how...tasteful,” Castiel replied. “Adler would have a fit. He’s still upset about that petition that went around a few months ago when we announced the reprinting of books 1-5.” 

“Adler can suck on a lemon,” Sam said bluntly. “How many were printed?” 

“Just a couple hundred for Chuck’s book signing on Saturday,” Castiel answered. “I tried to call the printers, but there was no answer.” 

“Of course there wasn’t,” Sam sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Just...put these in my office for now. I’ll go over to the printers and see if I can’t give Lucifer a kick in the ass.” 

Castiel nodded and started to put the books back in the box. “Oh, and happy birthday Sam. Did the flowers survive the night okay?” 

“The roses? They weren’t delivered this morning?” Sam asked. 

“Last night,” Castiel answered. “I saw them outside your door, so I put them in your office before I went home last night. Someone must like you.” 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. 

“Well, lavender roses usually mean that someone has a crush on you. And Orange means that they’re proud of you. So whoever got them for you must like you and the man that you are. Or they just liked the color combination,” Castiel answered. 

“Thanks...I think,” Sam nodded and went back to his office to grab his keys.

He drove to the printers and followed the sound of loud rock music to the offices on the second floor. He turned off the stereo and dropped one of the books on Lucifer’s desk. 

“Real mature Lucifer. What’d you do? Find some fan art online and switch out the real picture we sent over?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Like it’s that different from the actual cover photo,” Lucifer smirked. 

“You know this is illegal right? What if these had made their way to the bookstore instead? Sandover could’ve been sued by the original artist,” Sam told him. 

“Cas would’ve caught it, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’ve already got Crowley printing out the books with the right covers. You’ll have them tomorrow afternoon you fuddy-duddy.” 

“You are a monumental pain in my ass you know that?” Sam said. 

“Who? Me?” Lucifer smiled innocently. “By the way, this is for you.”

He set a wrapped bottle on the table and Sam picked it up cautiously. “What is it?” 

“Just open it would you,” Lucifer told him. 

Sam tore off the paper and raised an eyebrow at the bottle of tequila. “If you find your new age hard to swallow just add some tequila.” He read off the note that was taped onto the bottle. 

“Consider it a birthday gift from me and Crowley,” Lucifer added. 

"Thanks," Sam smiled a bit. "...and it was a little funny. But please refrain from trying to get my place of work sued." 

"Yeah yeah yeah," Lucifer waved his hand dismissively. 

Sam turned the stereo back on, on his way out, and drove back to work. 

"Happy birthday Sammy." Gabriel thrust a small wrapped package into his hand. "Don't open it till you're alone okay." He winked and walked off. 

Sam shook his head as he walked back to his office and set the tequila and Gabriel's present on the coffee table. He turned his computer back on and pulled up the website from the café that was down the street to order his lunch. 

He looked up at the knock on his office door and saw one of the delivery people from the café. 

"Turkey BLT and medium Caeser salad with a strawberry banana smoothie?" The guy asked as he read off the receipt. 

"Uh...yeah…" Sam stood up and went to meet him. "But I didn't, I haven't even ordered yet." 

"Looks like someone bought you lunch," the younger man said. 

Sam took the food and tipped the guy before he went back to his desk. He looked at the roses, and at his lunch. He wasn't sure if he should be flattered or weirded out. He was too hungry to care and he dug into his lunch. He picked up Gabriel's gift and unwrapped it. 

From the man that brought you Casa Erotica, the novelization comes a new series set in the steamy world of office romances. Featuring Dan Hanson and Sean Blythe. 

Sam grabbed his phone and called Gabriel. 

"Did you write an erotic novel about me and Dean?" Sam asked when the line picked up. 

"Don't flatter yourself, Sam. Sure Dan's got your build and maybe Sean's got Dean's boyish charm, but that is where all similarities end," Gabriel told him. 

"You realize if Dean sees this he is going to massacre you," Sam replied. 

"Guess it’s a good thing Deano’s home sick today,” Gabriel mused before he hung up. 

Sam hid the manuscript in the bottom drawer of his file cabinet and locked it for extra measure. He’d get rid of it later...after he read it. He pulled up the highlights from the previous night’s football game and used it as background noise as he ate his lunch and finished going through his emails. 

He was getting ready to throw the trash away when he saw a message typed out in the notes section of the receipt for his lunch. 

Enjoy the rabbit food Rapunzel. Don’t work to hard, it is your birthday after all.  

He smiled and knew exactly who’d gotten him the flowers and his lunch. 

                                  --------------------------------------------

Sam hoped it wasn’t too late as he rode the elevator to the third floor. He had a bag of takeout in one hand and a few movies in the other. He stepped off the elevator once it reached the third floor. He shifted the movies to his other hand as he knocked on the apartment marked 3F and smiled when Dean answered the door. 

He was wearing an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt with a pair of sweats and a large thick comforter wrapped around him. 

“Sam?” He asked hoarsely. “What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to say thank you for the flowers, and for lunch,” Sam answered. 

He couldn’t tell if Dean blushed or if his face was red because it was sick. 

“Although you didn’t have to do that,” Sam added. 

Dean shrugged a little. “I wanted to do something nice for your first birthday together...I would’ve baked you a cake but vertigo’s a bitch.” He broke off with a cough. “I’m glad you liked the flowers though. I almost went with red but it seemed a bit to cliché, and I didn’t want you to think Becky got them for you.”

“Shockingly Becky was pretty tame today,” Sam told him. “I went by that deli you like and picked up some of their chicken noodle soup. I also rented us a few movies, I would’ve liked to use the gift certificate Adler gave me for a way too overpriced steak, but we can go when you’re feeling better.” 

“Sam...you really don’t want to spend your birthday night with a sick person,” Dean started to protest. 

“Well, considering it’s my birthday, you don’t really get a say of who I get to spend it with now do you?” Sam asked. “Now get your ass back on the couch.” 

“Don’t make me laugh, my throat feels like sandpaper,” Dean told him. 

Sam walked into the apartment and shut the door behind him while Dean tried to clean up around the couch. Sam got one of the movies set up and grabbed a bowl for the soup, and joined him on the couch. 

“Happy birthday Sam,” Dean told him. “I promise next year will be a lot better.” 

“You know? All things considered, this one turned out to be pretty good,” Sam replied as he got comfortable. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know why Gabriel asked me to pick between Sean and Sheene would you?” Dean asked as he ate his soup.

“Nope, no idea,” Sam answered. 

“Such a weird little man,” Dean mused as Sam wrapped an arm around him. 

#@spnaubingo #supernatural #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #sam wesson #dean smith #gabriel #castiel #lucifer #rowena #CEO!AU #CEO!Sam #Head of HR Dean #smith/wesson #sam and dean #sam/dean

[staywhelmedbatfam]

Sticky Notes (1/4)

~Bruce Wayne/Reader~

Summary: Soulmate AU where you’re given 100 sticky notes that will appear somewhere in your soulmate’s line of sight after you write on them. To keep everyone from immediately finding out who their soulmate is, you can’t write your name until the very last note.

Part One (You’re Here) / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

By the way, I picked this picture because it’s pretty much the vision I had in my head for one of the scenes near the end of this part. I actually had to go through Son of Batman to find this particular scene and take a screenshot lol.

***

Some people get lucky and meet their soulmates before they receive their sticky notes. Others don’t care and throw theirs away. Then there are the people that use them up and have either met or gotten one step closer to meeting their soulmate. You, however, were in none of those categories.

For years, you’ve looked forward to your eighteenth birthday just because that’s when you would receive your sticky notes. A couple of months before that day, though, you made a mistake. A mistake that ended with you coming home from a doctor’s appointment that forever changed your life.

You had grabbed the mail on the way inside and found the small package addressed to you. Sighing, you opened it and found a stack of a hundred (f/c) sticky notes. Tossing the packaging into the trash, you went straight into your bedroom and opened one of your dresser drawers. Digging to the very back, you put the notes inside and covered them with the clothes you had in that drawer. Those sticky notes were the last thing you wanted to think about. After seeing them, there was only one thought running through your mind. What man would want to be soulmates with someone that was pregnant with another man’s child?

***

Nearly ten years later, you’d long since moved out of your parent’s house and rented an apartment for you and your daughter. The last time you’d ever thought about those stupid notes was when you put them away in the apartment after the move. Not once have you had a sticky note appear from your soulmate anyway.

It was a Saturday afternoon. Currently, you were doing laundry as (D/N) colored in the living room. She ran into the laundry room, prepared to show you her latest creation. At first glance, you saw ‘I love you, Mommy’ in her handwriting with a little heart at the end of it and smiled. All you needed was another second to process what you saw to know that she had found your sticky notes.

You followed after her back into the living room and kneeled beside her. “(D/N), you can’t write or draw on these. These are Mommy’s special sticky notes.” She knew what that meant. Some of her friends at school had talked about their parents using them and, once you told her that the one she had just written on was yours, big crocodile tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mommy! I didn’t mean to!”

Engulfing her in a hug, you tried to calm her down. “It’s okay, sweetie. You didn’t know. I’ll go grab you some regular paper that you can use, alright?”

“Okay…” She was sniffling, but there wasn’t any evidence that she would be shedding any more tears. In a last attempt to make her realize that everything really was fine, you kissed the top of her head.

***

Later that night after (D/N) had gone to bed, you were putting dishes away and something caught you by surprise. When you had opened a drawer to put away a spatula, there was a black sticky note with writing in what appeared to be silver permanent marker.

‘I never imagined that would be the first thing I read from my soulmate.’ Your eyes widened. For what seemed like ages, you stared down at the little piece of paper. This was your first contact with your soulmate. What do you do? Should you just ignore it like it never happened? Or write back? What would you even write? You decided to leave it be for the time being and go to bed.

A few days later, you still hadn’t replied nor received any more notes from your soulmate. Until now, that is. Another of the black sticky notes laid on your desk when you returned from your lunch break at work. ‘Are you ever going to respond? Before I got that first note, I thought I just didn’t have a soulmate.’

This time, the note caught your attention and you narrowed your eyes at the written words. You knew just the response and once you got home from work, you grabbed your sticky note stack and a pen.

‘That’s a two-way street, you know. You could’ve written before now too.’

For some unknown reason, you couldn’t fall asleep tonight to save your life. All you did was toss and turn. With a huff, you sat up in your bed and turned on the lamp that sat on your nightstand. A note was stuck to the lamp.

‘So, you are alive…’

A second later, you were grabbing your sticky notes and writing back. If you weren’t going to get any sleep, you might as well keep yourself occupied.

‘Look, the only reason I never wrote was that I didn’t think anyone would want to be my soulmate when I’ve got a kid that’s not theirs.’

This time, the response was a lot quicker. Apparently, your soulmate wasn’t sleeping either.

‘I’ve got three adopted sons and one biological son.’ Your eyes widened in surprise.

‘I… take it back then. Assuming that you do want to be my soulmate.’

‘It’s not like I had any say in who my soulmate is.’

‘Ok, wise guy. I told you why I didn’t write, now it’s your turn.’

There was a lag in getting the next note. You waited for about ten minutes before the next one showed up.

‘I always thought my soulmate would be better off without me and my baggage. So, when I thought that the universe just didn’t have a soulmate for me, I didn’t think about it anymore.’

A confused look formed on your face. ‘You’re calling your sons baggage?’

‘No. This began before them.’

‘So… what then? A bad relationship or something?’

‘Or something. It’s complicated.’ You raised an eyebrow at the response but didn’t press the issue further. That kind of answer typically means that it’s a touchy topic someone doesn’t want to talk about.

Glancing at the digital clock that sat next to the lamp, you couldn’t believe that it was one in the morning. Even though you still didn’t feel like you could fall asleep, you would just have to force yourself to lay in bed with your eyes closed until you drift off.

Before you did that though, you sent one last note. ‘I have to be at work early, so I’m going to bed. Goodnight.’ You added a smiley face at the end of your note and immediately regretted it, but it was too late now.

‘Goodnight,’ came the immediate reply and you finally turned the lamp off.

***

Two weeks have gone by since that night you couldn’t sleep. You’ve exchanged many more notes with your soulmate – fifty-two to be exact – and you haven’t had a sleepless night since. For some reason, you decided to keep track of how many notes you’d used.

Maybe it’s because you could finally tell him your name when you got to the last one. So many people have tried to write their names, but they end up wasting a sticky note. Any time you write your name before the hundredth note, it doesn’t appear when it reaches your soulmate. Even something that would give the slightest clue as to who you were wouldn’t appear. In the end, you’re better off not even trying and being patient.

Most of the replies you get come during the day and, once the evening rolls around, they’re pretty limited. This makes you think that he has more free time in the middle of the day. Perhaps he works at night? Even if your guess is right or wrong, it doesn’t stop you from writing on your sticky notes at any time.

Sitting at your designated work desk, you had just gotten back from your lunch break and resumed working. As you typed along on your keyboard, one of your fingers felt paper where your number pad was supposed to be. Pausing, you looked down to find a sticky note and a smile formed on your face.

‘I hope your day is going better than mine. I’m stuck in meetings all day.’

You plucked the note from its spot and admired it. Your soulmate had elegant handwriting. Reading the words on the small piece of paper again, you got lost in a daze. At least until you could hear your boss’ voice get closer to your desk. Quickly, you tucked the note underneath your keyboard and resumed your work. It’s like you were back in school – passing notes during class.

Before you knew it, your boss stood a couple of feet away from you. Stealing a quick glance, it looked like he was giving a tour to a few men, one of whom you recognized as the billionaire Bruce Wayne. Said billionaire looked in your direction and you immediately averted your eyes back to your computer screen.

In your haste to continue working and returning your gaze to the document you were currently filling out, your keyboard shifted just enough to expose a small amount of the silver writing on the black sticky note. You noticed rather quickly and fixed the keyboard to cover it. Your boss didn’t seem to notice, so you believed yourself to be in the clear. It didn’t even cross your mind that anyone else might have noticed.

Masterlist

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#soulmate au #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader

[srhlsx]

Rewritten & reposted March 24, 2021

MASTER | Ch. 11 | CHAPTER 12 | Ch. 13

Saturday had finally rolled around, a day you’d been looking forward to most of the week because of the plans you had made with Bokuto. Nothing too specific had been set up for what the two of you were going to do, but Bokuto told you to dress comfortably and to meet him at a nearby park at a certain time. 

You hadn’t felt such excitement like this outside of volleyball for quite some time and you had to remind yourself to stay calm and try your best not to make an utter fool of yourself at some point during the night. You kept thinking back to all the embarrassing comments Rumi was making at optional practice that morning when you had told her of your plans with the Fukurodani captain.

“Will there be adult supervision? I had plans but if you need a chaperone I’d be happy to help. Do his parents know who exactly you are?”

It was late in the afternoon, you were tidying up around the house and thinking about when you should start getting ready when you’d gotten notice from your dad. 

New Message: 5:17PM

Dad: Late night tonight, can you manage?

Your heart sank deep into the pit of your stomach as you squeezed your eyes shut as tightly as you possibly could. A part of you wanted to scream; to call up your dad, and say every horrible thing you could think of, but was that going to get you anywhere? Probably not. Things hadn’t shaped up between the two of you since you let him have it a few nights earlier - he was as skilled at avoiding confrontation as he was home.

So instead, you let out a heavy sigh, sinking down onto the floor of the kitchen, and really tried your hardest not to let the massive tears pooling in your eyes spill over. 

It's not like your dad knew that you had made plans with Bokuto and he was therefore actively preventing you from doing anything social with your life. In fact, your dad didn’t even know that there was someone in your life you wanted to spend additional time with. Maybe not anymore after this... He was caught up in his work again, it wasn’t the first Saturday he hadn’t come home and it wouldn’t be the last. 

So could you actually be mad at him? Yes… but not enough that you were going to do anything about it.

You tilted your head back and hit it a few times against the cabinet you rested your back against. The loud thunk, thunk, thunk rattled around the small space and made you feel marginally better. In the other room, you could hear the television turn up louder as your siblings yelled at one another about who was going to get to sit where.

It was much too last minute to ask Baba to spend the evening with Eiji and Yua, although you knew she would say yes - after everything she’d already done you didn’t have it in your heart to drag the old woman out of her home so late in the evening. You typed out a text to Bokuto, apologizing profusely, hoping that he understood there wasn’t much you could do in the situation. 

Of course he did.

Of course he understood, of course he could reschedule, of course he was okay with it. He was almost too good. You were brought back to your conversation with Shouta earlier this week and his comments about Bokuto as a person. You shook your head in disbelief.

You wiped under your eyes at the nonexistent tears that were still threatening to fall, laughing at the joke Bokuto made in his last text to you, and finally stood up from your place on the kitchen floor.

“Eiji? Chibi?” You called out. “Change of plans, we’re getting delivery tonight!”

*

Having ordered for yourself and your siblings, it was no surprise when you heard a knock at the front door to your apartment. You tried to get Yua to calm down in her seat, while Eiji was setting the table, before jogging down the hallway and counting the money in your hand.

“Hi, sorry! How much do I owe you again?” You asked breathless as you swung open the door without much thought. You looked up to be met with sparkling golden eyes that caught you completely off guard, making you stumble back in shock to collect yourself. “Oh my God! Wh-what are you-”

“I uh, went to the wrong place at first.” Bokuto chuckled, almost looking embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. 

Bokuto knocked confidently on the door to the small but nicely kept house he had dropped you off at previously. He remembered how your little sister came barreling down the sidewalk to greet you, making your face light up with an excitement he could only dream of one day being directed at him.

He was only mildly surprised when an older woman answered the door with a pleasant smile, he thought maybe she was your grandmother. He greeted her kindly, glancing over her head to the hallway behind her in hopes of seeing someone he recognized. “Hello there, young man!”

“Hi,” Bokuto politely bowed his head in greeting and looked back at the woman. “Um.. Is (y/n) here?”

“Oh dear,” The old woman smiled, patting Bokuto reassuringly on the shoulder and motioning for him to bend down so she could better talk to him. “No, no, she lives...”

The old woman had given vague directions on where you lived, Bokuto being only slightly embarrassed that he had gone to the wrong place - but he was so sure that was the home he dropped you off at?

He wandered around the third floor of the run-down apartment building, not quite remembering the exact number given to him, so he resigned to start knocking on doors. He stepped up to the one that happened ro be right in front of him, fist raised, and knocked out a rhythm. 

You noticed that in one hand he was holding a bag from the same corner mart you and him had run into each other all that time ago. His other hand was clutching the braided leather of a dog leash, the end of which was attached to a handsome lump of fur who looked up at you with his tongue out and shining eyes. “The old lady at that house said I could find you here, but she only said third floor so we’ve kind of been knocking on every door for the last twenty minutes.”

“You could’ve texted me,” You laughed, leaning on the doorframe while you looked up at him. You were positive that your gaze was probably similar to someone having a dream, you still could not fathom that he was standing at the front door to your apartment. “What-”

“You said you had to cancel to watch your siblings,” He said before you could even get your full question out. “Buta was devastated so I brought snacks, drinks, and movies. Figured two and a half against two is a much more fair fight than you going at it alone!”

You beamed up at the way he confidently spoke, as if his answer was the most obvious thing in the world. Of course he was going to come over when you had to cancel, of course he was going to spend time with not only you but your siblings as well, of course he was just too good.

“Of course you named your dog pig. We were just waiting on dinner- oof!” You looked down to see yourself getting pushed out of the doorway by Yua, her small body standing in between you and Bokuto while she looked up at him with wide, recognizing eyes. 

“Botudo!”

Bokuto laughed when he saw your reaction to your sister’s greeting for him. He crouched down to come to eye-level with her and started speaking to her like they were old friends. “Hey hey Yua, long time no see~”

She didn’t respond right away, eyes instead focused on the dog in front of her. Bokuto glanced up at you with a knowing smirk and leaned closer to your sister, one hand clutching at the collar around his dog’s neck.

“This is Buta,” Bokuto introduced his pet like you’d introduce another human. “Buta, meet Yua.”

The dog tilted his head to the side slightly before jumping forward and licking right up the side of Yua’s face. She let out a squeal of excitement at the tickling sensation, her reaction making you laugh as well. 

“You bring snacks?” Your sister then asked, her short attention span shifting and peering into the bag hanging from Bokuto’s hand.

He laughed again and opened up the bag more for her to be able to see, “I sure did. Movies too, is that okay?”

“Yes,” She nodded, looking back up at him. “Rules say dinner first, snack after.”

“Did your neechan make those rules?” Bokuto jokingly sneered while he looked to you, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“No, silly!” Yua said, grabbing Bokuto by the hem of his shirt as he stood up and started to drag him past you into the house. “Mama made the rules!”

You smiled sadly down at your sister, something that Bokuto did not miss as he was led into your home. You shut the door quietly behind you but didn’t lock it, knowing that the food was set to be delivered some time soon as well.

When you got into the kitchen, you saw that Yua had sat Bokuto at the seat next to her - your normal spot- and Eiji was already rushing around to set another spot at the table and handle the presence of a dog sniffing around the table. He looked up to you, a slightly exasperated look on his face, as he grabbed another setting. “You didn’t tell me there was a guest coming!”

“Sorry, Eiji.” You said, ruffling his hair as he scurried by. You pulled out a bowl and began filling it with water from the sink to set down on the floor for your additional guest.

“You also didn’t tell me you knew a top five wing spiker in the flippin’ country, (y/n).” The way your brother spoke, it was like you were talking about an international celebrity. Although to Eiji anyone who competitively played the sport of volleyball was a star in his mind - yourself included.

“Okay well I think my own ranking-” He continued to glare at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it!” 

“I forgive you,” He whispered, like talking about the guest who was making jokes with your sister too loudly would make him disappear. “Do you think he’ll want to talk about volleyball with me?”

You looked over to Bokuto, who happened to be looking at you at the same time, smiling brightly when he saw that he had your attention once again. You smiled back, reaching down to swipe Eiji’s hair away from his forehead, a motherly habit you’d adopted somewhere in life, and told him that you didn’t think it’d be a problem at all to talk to Bokuto about volleyball.

*

#bokuto koutaro #koutaro bokuto #bokuto x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! x reader #hq!! x reader #hq!! #hq

[lynelovespopculture]

Chilling Adventures of Zelda Back by Popular Demand!!!

 CHAPTER 4-A FAUSTUS DIVIDED

 Late  the next morning, Hilda prepared a tray of food for her sister. Hilda’s heart broke last night when she  had entering the sisters shared bedroom last night and heard Zelda sobbing  under her blankets. Hilda knew that her sister discovered that something upsetting. During the night Zelda’s head popped out from under the covers, the tears had dried and her older sister was now sleeping soundly. Hilda went downstairs to cook and have  breakfast with the  kids. As soon as the meal was over, Ambrose announced that he was going straight to the academy to look into  the details of the spell that would break the curse. Sabrina originally was going  to go with him, but she got a text from Roz saying that she was waiting for  her friend at the mall.

“Oh, I forgot!” Sabrina moaned.

“Go  on, love,” Hilda encouraged. “Go meet Roz. It’s your birthday, go have fun. Just remember you promised   us a family dinner before we let you loose for the night.

“Okay  Auntie,” Sabrina hugged    her aunt before  leaving  with Ambrose, who promised to keep her updated.

Hilda puttered around the house for another hour before deciding to take a tray up to Zelda. “Good morning, sleepy head!”

Zelda groaned and stirred  before siting up. “Morning,” She said to her sister as  stretched before she froze. “Wait a minute. What time is it?”

“A little past 11.”

“Past 11? I got to get to school,” Zelda pushed off her duvet and   swung her legs to the floor before Hilda was at her side.

“Oh no, you don’t! It’s Saturday, Zelds. There are no classes on Saturday. Therefore, the headmistress can stay in  bed  and feed my new unborn  niece or  nephew.”

With a sigh and an eye roll, Zelda got back into bed and thanked her sister as Hilda placed the tray in front of Zelda. “Saturday? That  means is  Sabrina’s birthday.”

“That’s right.” Hilda sat down on the bed.  “Can you believe our girl is 17 already?”

Zelda picked up the  mug of coffee. “Actually, I can’t believe it’s only  been a year since Sabrina fled her dark  baptism. It seems like several lifetimes ago.”

Hilda nodded. “Speaking of Sabrina’s birthday, we already agreed to let Sabrina spend tonight with her friends after our family dinner and  remember I’m going to help Dr. C tonight with his Halloween midnight madness sale.”

Zelda nodded. “I remember.”

“What about you, sister? Just a quiet night at  home? No Halloween hijinks?”  Hilda could only hope.

“Actually, I’m going ghostbusting tonight.” 

Hilda closed her eyes and groaned. She was been dreading this. “Am I supposed to pretend that doesn’t mean  that you going to contact Edward tonight?”

“You damn right I’m going to  contact Edward tonight! Don’t you dare pretend that our brother hasn’t a lot to answer for!”

“I’m not! I know Edward  has a lot to explain but can’t you just wait for me”

“Oh, for Hecate’s sake, Hildy!” Zelda put the tray aside and got out  of bed. “We are talking about summoning 1 ghost on all hollow’s eve. A night where the veil between the living and the dead is lifted. A 1st-year student can do alone!”

“Yes, but you’re  pregnant”

“I know that and I’m fine! Spellcasting is not  a strain on me. Why is stressing me out is knowing that Faustus is at  the mercy of an insanity curse that  Edward caused and I need to know why. If you will  excuse me, I’m going to take a  bath,” Zelda walked out of  the room before  she added, “Then I have some baking to do.”

Ambrose was working in the office when Prudence walked  by and watched him by the doorway. Prudence  didn’t sleep a wink last night. She thought she needed to be alone, but she was overwhelming grateful to the fates when Dorcas found her. Cuddled up in bed next to her sister, she told Dorcas all about the memory spell and how bittersweet it made her feel. Prudence couldn’t believe how awful  both her grandparents were, especially her grandfather, who wanted her death simply because she was alive. Prudence broke down and cried in Dorcas’s arms when she spoke of her mother. Last night was the 1st time Prudence had    ever seen her mother with her own eyes. However, her feelings quickly soured when the memories showed that her mother had only conceived her to use her as a pawn to trap her father into marriage and when that had failed, Madeline took her own life not giving a 2nd  thought her baby. The great irony was that the only person who seemed to care about Prudence was her father. The same father she tried once to kill. Ever since she found out that she was Father Blackwood’s daughter, she had been upset with him for letting her believe her whole life she was a orphan and even after they both knew the truth, he kept denying her the family name, Prudence had never dreamed that it was in a desperate bid to protect her.

“Good thing Ambrose didn’t let you kill him in Scotland.” Dorcas’s comment was   meant as causal, but  it did keep Prudence awake all night.  She had broken up with Ambrose, months ago, for that very reason. Prudence shivered in her bed as she thought of what could’ve been. What if she had killed her father in Scotland and then came home to learn  of Edward Spellman’s curse and her  father’s journal and  memories. Prudence knew she would’ve  never forgiven herself. What about Ambrose, could he forgive her? For blaming him for making what she knew now was   the right decision? She had to admit that working alongside him to research   the curse had felt good, almost like old times. Watching him working at Zelda’s desk now, Prudence couldn’t help but wonder, could adorable Ambrose give her a 2nd chance, or had she blown it for good?

All Prudence could do now was clear her throat and make her presence known. “Hey.”

As soon as he saw her, Ambrose  stood up. “Oh, hi. I know you said you wanted to be alone last night but that didn’t stop me from worrying about you.”

Prudence’s heart leapt with hope. “You were worried about me?”

“Of course! Last night was very hard on all us. I woke up thinking about you.”

“I woke up thinking about you too.” Prudence  confessed. “About the day we broke up.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “I’ve been thinking how wrong I was to blame you about happened with my sisters and   I so glad that my father is still alive. If I had-“  Prudence couldn’t even finish her thought.

“Hey, no one knew about the curse back then. You have nothing to feel  bad about.”

“Except the way  I treated you.” She whispered.

“Pru, today’s Sabrina’s birthday and-“

“You’re busy, I get it.” Prudence finished for him quickly.

Ambrose smiled. “Let me finish. As I  said, today’s Sabrina’s birthday and the aunties agreed to let Sabrina run around with her friends to make up for last year after a family dinner. I was going  to ask you if you wanted to do something after dinner? You know, something not work-rated.”

Prudence smiled; it wasn’t exactly a date, but it was a step in the right direction. “I’d love to. So, what are you doing?” 

Ambrose turned back to the desk. “Not  much. I’m just getting the details of the spell that would break the curse. It’s fairly  straightforward except  for 1 speedbump. Unlike the memory spell, for   this one to work, we need the body that your father and the curse currently share. We need Father Blackwood and except for the 1-time Aunt Z told us about,  no one seen him in months.”

Prudence didn’t know what to say so she just sighed.

 By 7  o’clock that evening, the Spellman household was in chaos. Sabrina, Ambrose, and Hilda were all getting ready to go out for the night. Sabrina left first, Ambrose was going to give Hilda a ride to the bookstore, so  he waited for  her to get her  bag and keys from the  kitchen where Zelda was. Hilda picked up her wallet as she threw a side-look at her older sister.

“Are you sure I  can’t convince you 1 last time to put this off and wait for me?”

Zelda sighed.  They had been fighting about this all day and Zelda was so done with the subject. “Are you going to be late for work?” Zelda asked, annoyed.

Hilda gave an eyeroll  and left with Ambrose. Zelda went to sink and pulled back the curtain to watch the car leave the grounds and headed for town.

“Finally!” Zelda said as she turned to go set up. Zelda laid out a tablecloth of   black lace on the kitchen table. Then she got the plates, silverware and the cake. Next, she  took out the black candles and lit them.  Finished with the table, Zelda went to the cupboard and took out a glass bottle. The afternoon Zelda had gone out to the graveyard and collect dirt from Edward’s grave  in the glass bottle. She now carried  the bottle with her, as Zelda walked around the kitchen, closing  doors and curtains, making sure that the room’s only light source were the candles on the table. Finally, Zelda took a seat at the end of the table, uncorked the bottle and poured the graveyard dirt on the tablecloth. Zelda’s fingers went to work, as if kneeling a fine dough, Zelda formed the dirt in a neat, little circle. Then she pricked her finger with a needle and watched her drop of blood fall into the dirt. With 1 finger, Zelda followed the dirt around and around again and again as she called out, “With the aid of our shared bloodline and the dirt of your final resting place, I call you, Edward Spellman, into this realm, into this house and into this room.”

Zelda heard the whooshing sound and knew she was successful as she wiped her hands with a napkin. She placed a fake smile on her face before Zelda looked up at  her brother. “Hello, Edward.”

“Hello, sister. This is quite a surprise. To what do I owe the invite?”  Edward smiled too and it took all Zelda had not to go to him and slap that smile off his face.

Instead, Zelda said, “It was impossible not to think of you today, as it is Sabrina’s 17th birthday. I didn’t want you to feel  left out. I mean, just because you’re not Sabrina’s father, it didn’t mean you’re not still her dad and as you can  see, I find myself home alone tonight so I was wondering if you would  to share a piece of leftover birthday  cake with me.”

“How nice of you, Zelda. Of  course, I would love a piece of cake.”  Edward sat down at the  table and helped  himself to the cake as Zelda lit up a cigarette.

Zelda watched Edward take a few bites of  the cake before she spoke again. “Oh, silly me! I think I forgot to tell you something. As this is her 1st birthday with her friends  knowing she’s a witch, Sabrina saw no reason why they shouldn’t come to dinner especially since  Ambrose showed up with Prudence. So,  we decided to all  go out to a restaurant and we ate Sabrina’s cake there.”

Edward got confused and put down his fork. “Then, what are you feeding me?”

For the 1st time that evening, Zelda’s smile was genuine. “You remember Mother’s secret recipe for truth cake, don’t you, Edward? One  bite and you  cannot lie.”

“And why are you feeding me truth cake?” Edward was annoyed.

“Because I don’t trust you.” Zelda snapped.

“You’re being absurd!” Edward got up and walked away. “I’ll come back when you’re in a better mood.” Edward tried to leave but he bounced back against  the air  when he tried to go past the kitchen entrance. He  looked down and saw the line of graveyard dirt spilled across the threshold.

“You’re not going anywhere, Edward.” Zelda  said calmly from the table. “Not until I give you leave to go.”

Edward turned back to look at his sister.  “You sound like I’m on trial.”

Zelda shrugged. “Perhaps you are, Edward, perhaps you are.”

Edward walked back to the table and reclaimed his seat. “I get it, you’re still upset that I  never told you that Sabrina  is the dark   lord’s child.”

Zelda laughed shortly. “Oh no. We are way past that, Edward.” Zelda produced the ripped page and slid it across the table so Edward could see it. “Do you recognize this?”

Edward immediately whitened. “Where did  you get that?” He whispered.

“From Lucifer himself.”

“So, you’re  back worshipping the dark lord, sister?”

“No. I’m only working for him temporarily and stop changing the subject!  How dare you pay  for   your happiness in the past by dooming my future!”

“When I made that deal, Faustus was still married to Constance.”

Zelda tilted her head.  “That might be a true statement, but it is just still an excuse. You know the dark lord would not accept a deal that is unlikely to come true.”

“Sister, you are overreacting. This does even concern you.”

Zelda’s jaw dropped. “You put  a curse on my marriage and now you have the nerve to say it doesn’t concern me?”

“Yes! It says the insanity curse affects   Faustus, and only Faustus!”

“Yes, but when he suffers from the insanity curse, Faustus wants your bloodline gone. Every one of  us dead!”

“Wait, what?!”

“Edward Spellman! You, who were a high priest and a headmaster, made the rookie mistake of putting a curse in affect when you didn’t know what the curse includes?”

Edward was silent and Zelda felt her blood boiling.

“Of all the stupid, irresponsible things for you to do!”

“Are you questioning me, sister?”

“Yes, I am! Edward, because of your carelessness, everyone was put in danger. My husband, the family, the coven even my child!”

“This has nothing  to do with Sabrina!” Edward insisted.

“I’m glad to hear that but I wasn’t talking about her,” For the 1st time since her brother was summoned, Zelda stood up and unbuttoned her blazer, showing her growing bump. “I was speaking of my baby.”

Edward looked shocked. “Oh no! You’re still pregnant!”

Now it was Zelda’s turn to be shocked. “Excuse me? Still?”

“I had thought that you being shot would have taken care of that problem!”

Zelda back away, furious and barely believing that this  was her brother talking. “My  baby is not a problem! Why did do this? Why did you damn Faustus?”

“I was trying to protect  you.” Edward explained.

“Protect me,” Zelda repeated with a sneer, “from the man who loves me?  Besides, you were truly trying to protect me, you should have tried to warn me. You know, before the wedding.”

“I did try to warn you.” Edward stressed.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she witnessed Edward eating the truth cake, Zelda would swear her brother was lying. “How?” She demanded, “because I surely would have remembered that conversation!”

“I tried to scare you away from him,” Edward explained. “By moving up the curse.”

Zelda sat again, her mind spinning. “Moving up the  curse?! So, when did it actually start?”

“Right after  Constance died.” Edward said,  very matter of fact.

“Of course,” Zelda said more to herself than to her brother. “It all makes sense now. His super sexist attitude, his cruelly to  Prudence over not recognizing  her. Oh,  Hecate, the anti-pope! Faustus is as innocent as Ambrose!” Before the tears could come, Zelda  looked at Edward. “Why did you do this? When his only true crime was loving me?!”

“You keep saying that. How can you be sure  he loves you?”

“While I was trying to discover your secrets, I discovered Faustus’s journals and I discovered many things I never knew and how many lies  you’re told Hilda and me. After I found my brother cursed my husband, I didn’t know what to believe so the family  helped me performed a memory spell and let’s just my opinions about him and you have changed.” 

Edward waved a hand dismissingly. “Faustus Blackwood is a dangerous  man. His parents really screwed him up. The  man is broken, Zelda and not a fit husband for my sister.”

Zelda crossed her arms. “What are you saying, Edward?  That only people with happy childhood deserves happy adulthoods? No, there’s something more here, something you’re not telling me.”

Edward shook  his head, but said, “Yes, you’re right.”

Zelda sat back,  crossed her arms and waited for the truth cake to  do its work.

“You want the truth? Fine, the truth is I never wanted you and Faustus to marry, not ever. I never wanted him to join this family. That way, I could remain the Spellman family’s only star!”

Zelda raised an eyebrow. It was clear just by looking at him that Edward wanted to stop; but the truth cake wouldn’t let  him.

“If you did perform a memory spell, then you already know that he asked for your hand properly twice and twice I refused him. The  fear I had that he would turn into Lord Liam was only partially true and my favorite excuse.   The main reason I kept refusing him was because I knew he loved you, truly loved you and if I could keep him heartbroken and miserable, I knew he wouldn’t focus on his work that much and that made my rise to   power so much easier. Faustus was my mentor, he taught me everything I know. He could have easily been high priest before me. Yet, he wasn’t obsessed with power. He was obsessed with you. It was just a happy accident that the woman he  loved was my sister. Mine to give and mine to take away. When the dark lord asked  me to condemn a marriage so I could have Diana, it was a no-brainer.” 

The room fell silent. Edward had finished explaining  but Zelda couldn’t find her  voice. Suddenly, all she could think of was a long-ago memory of her own. It was of her mother warning both her and Hilda to never to  use the truth cake recipe unless you knew for sure you wanted to know the truth. Zelda never got that, until now. Zelda glared at the man across the table. She no longer saw the boy she grew up with up  or the brother she was so proud of. It was as if she was seeing Edward for the 1st time and oddly, he was resembling the spoiled, selfish brat Faustus wrote about in his journals.

Zelda leaned in. “First of all, Edward, I may be your sister, but I have never belonged to anyone but myself and secondly, you sound  more like Lord Liam than  Faustus ever have!”  

Edward shook his head. “Zelda, you should’ve never married him! The  way he used to look at you-“

“I remember that, and I remembering liking the way he looked at me.” Zelda told her brother. 

“You shouldn’t be blaming me. You should be thanking me.”

Zelda made a face. “Thanking you?”

“Yes. You didn’t marry Faustus for love, but for power. Power you now have because of the curse.”

Zelda stood up. “Are you daft, Edward?! Yes, I wanted power, but not at this price. I never wanted this All the pain, madness, bloodshed and death are on your head!”

“You don’t want power? Maybe that’s for the best because you’re a bad high priestess!”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s face it, Zelda,” Edward said. “Your coven was weak and dying before I showed up to show you the way.”

Zelda could barely  believe what she was hearing. “I did not ask to be shot and I remember I piecing together Hecate’s moon cycle by  myself. All you did was  show me memories that   I don’t even trust!  The 1st memory you showed me was  just to show Faustus as a jerk, which is not even true!”

“Why  are you defending Faustus?” Edward asked.

“Because I love him!”

Edward laughed. “Now, who’s lying, Sister?”

Zelda stood up, walked  near to her brother, took  a fork to cut a slice of cake and ate it. 

“I do love  Faustus Blackwood!” Zelda declared after swallowing her piece of truth cake. “I’ve been in denial about it for years, decades, perhaps even centuries. That’s what being a woman raised in the church of night does to you. It makes you afraid to admit to any type of emotion for fear of being judged as weak.  My only regret is that took your damned curse, his journals and some very painful to  watch memories for me to finally admit it and I swear Edward,  I will get my husband  back. I don’t what I have to do or how long it takes, I will free Faustus from this curse.”

“Ha!” Edward sneered. “You can’t. That’s the 1 thing Lucifer told me is that this curse takes over. Faustus is already gone.”

Zelda shook her head. “You’re wrong. Faustus is fighting the curse, struggling within himself. He has already saved me from the curse, twice. Once when I was alone and then he  saved the entire family.”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Are we done? Hearing about Blackwood as a romantic hero is rather boring.”

Zelda really didn’t care for his tone. “No, I have 2 important questions for you then you can go. First, did Faustus kill you and Diana?”

Zelda didn’t even  blink as her brother answered. “No, it really was engine trouble. Anything else is pure gossip.”

His sister felt intense relief as she went on. “Hilda is engaged. Is her marriage curse too or was that just for me?”

“Hilda will  be fine. True is I never expected her to marry. I did know if Constance ever died, Faustus would be all over you like a cheap suit. Actually, he was all over you before she died.”

Zelda now had all the information she  needed and thank Hecate for that! She couldn’t stand being in her brother’s presence for 1 more moment. “Goodbye, Edward.”

“What? That’s it?” Edward asked, as if he forgot he  just asked to be dismissed 2 minutes ago. “No, thank you brother? I wish to see you again  soon?”

“Edward,” Zelda sighed and said slowly,  “You’re my brother and I’m always going to love and mourn for the boy we lost. But I never be able to trust you and right  now, I don’t know if I’ll want to see you again.”

“Zelda-“

Yet his sister didn’t want to hear it.  Zelda  blew out all the candles and her  brother  vanished. Zelda sat in the dark trying to absorb all the new information. Then she cleaned  up  the kitchen, locked the front door and went to  bed.

 “Elizabeth I ruled England from 1558 to 1603. She never married or  had children, yet her reign was one of the greatest in all of history and truly was known as a golden age.” Mary Wardwell told her 5th period history class at Baxter High. Sabrina usually liked history, it never ceased to amaze her how many historical figures were actually  witches  but today she found it hard to  concentrate. Her birthday was a blast. It was great to have everyone at dinner and then had a stress-free night out with her friends. Sunday was another story. When she came down for  breakfast, she heard Hilda and Ambrose arguing about Ambrose invading Zelda’s privacy. That’s how Sabrina  learned that Zelda had summoned Edward to learn more about the curse. Ambrose had somehow known  about this and had hidden a phone in the kitchen, recording the entire conversation. Despite her scolding, Hilda listened to the recording  intensely as the  kids were. Somethings that Edward said were shocking,  as was Zelda’s  declaration of love. The 3 didn’t need to worry about Zelda catching  them as she spent most of the day in bed. Not that Sabrina could blame her. After a night of shifting though Father Blackwood’s most heart stirring memories, followed immediately by a showdown with your unapologizing brother the very next night must have exhausted the witch who was getting more pregnant by the day. Sabrina sighed, looked out the window and froze. There he was, about  15 feet away from the school, Father  Blackwood!

“I’LL KILL YOU, DAN!”

“NOT IF I KILLL  YOU FIRST!”

The fuss in the hallway stopped Ms. Wardwell’s lecture and Sabrina  looked away from the window for a moment but when she looked back, he was gone. Meanwhile, the noise in the hallway grew louder and louder. More and more fights broke out, with both students  and teachers involved and no knew why. 911 was called and soon Sabrina found herself outside in front of the school, being  hugged by both of her aunts.

“Are you alright, my little lamb?”

“I’m fine, Aunt Hilda,” Sabrina reassured her before turning to her other aunt. “Aunt Z, I saw Father Blackwood.”

“What? When?”

“I was sitting in class, right before all this happened, I looked out the window and I saw him, if only for a spilt second.”

“What’s going on here?” asked an unknown voice. Zelda turned her head to see a woman  beside her. This  woman wore a long,  black trench coat on a top of a light navy business suit. Her  hair was long, curly and so red it looked almost orange. She wore a sliver chain around her neck that held a diamond encrusted letter E.

Zelda blinked. “Excuse me, do we know you?”

“I don’t think so,” the stranger answered. “My name’s Gloria, Gloria Rose. I’m a reporter for the Greendale Gazette and I just trying to get some facts. What about you, young lady? Do you know what is happening?” She spoke with a thick but regal British accent.

Sabrina shrugged. “Not really. Everything was perfectly normal then the yelling started, and then really  bad physical  fights broke out, all out of nowhere.”

“Hmm, that sounds a lot like what happened at the elementary   school a few months back,” Hilda said. “Remember Zelds?”

“Do you think there may be a connection, Ms. Rose?” Zelda once again turned to the reporter, but  she had already  disappeared.

 The woman known as Gloria Rose to some, groaned as soon as she opened the  door and saw her house in a messy state of  decay.  She shut the door, took her coat off and just opened the fridge when she  heard a voice.

“Agatha,  is that you? Get me a water!”

She sighed before she grabbed a bottle of water before she walked into the living room. There she saw that Blackwood was lounging  on the couch, watching some daytime tv show.

Pathetic, she thought.

“Well, I know you’re back there,” Blackwood said.  “The water, give it to me!”

She unscrewed the cap, turned the bottle upside down and emptied all the water on Blackwood.

“Hey!” He jumped up and finally  looked at  the woman he was talking to. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me.” She said    with mock cheerfulness.   “and you’re finally off your ass! Why were you at Baxter High today?”

“I wasn’t”

“Don’t lie to me!” She snapped.   “I just came from there and   surprise, surprise, it was just like the elementary   school and you promised me you would leave innocent children out of this.”

“Mortals are never innocent.” Blackwood  muttered.

“I took you  in last spring because I felt sorry  for the 3 children you had in tow. It’s now November 3rd.  In all the months in between you and your little ball of evil have nothing but attack  2 school for no  reason!”

“My little ball of  evil? It’s called the Eldritich terrors and I would have killed all the Spellmans long ago if my other self stopped me every time.”

“I don’t care. I don’t know the Spellmans, I have no reason to see them hurt. I do care about the promises you made to me. When was the last time you were down in the mines?”

“The mines?”

“Yes, the mines,” she said slowly, as if she was speaking to a small child. “Down in the mines are the gates  of  hell. You know, hell where Lucifer had kidnapped my men, yet again. I swear, talking to you is like talking to a wall!”

“How dare you, a witch, talk to me, a warlock like that! And you’re a half-breed at that!”

The woman glared at him before she took 3 steps forward before she calmly said 1 word, “Bow.”

“Ha!” Blackwood had no intention of doing  so, of course, but as soon as she said the word, Blackwood felt a tingling in his legs and  before he knew what happened, he was on his knees.

“It’s the darndest  thing. Lucifer has been stealing my advisors for so long that I decided to build a house  here in Greendale. I made sure it was built on English soil and the building materials are all from England. The mere fact that I can   have you  on your knees in 1 word  should prove to you that I’m no ordinary woman. That I’m no ordinary witch!” She said. “I blame myself. I made you to comfortable here, you’ve gotten too familiar with my person. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

She put a  hand under his chin and lifted his head, forcing him to look at  her. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

She let him get up then she started  to walk away. “You have 5 days to do something.”

During the next 5 days, the Spellmans tried everything they could think of to find Blackwood. Prudence tried the blood spell that Mambo Marie taught her but all that came of it was to show that he was still in Greendale. On day 3, Zelda  had an appointment with Lilith, so Zelda went to hell, but she was unaware that Gloria Rose was watching her enter the gates of hell from the shadows. After attending to Lilith, Zelda tried to get Lucifer to tell her where Faustus was, but he wouldn’t and  even threatened to hurt the other Spellmans if Zelda didn’t continue as Lilith’s midwife. By Friday, everyone was in Zelda’s office.

“I have the spell down pat, aunt Z,” Ambrose  said, “but to even start, we need Father Blackwood.”

“I may be able  to help with that.” The whole gang looked up to see Gloria  Rose standing in the doorway.

“You’re that reporter we met at Baxter high a few days ago,” Sabrina recalled. “What  are you doing here?”

“I’m not a reporter, child, and I’ve never had been. I only pretend to be from time to time because Blackwood  never tells me what he’s planning.”

“So, you know where Blackwood is?” Asked Ambrose.

Gloria nodded.  “Sure. I took him in  last spring. I mostly felt sorry for the children he had with  him.”

“Agatha and   the twins. Are they okay?” Prudence asked.

“They’re all fine. I  would never let him hurt them.” Gloria said with great compassion before turning towards Zelda  and Hilda. “Anyway, Blackwood made promises to me. Promises that he never delivered on. So, you want him, for some reason  and I don’t. So, I say it’s time to make a deal.” 

“A  deal?” Asked Hilda.

Gloria shrugged. “I already said that Blackwood reneged on his  promises, things I still need help with.”

“Like what,  exactly?” Zelda asked.

“Funny, you asked. I saw you go into hell the night before last and that’s all I need, for someone  to sneak me into hell. I would do  it myself, but Lucifer had kidnapped my men so often I’m on the top of his wanted  list.”

“You’ll have to wait. As  Lilith’s midwife, I only see  her once a month.”

“Fine.”

Ambrose frowned. “If you can be so disloyal to Blackwood and how do we make sure  you’ll be loyal to us?”

“Dear boy, my only loyalty is to my men and  my empire. Do you know that old English oak tree in the Greendale Woods?”

“Yes.”

“Meet me there tomorrow at 2 and I’ll give you Blackwood.”

 “We’ll be there.” Zelda assured her and Gloria left.

“Do you trust you her, Aunt Z?” Sabrina asked.

“Not really  but we’re out of options, and I don’t want Faustus at the curse’s mercy 1 more second more than  necessary.”

 The next afternoon, all the Spellmans found themselves in the woods.

“She’s late,” Ambrose muttered. “She’s not coming.”

“Oh,   ye of little faith.” Gloria came out from behind the old English oak, seemingly out of nowhere. “5 minutes late and I’m not coming? You     children need to learn to trust.”

“Why should we trust you? My father is not here with you.” Said Prudence, backing up Ambrose.

“I never say I would be bringing Blackwood with me. I said I would give you Blackwood and you should trust me because I’m the only witch in all the realms who    can do this.” Gloria turned around, grabbed her E necklace, and closes her eyes. “Winds of England, ancient and new, bring here all the faces they knew. Oak roots big and  strong, tie down Faustus Blackwood so their spell won’t go wrong.” The wind picked up as soon as the spell began. Soon, yelling could be heard, and the wind pushed Agatha and the twins into view. Prudence and Sabrina grabbed them and teleported to the academy then came back. 

“Maybe you go too.” Hilda softly suggested to her sister.

Zelda shook her head. “No way! You may have convinced me to hang back during the spell,  but I am not leaving here without Faustus!”

Speaking of which, Blackwood, carried on the wind, came into view, and slammed him hard onto the ground in front of the oak tree and the roots grew and tied his arms  down so he couldn’t move.

“Traitor!” He hissed when he saw Gloria leaning against the tree and smiled down at him.

“Well, my work here is done.” Gloria started  to walk away but then Zelda stopped her.

“Thank you for doing this. It means so much to me.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be in touch about going to hell.”

Gloria walked away as Ambrose, Sabrina, Prudence and Hilda formed a circle around Blackwood’s body and joined hands while Zelda sat on a tree stump nearby, watching intensely.

“Spellmans!” hissed Blackwood.

“Ignore him.” Ambrose advised. “Just close your eyes and focus on the spell.” Ambrose said as  he did the same.  “Insanity above, real  man below, we forgive  what we now know. Be it signed by the moon or the sun, now let the curse be undone!”

Nothing happened except that Blackwood was slowly getting himself   loose from the roots.

Ambrose tried the spell  again and still nothing. “It’s not working.”

“Look!” Prudence pointed to where her father’s  nose was bleeding. “Something is happening. Let’s try again.”

As they did, Zelda pleaded. “Please Faustus, return to me!”

As the 3rd attempt wound down, Blackwood freed  himself but before he could stand up, a  bright white light surrounding him. The Spellmans all jumped back. When the light bubble died away, there was no longer 1 Faustus Blackwood…there were 2. They were 15 feet apart. 1 was well-groomed and complete with his signature cane, the other only wore a leather jacket over rags. They seemed both dazed and they were both looking around.

“Spellmans!” The ragged one  hissed and walked toward them but was tackled  by the well-groomed one.

“You!” growled the well-groomed one and started to punch the man under  him. “Who’s the weak one  now? Hmm? “Who’s the weak one  now?” Faustus started to fade away, as if he was going teleport.

“Faustus!” Zelda ran to him and took hold  of him before they teleported together. A moment later, Zelda and Faustus were seated in hell’s dining hall with Lucifer. 

Lucifer smiled smugly at Zelda. “You broke the spell! A lot sooner than expected.”

“This has   nothing to do with you!”

“On the contrary, Lilith gave the mark of Cain to the other Blackwood, so I’ll just take this back.”   Lucifer just waved his hand over Faustus’s wrist and the mark was gone.

“I have 2 requests.” Faustus finally spoke. “I wish to be placed under house arrest.”

“Fine,” Lucifer said.  “Husband and wife should be together, so you’ll be grounded to the Spellman house.”

“No! Not there! Anywhere  but  there!”

His wife turned to him. “Faustus!”

“I’m sorry, Zelda.  I don’t want to   hurt anyone anymore and I don’t trust  myself. Especially not with you and our baby, dearest. I need to be alone, completely  alone.”

“Well, that’s not going  to happen.” Lucifer muttered, bored. “What else do you want?”

“Take my magic.”

“All of it?” Zelda asked.

“Yes. I can’t hurt people with power I no longer have.”

“Done.” Lucifer snapped  his fingers and Zelda found herself at home.  Sitting on the stairway in the front parlor. Faustus  was beside her,  rocking himself and crying. It unsettled Zelda, in all their years together, she had never seen him cry, but that didn’t stop her from putting an arm around him and rocking with him. “Shhh, it’s okay. We’re together now.”

#the chilling tales of sabrina #caoz #chapter 4 #zelda spellman #faustus blackwood #spellwood #hilda spellman #ambrose spellman #sabrina spellman #prudence blackwood #edward spellman #please leave comments #PLEASE LIKE AND REBLOG

[thatonemsft15]

Knbvdaychallenge2020

Day 3 - Flowers/You’re beautiful, you know that?

Summary: Riko has self-doubts. There’s nothing Hyuuga has ever doubted about her (besides her cooking).

Relationship: Aida Riko/Hyuuga Junpei

Author’s Note: I know I’m late, but my fics wanted to cause trouble and end up longer than I intended, so I’m hecticly trying to get through them. This is the first one I was able to finish, and my first time ever posting a fic for Kuroko no Basket. Hope you guys like it!

Prompts by @vanilla-daydreams and @theuglycrybaby. Thank you guys so much for this little fandom boost!

Read it on AO3

Hyuuga is worried.

It’s not a particularly new feeling. He was worried when Kiyoshi got injured. He was worried they wouldn’t get any new recruits when their second year started. He’s been in a non-stop state of worry over losing his damn mind since they did get new recruits, and they all turned out to be little shits he regularly wants to beat the crap out of.

He’s never been worried about Aida Riko.

The toxic waste she calls food, yes, (Kagami’s been helping in that regard, so maybe he won’t have to risk dying just to spare her feelings anymore) but never Riko herself. Riko has only ever been strong, it’s one thing he’s always been able to count on, but earlier today she looked…frail.

Not pale, not ill, not malnourished. Hyuuga has seen her be all of those things at one point or another, but her resolve never once wavered. The strength of her mind, her character, everything that makes up the Riko he fears, admires, and lo—respects, seemed to have vanished. The Riko of today looked as if saying one wrong thing to her could shatter her into pieces.

So yeah, he’s worried. Even more so when he walks into their fifth class—ten minutes late because he had to speak with another teacher about a failed assignment—to find her usual seat empty. He gets scolded by their English teacher, and informed of what pages of grammar exercises to complete for the first half of class, before taking his usual seat by Koganei and Mitobe.

“Where’s Riko?” Hyuuga asks gruffly.

Koganei shrugs, brows furrowed in concentration. English has always been his worst subject.

Hyuuga clenches his jaw. He doesn’t know how to deal with things like this. It’s one of those situations that makes him wish he were more like Kiyoshi.

Kiyoshi’s an instigating bastard that likes to pretend he’s an airhead, but he always seems to know what people need. Hyuuga has never been good with other people—he’s not even sure how he’s managed to keep Izuki as a friend for so many years. He doesn’t even know how to ask someone what’s wrong without sounding like a dick.

Kiyoshi does.

Should he make an excuse to leave class and go find her?

Kiyoshi would.

What does Riko do when she’s upset? Where would she go?

Kiyoshi probably knows stuff like that.

He’s spent so much time trying to avoid certain aspects of his relationship with Riko that he’s realizing he may have neglected some very important other ones.

Koganei’s distraught voice breaks him out of his downward spiral.

“Rinn, for the last time, I don’t need your help. I’m gonna figure it—what?” Hyuuga leans over, catching Mitobe as he cuts Koga off with a serious of flustered gestures and a melancholy expression. “Oh.Oh.”

Koganei turns to him then, eyes somber.

Hyuuga feels a twinge of panic crawl up his spine. “What?”

“Mitobe says he might know where Riko is.”

He gives Koganei a ‘go on’ look, but the cat-mouthed boy just looks uncomfortable, shifting in his seat. Hyuuga promptly loses his patience.

“Am I gonna have to beat it out of you?”

He can tell Koganei wants to roll his eyes, but meets him with a serious expression instead.

“He said she’s probably at her mom’s grave.”

Hyuuga is silent and still for what feels like an impossibly long time. “Her mom’s…dead?”

Koganei turns to Mitobe, translating his ‘sign language’. “Yeah, a few years ago today.”

Hyuuga…doesn’t understand. Why wouldn’t he know something like this?

“She told you this?”

“No, he was looking up Kagetora-san and found articles from that year.”

Hyuuga leans back in his seat, mind wandering. He hasn’t opened his workbook, hasn’t even unzipped his bag.

He’s never asked Riko about her family. They’ve talked about her dad, of course, ever since Hyuuga found out who he was, but she’s never mentioned her mother.

Kiyoshi would know about Riko’s mom, because he would have asked. He’d know where to find her. He’d know how to console her.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, quickly gathering his bag. Mitobe and Koganei peer up at him, startled.

He ignores them, and their teacher’s disgruntled call of “Hyuuga-san!”, rushing out of the classroom. He doesn’t stop for anyone who calls out to him on his way out of the building, his thoughts swirling around and taunting him.

If Kiyoshi were here, he wouldn’t have let her out of his sight until he figured out the problem, and tried one of his patented Kiyoshi fix-it disasters that somehow always end up working.

If Kiyoshi were here, she wouldn’t have had to deal with this on her own.

If Kiyoshi were here…Hyuuga clenches his fists.

Sometimes, he feels like he’s the one who should’ve gone to America.

Sometimes, he wishes Kiyoshi was the one in love with Riko.

*****

“Romantic feelings toward Riko? Oh no, not at all. Don’t get me wrong, I love her. I love you. You guys are my best friends.”

“Oh. Thanks, I guess?”

“Also, I’m very gay.”

Hyuuga spits out his drink. Kiyoshi just laughs, clapping him on the back and handing him a napkin.

*****

Hyuuga finds her fairly easily. He always does.

It took less five minutes to find an article that mentioned which cemetery Riko’s mom is buried in, and with only one stop on the way, the trip was only about forty minutes in total. Upon arriving to the ornate cemetery gates, he’d spotted a head of short, caramel colored hair and their school uniform almost immediately, way up on one of the highest points of the lot.

He scales the hill, approaching a large, grey marble headstone cautiously, making just enough noise to alert Riko of his presence. He stops a few feet away from where she’s sitting with her knees hugged to her chest.

She doesn’t turn to face him, but addresses him all the same. “Hi Hyuuga.”

“How’d you know it was me?” He responds, softly for once.

“I saw you walking up to the gate.” Riko’s voice sounds thick with emotion. Grief.

He nods. Without another word, he bends down to gingerly place the bundle of flowers against the stone. He sits himself down down by Riko, close enough for comfort, but far enough not to crowd her space.

“Lilies?”

“For remembrance.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

Hyuuga shakes his head. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

Riko laughs weakly. “How could you have? It’s not like I go around broadcasting it.”

He wants to argue that he could’ve paid better attention, even done the slightest bit of research on her father like Mitobe apparently did, but this isn’t about him.

“She was a beautiful woman.” He acknowledges the photo resting against the stone. It’s of Riko’s father and a short-haired woman smiling with a smaller Riko in her arms.

“She was, wasn’t she? She was an amazing mom. Always there for me, encouraging me to do or be whatever made me feel best. Driven, too. She was well on her way to becoming one of the best family lawyers in Tokyo. My dad was obsessed with her.” Riko laughs. Hyuuga can definitely imagine that. “It was always such a nice thing to witness, two people loving each other as much as they did.”

They sit in silence for a few moments. There’s a gentle breeze in the air, and the wafting smell of the lilies he brought permeates the air around them.

“Sometimes I think I’ll never have what they had.”

“Why not?”

“Most guys are afraid of girls like me, like my mom. Ones who are intelligent, ambitious, headstrong,” Riko plucks at her t-shirt. “Who look like thirteen year old boys without a skirt and hair clip. And the boys who aren’t afraid of girls like me are usually weirdos like my dad.” She shivers, wrapping her arms around her legs again.

Hyuuga gazes at her side profile. There’s so many things he wants to say, but he’s not sure if he should say any of them at all, if he even can.

He thinks about how they met. How she helped them form the team that changed all of their lives for the better. He thinks of Saturday afternoons spent shopping, after school study sessions, her father’s knowing glare.

How she trusts him to cut her hair.

Of ordering food and knowing each other’s preferences.

Shared smiles, lingering eye contact, brief touches.

He thinks of everything he knows about her, everything he doesn’t, and how he’s going to bring that gap. He thinks and thinks and thinks, but he isn’t saying anything, and he knows that he has to say something.

His heart races. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Riko scoffs. “Are too.”

Hyuuga nods, because yeah, he is, but that’s not what he meant. “Well yeah, obviously I’m afraid of you. You’re a scary ass coach, but,” He takes a deep, shaky breath, and decides to follow through. “I’m more afraid of losing you as a friend than anything else. Any guy worth a damn would feel the same.”

Riko looks at him then, really looks at him. As if she’s doing one of her scans. He tries not to swallow nervously. He’s getting closer and closer to confession territory. After a painfully long and intense stare down, she gives him a small, barely there smile.

“You don’t have to be afraid of that.” Riko stands, brushing the dirt and grass off of her knee high socks and skirt. “Thank you, for bringing the flowers. And for being here.”

There’s no place I’d rather be.

“No problem.”

On the walk home, there’s a river bank with stone ledges. Riko trots ahead of him, climbing up on the ledge to walk across like a tightrope.

The sun is setting, and it casts a brilliant light around them, dancing off of the water. Riko leans her head back as she walks, smiling softly with the sunlight shining behind her like a halo. Hyuuga blushes.

He isn’t Kiyoshi. He never will be, doesn’t want to be, but there are certain things he can appreciate about the sneaky bastard.

Kiyoshi would tell her how he feels.

“For the record, I don’t think you look like a thirteen year old boy, ever.” He’s ashamed to say he mumbles the last part, cheeks flaming and facing away from Riko. “I think you’re beautiful.”

It’s still not a confession, but it’s about as much as he can take for the day, and piggybacking off of her feelings over her deceased mother just feels wrong. It’s enough for him to try and assuage any lingering doubts she has about herself.

When he finally works up the courage to face her again, Riko is peering at him with a curious expression. He’s more interested in the tinted color of her cheeks, though, and how her eyes seem to say what neither of them could probably ever manage.

But when she hops down from the ledge, fitting herself into his personal space and letting their hands graze each other lightly, he knows that nothing really needs to be said.

(Except maybe a thank you to Kiyoshi, for entangling himself into Hyuuga’s life so thoroughly that he can use him as a comforting standard, but he’ll die before ever letting Kiyoshi know about that.)

#knbvdaychallenge2020 #knb #hyuuga junpei #aida riko #hyuuga x riko #knb fanfiction #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basuke

[sunmoonandeddie]

little ballerina (13/16)

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 3,687

summary: After The Snap was reversed and the world went back to normal, Natasha Romanov had one request of her team: to infiltrate and destroy the Red Room.

chapter warnings: Swearing

masterlist

a/n: This chapter made me really sad, I can’t lie.  Lemme know what you think!

After that weekend, Peter had rode with you and Happy to the compound to drop you off first before being taken back to MIT.  He pulled you in close, kissing your forehead and whispering that he'd be home soon and that he'd FaceTime you that night.

The other Avengers though the tears in your eyes were just from having to say goodbye to him once again.

You ignored Nat and Wanda as they tried to ask how the weekend went, getting into the elevator and locking yourself in your room. You didn't come down for Sunday dinner, and when Peter called you that night, you let it go to voicemail. He tried calling three more times, eventually giving up and shooting you a few text messages.

Peter: Hey, you didn't answer my FaceTime.  Are you okay?

Peter: Angel?

Peter: I'm gonna guess that you fell asleep or that you're hanging out with Wanda or Nat or Bucky.

Peter: I'll probably be up for a while, so feel free to call when you get this.

You hated this.  You hated how much it hurt just to ignore his calls and text messages.  You hated how he made you feel safe and warm.  He made you soft.  Before him, you weren't so weak.  He made your knees buckle and your hands sweat.  Your mouth got all dry.

You hated that he made you fall in love with him.

It was going to have to end.  You couldn't do your job and protect yourself and the others if you were so distracted by curly brown hair and big chocolate eyes.  If you were in the middle of a mission, you couldn't be worrying about whether or not he specifically would be okay.  It made the rest of the team more vulnerable if you were focused on Peter.

It made you the weak link, and weak links got destroyed.

That night, you had curled up under the sheets and taken two melatonin just like every other night, but sleep never came.  You laid wide awake in your bed, your phone going off with two text messages at almost four in the morning.

Peter: Hey, angel, I'm going to bed.

Peter: I'll talk to you in the morning, okay?  Love you.

You knew that he didn't mean it like that, but that simple little 'love you' made your heart soar.  Tossing your phone to the end of the bed, you burrowed down further under the blankets as you did your best to keep yourself from crying.  You had done okay so far, but those two words got to you.

When the tears started, they didn't stop until the sun rose over the horizon and filled your room with light.  Sniffling, you shut off your alarm.  There was no way you were getting out of bed.  You had locked the door the night before and had no intention of letting anyone in.

Granted, F.R.I.D.A.Y. could easily unlock your door for whoever, considering that the lock was electronic, but that was besides the point.  You didn't think that anyone would force their way in.

At about eight, you got another round of text messages.  Your phone was going off from the end of the bed and you let out a loud groan as you reached blindly for it.  You squinted against the brightness as you brought it to your face, pushing your hair back.

Peter: Good morning, angel :)

Peter: I have class at ten, if you wanna FaceTime before

Peter: Or it can wait until tonight

Peter: Whatever you want

Part of you wondered how long it would be before Peter would stop trying.  You guessed it could be as little as a week or as long as two months.  After all, the two of you had built up a routine and little habits that would be hard to break.  You had to be the strong one and made sure it happened though.

You didn't show up to your daily gym date with Bucky and you kind of expected the knock on your door that came at almost half past ten.

"Y/N?  You okay?" Bucky called out from behind the door, his voice muffled.

"Yeah, I'm good," you said, clutching the covers closer around you.  "Just not feeling very good."

"Do you want me to get a doctor?"

Fuck.  Within five minutes, Bucky could have one of the resident doctors in your room to see if you were actually sick.  "No!" You called back quickly, wincing as you realized how suspicious it sounded.  "I... I just need to sleep it off."

There was a long pause and you heard him sigh.  "Fine.  I'll be back to check on you later."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., please close the windows," you said, watching the room grow dark around you as the automated window covers came down.  The stars that Peter had put up on your ceiling those few months ago were glowing brightly in the newfound darkness.  You felt another round of tears coming and you pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes to try to hold them back.  "Stupid," you muttered angrily, sniffling pathetically.  "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

You had no idea how long you had stared at those stars before Bucky came back to check on you, this time with Natasha in tow.

"Y/N?" Nat called, knocking softly as she leaned against the door.  "Bucky said you weren't feeling well.  Can I come in?"

"No."

She frowned up at Bucky on the other side, confused as to why you were being this way.  For one, you hadn't shown any signs of being sick before, and F.R.I.D.A.Y. hadn't reported anything to the medical bay when the A.I. had scanned you to take your vitals that morning.  It was a protocol that Tony had programmed in just a year before so that it was easier for each member of the team to keep themselves in good health.  The scan let them know ahead of time if their immune systems were down and the best way to prevent sickness.  If it was too late and they were already sick, the scan that got sent to the medical bay would be marked to be looked over by a human doctor.

Bucky leaned his head against the door frame.  "Y/N, what's going on?"

"I told you, I'm not feeling well."

"Really?  Because F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn't find anything in her scan this morning," he retorted, frowning at Natasha.  The two of them felt like parents dealing with a rebellious child and, in a way, they were.  They were the ones who looked after you the most, besides Peter.

Fuck.  You had forgotten about F.R.I.D.A.Y.  when you had decided to play sick.  The A.I. made that virtually impossible.  "Can I please just be alone?" You finally asked, looking up at the ceiling.  "I just...  I just need a day or two."

"Okay," Natasha conceded as she rested her hand against your door.  "But we're here for you okay?  No matter what's going on."

You didn't reply, rolling over onto your side to stare at the wall.  What you didn't know was that Natasha and Bucky were already heading for Tony, ordering him to get Peter on the phone.

He picked up within the first ring, his hello being interrupted as Nat asked, "Peter, have you heard from Y/N?"

Peter, all the way at MIT, stopped in his tracks as he was walking towards his apartment complex.  "Actually, no.  She never answered my FaceTime last night or my, my texts today.  Is she okay?  Do I need to come back?"

Sensing how anxious he was starting to get, Natasha replied quickly, "No!  No, she's in her room here.  She's okay, just a little under the weather.  I think it might be good if we have Brenda come tomorrow, though."

He sighed a little as he looked around him, watching the other students mill about.  His building was popular among students, since it was in a close proximity to campus and not outrageously priced.  "Will you tell me when she gets better?  Or if she gets worse?  I'm...  I'm worried."

"Of course," Nat said.  Before hanging up, she asked, "Did anything happen in New York this weekend?  Did she get freaked out or something?"

"Other than being nervous about meeting Aunt May, no."  He paused, trying to think of all that had happened that weekend.  "It did get a little weird Saturday morning.  She started getting all fidgety and nervous.  She...  She seemed like her mind was somewhere else."

The Russian made a mental note of it as the two of them said their goodbyes and hung up.  What could've happened Saturday morning that would've freaked her out?

You made it two more days before the others literally broke down your door.  You had stayed in your room the entire time, refusing to come out for Brenda or anything else.  You hadn't eaten, hadn't showered, nothing.  You also hadn't answered Peter's texts and calls, despite the fact that they were coming even more frequently now that he had realized that something was wrong.

You had turned off your phone and tossed it to the ground around four in the afternoon on the second day.

Sitting up in shock as the door opened, you watched as Bucky, Steve, Natasha, Wanda, and Tony had all stormed in.  They surrounded the bed and made it impossible for you to get out.  "What the hell?" You demanded, your voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Y/N, what the fuck is going on?" Wanda asked, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared down at you.  You knew that beyond her hard expression, she was extremely upset.  The past few months, you had become like a little sister to her, and she'd be damned if you fucked that up now.

You narrowed your e/c eyes at the people in front of you, pulling yourself into a sitting position.  "Nothing is wrong!"

"Then why haven't you showered in three days?  Or eaten?" Steve asked, motioning to how greasy your hair was.  At just the mention of food, your stomach started grumbling.  "You haven't come out of your room or even talked to Peter, for heaven's sake."

Natasha seemed to be on the verge of tears as she watched you.  "Y/N, please talk to us.  We're your family."

Tony was watching you quietly, though it was clear that he was fuming on the inside.  You don't think you had ever seen him look at you with that expression.

Bucky was watching you quietly from where he stood slightly behind Steve.  "Wanda.  Do it."

Before you could even protest, you felt Wanda's magic probing your brain and you were taken back to that Saturday morning in Queens.  You gasped, the memory feeling like a wave washing over you.

"Good morning," you yawned as you took the coffee that Aunt May was passing you.

Her eyes flicked down to the shirt you were wearing, a smirk on her lips.  "Nice shirt."

Your face felt hot as you glanced down at the Midtown Science shirt you had thrown on the night before.  "Sorry, I just always sleep in his shirts."

Aunt May seemed amused by this as she glanced at you.  "Even at the compound?"  When you nodded, she continued on as if it were the most normal thing, handing you the coffee creamer as she did.  "Don't worry.  I'm not upset."  She flipped an omelette, and you nodded the little bit of egg that slipped down the side of the skillet.  "I haven't seen Peter this happy in a long time.  You two make a good couple."

The coffee you choked on was just as hot in your memory as it had been in real life.  "We're not—We're just friends.  Not a couple."

The older woman looked at you in confusion as she turned her attention from the omelette she had just slipped onto a plate to you, picking up her coffee.   "Really?  I thought you..."  She frowned as she sipped at her coffee, the wedding ring she still wore still glinting in the light.  "With the way Peter talks about you, I just thought...  Nevermind."

You felt yourself going through all the emotions you had gone through that morning, ending with the realization that you were in love with Peter.  It filled you with both unbridled giddiness and gut wrenching dread.

Peter came up behind you in the memory and wrapped his arms around you, murmuring a good morning and kissing your cheek.

"I—I need to go to the bathroom," you sputtered, running down the hallway and locking yourself in.

It wasn't until you had come to the conclusion in the memory that you needed to protect Peter from yourself that you were able to force Wanda from your mind.  As you snapped back to reality, you jumped out of bed and grabbed the closest thing to you—a snow globe of New York City that Peter had gotten you—and threw it at her.  "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" You screamed, tears screaming down your cheeks as the others looked at you in shock.

Wanda had ducked in time and she didn't even bother to look at the broken glass and puddle of glittery water that was by her feet.  Her gaze didn't waver from where you stood.  She had so much pity in her eyes that it made you want to scream and throw something else at her.  "Oh, Y/N...  Is that what this is about?"

You shook your head in disbelief, not even acknowledging that you were full on sobbing at this point.  Your hands were shaking and you felt hot.  "Get the fuck out of my room!"  You shouted, balling your hands into fists at your side.  You were about to throw the alarm clock when they started to file out.  You hated the way they looked at you as they left.

Like you were the monster you had known you were the whole time.

As soon as they were gone and the door had shut behind them, you rushed to the broken snow globe.  The glass shards pierced your skin as you picked them up, trying to fit them back together.  Your blood was dripping into the glitter water on the floor, turning it a soft pink shade.  When you realized that you weren't going to be able to fix the globe, you grabbed the base, which still had the mini New York skyline intact, and held it to your chest as you cried.

It was about an hour later that you heard your bedroom door open and close with a soft click, and you still hadn't left your spot on the floor.  Your tears had dried on your cheeks, leaving sticky trails and red, puffy eyes.

Natasha kneeled in front of you, pushing your hair back gently.  "We should get you in the shower, malen'kiy pauk."  Her nose wrinkled as she felt how greasy your hair was.

You knew that she was trying to joke a little with you in order to get you to lighten up, but you just weren't in the mood.  You looked down at your hands, covered in cuts that had started to scab over and dried blood.

At least it was yours and not someone else's.

"How about a bath?"  She tilted your chip up, getting you to meet her eyes.  "I'll even wash your hair for you, as long as you get in the bath."

You nodded, and she immediately called out to F.R.I.D.A.Y. to start running a bath before helping you stand.

As you sunk into the hot water, you couldn't help the hum of satisfaction that rumbled in your throat.  It felt so damn good.  Nat had a cup in her hand and set to work.  She poured water over your head, wetting your hair before she lathered up a decent amount of shampoo on your head.  You kept your eyes shut tightly as she began to rinse it.

"It's okay to be in love with someone."

Your eyes popped open and you gasped as soap got in it, whimpering as you covered your eye.  Natasha took your hand down, ordering you to open your eye so that she could trickle clean water in so that the soap would wash away.  Even though it hurt like a bitch, it worked when you eventually listened to her.

"As I was saying," she murmured, finishing rinsing your hair of shampoo.  "I know that loving someone can be a scary thing, especially if you're someone like us."

Fucking Wanda had to go and run her giant ass mouth.  You were going to kill her when you got out.  This was exactly why you didn't want everyone to know.  Because then all the Avengers would be up in your business, spewing some kind of Hallmark card, Lifetime movie bullshit about how everyone deserved a happy ending.

You closed your eyes as Nat ran the conditioner through your hair, taking care to get it all the way to the ends.  "People like us...  We don't usually get happy endings.  So when you find someone that you can have that with, you should hold on and never let go."

"Peter deserves better," you whispered, your voice cracking a little as you looked down at the soapy water.  Your knees had been pulled up to your chest.

You could almost feel Natasha rolling her eyes as she passed you the face wash, making sure that you took the time do actually do it.  "You're worth more than you think, Y/N.  You might be a little bit bent, but you're not broken."  She began to wash out the conditioner as you splashed water on your face to get the face wash off.  "You have a big heart and you... you love that boy."  Her hands stilled as she sat there looking at you.  "Peter deserves someone who loves him and will give him the world and that's you.  You're what he deserves and you deserve him.  Stop fighting it because you're scared."

"What if I hurt him?"

She bit her lip, her eyes concentrated on your hair as she went back to rinsing.  "Hurt happens in relationships occasionally.  It's normal."  She shrugged as she finished rinsing and sat back just so she could sit there and talk to you.  "In our line of work, sometimes it's more inevitable.  But what really matters is how you handle it.  If you bottle it all up until you explode, you'll never be happy.  But if you communicate and let others help you, it becomes a lot easier."  She patted your shoulder, standing up and heading for the door.  "Dinner's ready when you get out of the bath."

You leaned back against the back of the huge tub, sinking down until the only part of you above water was your nose and your eyes.  You wanted to believe that you could love Peter without hurting him, but you knew it was impossible.  Not only could you be incredibly volatile, but you could never give him children, a family.  And he deserved that.

You ended up going downstairs for dinner after getting out of the bath, your hair still wet as you stepped out of the elevator.  The smell of hot Mexican food hit your nose and you turned to look at the others.  Bucky and Nat seemed to have triumphant smirks on their faces as you grabbed a plate and loaded it up.

As you were standing in the kitchen, you heard someone clear their throat and you turned around to see Tony standing there.  "I'm upset with you," he said, getting straight to the point.  You swallowed, avoiding his eyes as he continued to speak.  "I care about Peter.  A lot.  And what you're doing is hurting him."  The billionaire had his arms over his chest as he kept his eyes narrowed on you like a hawk watching it's prey.  "Did you know that he's called me no less than seventeen times in the past three days just to ask how you're doing and if you've come out of your room?  That's not counting the text messages or however many other texts and calls everyone else has gotten."  He pinched the bridge of his nose, as though trying to ward off a migraine.  "I had to convince him not to drop everything to come back here.  Just to make sure that you were okay."

"I—"

Tony raised his hand, effectively silencing you.  "I get it, this whole 'I'm a monster who can't love anyone' bullshit.  I've been there.  But let me tell you, it's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard of."  You kept your eyes down, not really sure you'd be able to keep yourself from crying if you looked up.  "That self doubt shit kept too many of those people," he said as he pointed out towards the living room, "apart for too long.  Bruce and Natasha didn't get together until after the Infinity War because they both believed themselves to be too monstrous.  I didn't believe I was good enough for Pepper and I still don't.  But I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to be."

Your hands gripped the counter as you stood there, letting Tony say whatever he needed to say.

"You and Peter would be great together and you know this.  You take care of each other and push each other to be the best that you can be."  You moved to say something, but once again, he interrupted you, "I'm not going to tell him how you feel, but I think you should.  I think it's really fucking stupid of you to push him away like this just because you're scared."

You sat there in the kitchen as he walked away, his words ringing in your ears as you shut your eyes tight.  You wanted to believe him, just like you wanted to believe Natasha.  But the realistic part of you said that you needed to stay away, and that's just what you were going to do.

#peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic

[borusawa]

Press Play

❀ Pairings   BoruSara

❀ Rating  T

❀ Beta-reader @ss-tyytyy (thank you for all the much-appreciated support.)

❀ Word Count 1,077

❀ A/N I told everyone I wasn’t going to post anything but I’m a clown and here I am. This is small and simple just to celebrate my OTP with the thing I know how to write the best *shameless fluff*.

❀ BoruSara Week Day 5: Little Moments | Social Media  ❀

@borusarafics

Video games were their new weekend playdate since the day Sarada gave it a try and decided that it could be a pleasant activity. Growing up was hard on their friendship—as jounins, they barely ever had missions together, constantly being assigned with random teams and not meeting each other as often as they would like. In a lack of better options,  those Saturday afternoons with video games were all they had left. 

It was then that Sarada learned—maybe a little too late—that she needed him. She missed every extent of his being on a daily basis, even his underwhelming antics and the annoying habits she grew used to. Foremost, she missed his eyes. Sarada laughed loud to his stupid jokes and no one else's because she liked to see his blue orbs sparkling in her direction whenever she did so.

Those same eyes were now scanning her face.

“Would you please stop laughing? I'm mourning here." Boruto tried to maintain composure but the sound of her sweet laugh was simply too much. He smiled. He knew that this version of her was only for him.

Sarada slipped her glasses back in place after wiping away a tear of joy. "But you just said the funniest thing, not my fault."

"You're a heartless monster." He sighed.

"I'm not!" She straightened her back on the couch.

"So how is the fact that I broke my video game so amusing for you?"

Sarada smirked. "Because I'm a heartless monster." Boruto shrugged it off while he did his best to tie the cables behind her tv monitor; Sarada kept dispersing her giggles around the room. “I just can’t believe that you, of all people, let it fall from the top of a building, that’s all.”

Boruto finally placed the last cable, hoping for it to work. He took a step back and pressed the start button. “I was distracted.”

“What could possibly distract you that much?” She narrowed her eyes and smiled.

“The thought that I was going to see the most beautiful girl I know smiling at me.” He smirked and peeked over his shoulder to find an embarrassed Sarada blushing all over.

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes so hard that she thought they wouldn’t come back. “Do you know I hate you? I hate you.”

The music of the video game started and Boruto took his place by her side again. “So I start with one point against zero.”

“What do you get one point for?”

“Because I fixed the video game and made you blush. I mean, that must count for something.”

“I don’t know why I let you enter my house.”

He pressed play. 

His words were repeating in her mind, even if they were only a joke. She appreciated the thought that he wanted to see her smile as much as she wanted to see him; she didn’t want to be the only one to care. For a long time, Sarada reasoned with herself that they shared a strong bond, therefore, it was at least natural for her to enjoy his antics. She swore that friendship was a plausible excuse for the number of times she caught herself staring directly into his eyes and getting lost. Nevertheless, nothing explained why she wanted so badly for him to feel the same. Was she lying to herself?

Sarada had the impression that he somehow enjoyed her company just as much as she enjoyed his; she brushed away the worries, holding onto that. Even so, it was not easy to fight against the blush that always insisted to appear whenever she noticed the way he looked softly at her, almost like he intended to say something. He always smirked when she looked away. Boruto knew what that meant; Sarada refused to think about it.

However, every Saturday night after he left,  she would unavoidably feel more lonely than she did the whole week of getting home to empty rooms. Maybe she should’ve kept living with her parents. Maybe he should stay.

"You okay?" His voice woke her up from a daydream and her eyes snapped to his face. Maybe thinking about life while playing video games was not a good strategy because when she came to herself the third round was over and she had lost the game. "This round was too easy. Is there something wrong?"

Sarada shook her head. "No."

"Are you sure?" Boruto insisted.

"Yes, I'm okay." She answered with a soft smile.

Subtle silence settled when Boruto said the words she didn’t want to hear. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

Neither of them moved an inch.

“Boruto?” His eyes locked on hers; she gently touched his arm. “I want you to stay.”

He grinned. “I guess I can stay for another round if you want it so bad.”

“No.” Sarada avoided his glare and took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to ever go.”

They kept quietly sitting on the couch, eyes permanently on each other's for a long time, time enough for the first stars appear in the sky. He didn’t want to go. Boruto tried not to overthink about how much her absence had been noticed but it didn't matter how much he tried—a full room was empty if Sarada wasn't there. Knowing she was still willing to share her little free time with him was enough to keep his feelings at ease. Oftentimes, after leaving, he’d think about excuses to come back, never figuring out any. It was frustrating; he wanted to be by her side and tell her that but how?

Nothing could’ve prepared Boruto for the fact that Sarada also wanted him to stay.

“I never wanted to leave.”

Boruto raised his hand and caressed her face. He was hesitating; she decided to pretend it couldn't be for what she thought it was. It became undeniable once he started to lean in.

The sound of accelerated heartbeats was the melody that played around the room when she leaned in his direction as well. It was a simple touch of lips at first and it became exhilarating as seconds passed. 

They were only playing and it was supposed to be a day like any other but everything changed at the moment when they finally kissed and their feelings were out in the open. If felt good, exciting. It was a small moment that represented the beginning of something great. God, she loved video games.

#BorusaraWeek2019 #borusarafics #borusara #borutoxsarada #sarada uchiha #minefanficfluff #borusaraweek19 #bsaweek19

[mattygraygubler]

our campus: chapter 10 (tom holland fic)

summary: tom and reader go to the same college and y/n is tasked with being his tutor, they don’t really get along at first (because i love reader and tom hating each other trope)

warnings: drinking, masterbation, kissing, mentions of sex

word count: 3k

a/n: this turned me on lmao

for a list of characters click here

to be added to the tag list send me an ask !

series masterlist

masterlist

✰✰✰✰✰

“Walk of shame, huh?” Harrison asked as Tom walked into the room the next morning. 

“Shut up, it wasn’t like that.” He replied, flopping on his bed. 

“So you didn’t shag?” 

“No, bro. Not even close.” 

“What’d you do all night then?” Harrison asked. 

“Watched a movie then fell asleep.” 

“Ah… In her bed?” 

“Yeah, why?” Tom replied defensively. 

“Bro. You’re whipped and you haven’t even slept together yet.” 

“Whatever. Where’s Emily?”

“Showering. She should be out soon.” Harrison replied as he made his bed. 

“Haz.” Tom said with a sigh. “You’re right.” 

“I usually am. About what?” 

“I’m obsessed with her, and she could not be less interested in me. She’s just fucking with me at this point, she didn’t wear pants to bed purposefully to fuck with me.” Harrison whistled. 

“Maybe she’s fucking with you or maybe she’s flirting with you.”

“There’s no way. She’s made it very clear she could not be less interested.” 

“Then make her fall in love with you.” Harrison said. 

“How am I supposed to do that?” 

“Dunno. Be yourself? Actually that won’t work, be someone else.” 

“You know, you really suck at this advice thing.” Tom replied. “I need some sleep.” He said and pulled his comforter over him as Emily walked out of the bathroom. 

“I owe you ten bucks babe,” Harrison said and kissed her forehead.

“They didn’t fuck?” She asked. Harrison shook his head. “Told you.” She said with a smirk. 

✰✰✰✰✰

Once classes started up again, Friday rolled around fast. You and Tom were back to being good friends, no awkwardness and no mention of the kiss whatsoever. 

He came over Friday to study again, rather than going all the way over to hlab. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked about halfway through the session. It was clear something was bothering him. 

“Just stressed.” Tom replied and ran a hand through his curly hair. 

“About what? You’re doing well in all your classes.” 

“Yeah… I’m playing Romeo in Romeo and Juliet and I’m having trouble memorizing my lines. Usually it’s really easy for me, but all this Shakespeare is just giving me a really hard time.” 

You closed your laptop, his laptop, and the surrounding books and pushed them to the side of the bed. 

“What are you doing?” He asked. 

“We’re in a good place, I think we can stop for the night. Where’s your script?” He grabbed it out of his bag and handed it to you. 

“Tell me,” you said, flipping through the script. “Which scene is giving you the most trouble?” He sighed and grabbed the script, flipping to one of the last scenes in the play. 

“It’s Romeo’s last monologue. I just can’t get my head into it. My true love has never died, I can’t relate to him at all.” 

“Well forget the death part then. Romeo is in love with Juliet, you can at least relate to that. And he is so close to his love, she is right there, and he can’t be with her. Forget the death, try to just think of it like that. Now go.” You said and pushed him off the bed. He raised his eyebrows but obliged. 

“A grave? O, no. A lantern, slaughtered youth, For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes This vault a feasting presence full of light…” Tom began. You became entranced in his words, no longer following along on the script, but staring as he made hundreds of years old words come to life in your dorm room. 

“Wow.” You muttered when he finished. 

“See? I can’t get it.” He sat at the edge of the bed and ran his hand through his hair again, something you learned he always did when he was nervous or frustrated. 

“What do you mean? That was great.” You said. “Really great, it was… Yeah, no, it was great.” He raised his eyebrows at you, but smiled anyway. 

“Thanks.” 

✰✰✰✰✰

You woke up at four in the afternoon on Saturday to a phone call. 

“Yeah?” You answered groggily. 

“Did you just wake up?” You heard a familiar voice ask. 

“Maybe.” You replied. 

“Jeez, Y/N, you never sleep this late.” 

“I’m aware. What’s up Tom.” 

“Oh I wanted to invite you to the delt party tonight. I’m assuming since you just woke up that you don’t know that all of your friends are going.” You groaned.

“What?” He asked. “Are our parties really that bad?” 

“No, no, I’m just so sick and have so much shit to do this week, I really can’t afford to be sick right now.” 

“So that’s a no?” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Look, I’m about to doze off again, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hung up the phone without hearing what he said and immediately fell back asleep. 

You were woken up again at ten, this time to a loud knock on your door. You wrapped a blanket around you and stumbled towards it, surprised to find Tom on the other side. 

“Took you long enough, I’ve been knocking for like, 10 minutes.” He said and walked into your room. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your party?” 

“Nah, not going.” 

“What? Why not?” You asked and sat on your bed as he unzipped his backpack. 

“Got other things to do.” He said and started pulling things out of his backpack. 

“What’s more important than getting smashed and hitting on sophomores?” You joked. 

“Hah hah very funny.” He said sarcastically. “Now get in the shower.” 

“What?” 

“You said you needed to stop being sick, so I’m here to help you.” 

“You can magically cure my illness?” You said with a cough. 

“Yes.” You looked at him surprised. “Look, I used to get sick before big shows all the time, my mum taught me exactly how to get rid of illness.” 

“So how do we do that?” 

“Well it starts with you getting in the shower. Gotta wash all the germs off you. While you do that, I’m gonna throw your comforter in the wash and put fresh sheets on your bed.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” You said. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He said. “Now get in the shower.” 

“Fine.” You said and got up, walked towards the bathroom door, but found yourself getting dizzy. You gripped your bookcase to hold you up, but you ended up collapsing. Thankfully Tom realized and was able to catch you. 

He sat you on the couch as the dizziness went away. 

“Sorry,” you said. 

“Don’t be. You haven’t eaten all day.” 

“Still.” 

“Alright let’s get you in the shower.” He said and helped you stand up. He walked you to the bathroom and turned the shower on, feeling the water to make sure it was getting warm. 

“Shout if you need anything.” He said as he made his way back to your room. 

“Tom?” You asked. He turned to look at you. “Do you mind, uhm… staying? It’s just, because I’m sick there’s a greater chance I’ll pass out because of my heart, and I just… I’m scared.” 

Tom’s face turned red, but you pretended not to notice. 

“Of course. Just let me throw in your comforter and change your sheets, I’ll be right back.” He left the bathroom, but kept the door open a crack. You stripped and jumped in the shower, the hot water feeling great on your cold body. It wasn’t long before Tom returned, his hands over his eyes. 

“I grabbed you some PJs, but if they’re not the right ones I can grab different ones.” He said, trying to find his way to the toilet so he could sit down. 

“Those are great, thank you. Tom, you don’t need to close your eyes, the doors are frosted glass, you can’t see anything.” 

He looked up and realized that that was in fact, true. The glass was frosted from the neck down, so you were able to make eye contact. Tom could still see the outline of your body through the glass, so he kept thinking about anything that could keep his mind off your naked body. 

“If you were so worried about me passing out you could’ve just joined me,” you said with a wink. Tom pretended to laugh as he adjusted his sweatpants.

“Tom, I was kidding.” You said and tried to brush past the awkward moment. You were just trying to clear the tension, but also secretly wished that he was in the shower with you. 

Once you were cleaned up, Tom averted his eyes and handed you a towel, which you gratefully accepted and wrapped around your body. He left the bathroom and you quickly changed, then walked out running the towel through your hair. 

“Hi,” You said and he turned to look at you. 

“Alright back in bed, miss.” He said with a stern look on his face. 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Back in bed.” 

“There’s no blankets on it?” 

“Your duvet is still drying, just get back in bed, it’ll be done soon.” 

“Jeez, are you always this stern when you’re trying to get women into bed?” You said as you climbed onto the mattress. You immediately regretted saying that, your brain couldn’t stop making jokes about the two of you fucking. What was wrong with you? He was gonna think you were a horny freak. 

“Very funny, Y/L/N,” He said and handed you a mug. 

“What’s this?” 

“Chicken soup.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” He replied as you started to eat. “Here,” He then said and handed you a few pills. 

“What are these?” 

“Nyquill and musinex. Trust me, it’ll help.” You obliged, popping the pills into your mouth. 

“Fuck,” Tom said as his phone buzzed. “Fuck, I gotta take care of this. Eat, I’ll be back in 10.” 

“Wait, Tom?” You asked, stopping him. “You don’t need to come back, I feel bad you’re missing one of your parties.” 

“There’s always gonna be another party, Y/N. I’ll be back in 10.” He said and left the room. 

You turned on your favorite comedy special on the TV and got up and poured yourself a glass of red wine, chugging the entire thing. Maybe drinking to avoid processing your feelings wasn’t the best idea, but it was too late now. You poured yourself a second glass, finished that one, and poured a third before heading back to bed. 

You finished your soup, not realizing how hungry you had been. 

“I’m back, ba-” Tom cut himself off before saying ‘babe’, but you didn’t notice. “Y/N, stop!” He said as you brought the glass of wine to your lips. 

“What?” You asked. 

“You can’t drink, you just took a shitload of cold medicine, it’ll make you super fucked up.” 

“Oh. Oops.” 

“No, it’s ok, a few sips won’t really do anything.” 

“Oh. Well…”

“Well, what, Y/N?”

“Well that may be my third glass.” 

“You drank two full glasses of wine in the few minutes I was gone?”  He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. 

“Maybe…”

“Y/N Y/L/N, you are one of the smartest people I have ever met, and you didn’t know you’re not supposed to mix alcohol with cold medicine?” 

“No? I’m sorry.” You said and felt your head spinning. The alcohol was already starting to take effect. 

“It’s fine.” He said and went over and made himself comfortable on the couch. You hiccuped, but except for that and the TV, the room was silent for a while. He grabbed your comforter from the dryer and threw it over you, but still returned to his spot on the couch.

“Tommy….” You said, not realizing you were using a pet name. Your brain was fuzzy, like you were drunk, but more out of it. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“Come lie with me.” You whined. 

“What?” 

“I’m cold, you gotta come keep me warm. You’re my space heater.” You said, your words slurring. 

There was nothing Tom wanted more than to jump into bed and hold you until you fell asleep, but he knew he shouldn’t. You’d woken up next to each other multiple times now, and his feelings were only intensifying. 

“Just try to fall asleep, Y/N.” He said, not moving from the couch. You gave an audible “humph” and crossed your arms. 

“Tommy.” You whispered a few minutes later. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“I’m not tired. Let’s do something.” You said sitting up. 

“You are tired, you just don’t realize it.” 

“Am not.” You said and got out of bed and walked over to the couch. You pushed his legs off and sat back on your heels where his feet were. 

“Y/N, really, go back to bed.” 

“Make me.” You said. 

“Y/N…” 

“Tommy....” You said, mimicking his tone. 

“I said go back to bed.” He said, his voice rough. You were too drunk to realize how turned on that one sentence made you. 

“And I told you to make me.” You said and stuck your tongue out. Before you could process what was happening, Tom had picked you up bridal style, walked you over to the bed and put you down. By the time you sat up, he was back on the couch, pretending to focus on the TV. 

You got up again and tiptoed over to the couch, sitting on his lap clumsily. 

“Y/N, I’m serious.” 

“Y/N, I’m serious,” you mocked his tone. He picked you up again, repeated the entire process. You sat up, but didn’t leave the bed, Tom standing over you. 

“What do I have to do to get you to stay in bed.” He said. 

“Uhmmmmmmmmmmm…” You said. “You could tie me up,” You said with a wink. “There’s rope in the bottom drawer.” You added. 

Tom rubbed his temples with his fingertips. “God, Y/N, what are you doing to me?” He muttered under his breath so you couldn’t hear. 

“Please just go to sleep.” He said loud enough for you to hear and went back to the couch. 

You waited a minute before leaving the bed again, going over to the couch, this time straddling his lap before he could stop you. 

“I’m not tired. I wanna do something fun.” 

“Y/N, you need to sleep, you’re sick.” 

“C’mon, let’s do something fun!” You said, wrapping your arms around his neck and bouncing up and down slightly. Tom had to focus his entire brain on not getting an erection, but you were straddling him and bouncing. 

“Y/N…” He said and tried to get you off of him. “Let’s just watch the show, ok? Is that fun enough?” 

You pouted, which hurt his heart. You looked so cute, and he hated seeing you sad. You rested your head on his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him, legs still straddling him. 

It took a minute before your drunk brain got a truly terrible idea. 

“I know what we can do for fun,” you whispered in his ear. You softly kissed his jawline, moving down and sucking gently on his earlobe before focusing on his neck. You sucked and kissed, rougher now. You heard him moan quietly, which just made you more excited, so you sucked harder now. 

Before you knew it, Tom was picking you up and throwing you on the bed again. 

“I gotta go.” He said harshly before walking out, shutting the door loudly behind him. You sat in bed for a while, upset that he left, and scared that you did something to make him leave. Soon enough, the cough medicine and wine kicked in and you found yourself dozing off, cuddling the sweatshirt Tom had hastily left behind. 

✰✰✰✰✰

Going down the two flights of stairs felt like it took forever, but it couldn’t have taken more than 30 seconds. Tom hastily entered his room, turned on his desk lamp, and gave a sigh of relief that Harrison was still at the delt party. 

He stripped down and jumped in the cold shower, willing his massive erection to go away. Of course the easiest thing to do would be to just jack off, but he didn’t want to do that. It felt dirty, jacking off to the thought of you, when you were too fucked up to realize what you were doing. 

5 minutes later the freezing water was still not helping. He decided to take matters into his own hands, literally. He began moving his hand up and down, slowly, closing his eyes, his hand on the wall in front of him and the cold water falling around him. 

He knew Harrison wasn’t home, so he didn’t bother trying to stifle his moans, and within a few minutes he was close to the edge, muttering your name and picturing you lying on the bed, winking at him, bouncing on his lap, the feeling of your lips on his neck, the smell of you surrounding him. 

It never took him this long to cum usually, but you had an effect on him he had never experienced before. He finished with a final moan of your name, washed up and left the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. 

He threw on a pair of shorts and collapsed into bed, despite it only being midnight. He quickly fell asleep, dreaming of your soft lips on his neck. 

✰✰✰✰✰

tags: @thatweirdomimic, @u-rrose

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #frat!tom #tom holland x you