#i did fuck all this weekend so its gonna hurt monday when i have to start scrambling
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Fuck u I shouldn't have to work on weekends vs Jesus christ I have so much to do. Fight.
#i did fuck all this weekend so its gonna hurt monday when i have to start scrambling#ive gotta do extractions and make media and back up cultures and work on my preproposal#and do 3 assignments rip. ugh im so tried. ill just work on things tomorrow#i have an appointment tomorrow to get accommodations for my learning disability tomorrow and idk what thatll b like#ive sorta got a chip on my shoulder abt using accommodations so im afraid ill come off as rude#but idk itll make me freak out less if i get etra time on exams. i never stay after tho basically i wont use any#so whats the point but everyone is telling me to do it so i am#my mom calls the way i read a lil ADD bc i cant pay attention long enough to make the words make sense bc i get distracted by my thoughts#its real annoying 😒#how to cure that? stop reading. problem solved 😌#unrelated
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Eulogy
#soap spoilers#okay so now my aunt who was gonna write the eulogy backed out because shes 'sick'#99 degree fever#anyway they asked me to write it but i cant#like im not the person to write it for my father#i have no good memories of him i tried thinking of some on monday when it was pretty clear he was gonna die#but i couldnt#i really couldnt#all i ciuld think of was when he got cps called on us because my broyher said he hit him but it was a secret#or how he yelled at me for falling off the sea wall and thats how he showed he cared#or how he snapped his phone in half because he wanted a new one and thought my mom would get him one if he did that#i have no good memories eith this man#if i push and pull i can manipulate memories into at least okay memories#i can say one time (when i was 16) he asked me what i wanted to be when i grew up (he was drunk one weekend)#and we talked about science and how he wanted to do that but then life took a different course#but theres so much pruning their its deceptive and for what?#ive been hurt so much vy him#i dont have stories about how he walked through a blizzard to be with my mom or whatever#i literally dont have happy memories so im not the person to write a eulogy i cant im not the right person#he did so much fucked shit to me and wasbt there for me in so many ways thst i cant even. pretend to have good memories#maybe yhey happened maybe i was there for skme of the good times but i dont remember so it doesnt feel like thats true you know#apparently at one point he was getting treatment and was doing good but i was too young to remember#my sister maybe does so you know she at lesst got a dad thatvwas better#but i cant pretend im not bitter and jealous abd mad avout what I never got how he bever apologized or changed how it didnt feellikehecared#so no im not the person to write a eulogy for him so dont try to make me it wont go well all that will happen is i will get mad abd cry#so lets not and say we did or whatever
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💌
supervisor!simon
You lied down, cooling off from all of the random shit you were doing, so rearranging your living room, dusting things, potting plants, playing with the stray that is always outside eating its food.
You get a notification on your phone, you look to read and It’s from johnny.
“What the fuck?”
“You busy?” the text message read, You sure weren’t!
You get up and stroll, You think about your response standing in the middle of your kitchen. “Uh no? Lol” You send the message and proceed to set your phone on the kitchen counter. But before you do, Johnny’s caller ID pops up on your screen.
You let out a groan, you hated when people did that. “Hello,” you answer it, sounding as cheery as you can. “Hey,” he says and you say hey back.
“What’s up?” you ask, itching your head out of confusion,”Just wanted to call.” You can hear him shrugging on the other end of the phone. “Well that’s nice of you,” You state, it comes out more like a question. “Can I ask why?”
“I was thinking about our conversation earlier,” he says, you bite your lip in thought, “What about the conversation?”
It was pretty straightforward, one day you and simon couldn’t stand each other, johnny gets hired, he flirts with you here and there, he makes weird jokes about how weird simon is, takes you on a date, that is a date but it’s not a date, so he wants you to have redo. Sounds as straightforward as it gets.
“You liked me then ?” Johnny says on the other line, You let out a huff, “I did.” admitting it out loud made your chest hurt. It sounded bad to say. “Is he there?” He asks, “No,” You say, and look around your apartment. Johnny sucks in a breath, “You okay?” you ask in return, “I’m alright,” he says. “Can I ask why you’re calling?” You shift on your right leg, “I really don’t know.” he chuckles. “Okay,” you let out a breathy laugh, “The dinner meant a lot to me if that’s what you want to know.” you share.
Johnny lets out a breath. “I did want to know.” He answers, “I know you did,” you state.
“Simon really does it for you,” he chuckles again, “Maybe,” You think about Simon for a second, and remember the text message you sent, you pull your phone away from your face and scroll to your messages, the text saying delivered under its green hue.
You put the phone back to your ear, “He’s a good guy, It just was a misunderstanding on both parts.” You inform him. “A misunderstanding.” He repeats, “Never thought about it that way.”
“I didn’t either,” you exhale, grabbing a glass from your cupboard. “Seems like he treats you well?”
Even though you two weren’t together and there was a very big chance that You and Johnny wouldn’t ever be together, From the day you saw him standing next to johnny. Simon's presence just loomed over you. The need to be around him all the time sometimes engulfs you. He's so caring and attentive and he listens most of the time. Of course you were sick in love, stressing when he wouldn’t talk to you, it’s like putting you under a spell. “Hey, I’m gonna call you back,” You announce, “That’s alright.” he assures you, “Talk to you soon?”
“Yeah, sure.” You hang up. Still no response from Simon. You text him again asking if he was okay, or if he needed anything.
And on your end, still no response.
-
The whole weekend you and Simon barely spoke, you’d send a message and he’d read it 6 or 7 hours later. You played phone tag with him, hoping to catch him at some point but eventually you turned yourself in and went to sleep waiting for a response.
Monday you walk into the office, Simon in a random chair rolling around. Joking with Victor, who’s all of a sudden very funny. You ignore everyone’s good morning’s and hello’s. You bolt past him and head to the break room and see a very cheery Johnny chatting Linda up.
“And she’s just the cutest you’d love her,” Linda says while showing him her phone. A cute girl on her screen, You fill up your water bottle and roll your eyes, walking past them without saying excuse me.“What’s the matter?” he creeps up behind you, massaging your shoulders, You squirm away from him. “You okay?” he asks, “I’m fine.” You mumble. “You Sure,” he prods, trying to be funny, “I kinda just want to be alone .” You look at him, he backs off, and goes back to whatever he’s doing.
The day went exactly like that, Simon not paying attention, Johnny being a kiss ass, both of the men making your ass itch, profusely (there was no other way to describe it, sorry!). You packed up your stuff quickly, making a quick exit. Ignoring Simon's attempts at getting your attention. You get i
When you unlock the door, you can see your reflection in the sliding glass door. You look exhausted. You drop your bag on the floor, and take your clothes off and get in the shower, once you get out, you open the clock app, and check the time from back home. You slide into bed and get comfortable, your legs and arms feeling a bit heavy from today's emotions.
You go to your contacts, and click on your moms, It rang and then it stopped, your moms voice on the other end, “Hello?” She answers just like you, “Hi mom,” you breathe, holding back your tears, “Hey babY!’ She says overly excited, a small sad smile forming on your face, “Hi Mom,” your voice breaks, “What’s the matter?” she says picking up on the tone of your voice.
“It’s nothing,” you sniffle, “Where’s dad?” you ask immediately, “where he’s always at.” She chuckles, “You know I was just talking about you today?”
“Oh god,” you chuckle nervously, “All good things I hope.” You cross your fingers, “I’m not that much of a gossiper,” she giggles. You smile at the smile of her laughter, missing waking up in your childhood bedroom, watching your parents in the kitchen and your siblings running around and terrorizing each other. You get another call, cutting your mothers sentence in half, “Hold on mom, someone else is calling,” You announce pulling the phone from your face.
Simon’s contact on your screen, You let out a sigh and you can hear your mom’s “oh lord.” from the phone's speaker, “Mom, I’m gonna call you back okay?” You say, “That’s fine, I gotta get to bed anyway,” She shares, “I’ll call you tomorrow?” You ask, “Sounds good.”
“Bye mom, I love you.” You tell her, “I love you too.” She says before clicking off the call.
You call Simon back. “Hey,” his deep voice answers. “hi.” you answer back, “What was going on today?” He says, worried. You let out a big sigh, “I don’t know.” Irritation in your voice. “You sound mad,” He chuckles, “I’m not.” you mumble.
You weren’t mad, just disappointed, not that you didn’t run errands with him or that he didn’t text you all day, or that he didn’t care that you missed him or also because he didn’t check on you. But because you know the lengths you would go, to just be near him. Which was embarrassing on your end.
“You sound pissed,” He bothers and you roll your eyes. “Is this what you called for?” You snap. “Partially, but I called to see if I could come over.” He states. “It’s whatever.” you mumble before clicking off the call.
Simon immediately calls back, you let out a loud grunt, “So is that a yes or a no?” He asks, “It means whatever, come if you want, don’t if you don’t.” You press the glowing red button again, Shutting your phone off. Throwing it somewhere on the bed. 20 minutes later, you can hear Simon's loud police-like knocks. You groan and get out of bed. Making your way to the front door you shut off all the lights that were still from when you entered your apartment.
When you open the door you see Simon in his gym clothes with a nice packed bag hanging off his shoulder. Immediately reaching to touch your forehead, You swat his hand away, “im fine” you move out of the doors way letting him in. He follows behind, taking note of the way your shoulders slump, your aura is off.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower.” He announces, you nod, and slide back into your bed, waiting for him to get out of the bathroom. When he does he’s just in his underwear, you watch him walk towards your bed, his thick legs taking long strides towards you, finally, landing on the bed next to you. You’re both quiet, he wraps his arms around your waist.
“Can I ask something,” He says hesitantly, “what?” you yawn, “When was the last time you got your period?” You pull away from him, “Why?” you ask concerned, “just answer the question,”
“Let me check my phone,” You search for it frantically, this couldn’t be right. it won’t be. Simon searches also, finding it in the sheets he then hands it to you, “Here,” he says softly, watching you intently.
You scroll on your screen going to your tracking app, “when was the last time we had sex?” You ask, scrolling up and down the calendars logged with red drops. “Like a week ago.” You let out a weird noise, something between a groan and whimper. Anxiety hits your stomach immediately. You scroll down, and as if life couldn’t have a more sick game in mind, the calendar for last month wasn’t logged.
No red drops, no symptoms. You’re quiet, and Simon grabs the phone from your hands, He scrolls up and down, “What does this mean?” He asks, still scrolling. “I didn’t log my period,” you answer, Simon sucks in a breath, rubbing his hand over his face, “When did we first start?”
“Like over a month ago, I don’t know,” You say frustrated, “Don’t get frustrated,” He starts, “I’m not,” you snap again, “I’m thinking,” You huff. “My cycle probably changed or something,” You try and soothe yourself.
Maybe that could explain the weird behavior, the need to be around him, how sleepy and snappy you are. The headaches, the irritation. No. It doesn’t.
You sit with your legs crossed, “This is just fucking great.” You huff.
taglist:@darkravenqueen98@shunoodles @lovely-giggles @imjustmes @definitelynotaclown @oreo-cream @whos-fran @ilovehyperfixating @idkbbyx3@pieckyghost @mareiasereia@emmalandry@aylaveyou @w00lgathering@sugartits-123@thesinsoflust@yuujuice
#supervisor!simon#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley cod#ghost cod#ghost headcanons#ghost fanfiction#simon riley#ghost simon riley#cod mw2#cod#call of duty
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Wanna Be Yours
Pairing: Dadsbestfriend! Bucky (mid/late 40s) x reader (in early/mid twenties)
Summary: Y/N surprises bucky on a business trip and he promises to be hers.
Warnings: SMUTTY stuff (18+ only pleasee), unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), riding, teasing, significant age gap, reader takes charge, “Doll/sweets/baby/sweetheart”, some cute ass shit at the beginning and end tho
WC: about 3K im sorry I was really H*rny yesterday and I was unable to do anything about it as i was stuck in the car all damn day
Note: So I was really h*rny yesterday and this happened lol I’m sorry. Loosely based on the song wanna be yours-arctic monkeys. Also this will probably be the only smut I ever write bc I don’t wanna become an 18+ blog or make anyone uncomfortable (not that 18+ blogs are bad tho lemme set that straight, most of my fav blogs are)
PS thank you for the love on my first ever fic with Peter Parker x reader, it made me so happy that ppl didn’t think I suck lol ( and i guess i lied saying i would probably never write another one shot lol)
You do NOT have my permission to repost this anywhere, I will come for u if you plagiarize ok bye
It was no secret that Bucky liked to be in charge in the bedroom, and you had absolutely no problem with that. After all, he was older and more experienced; he knew how to make your body sing. But this week you were craving something a little different. Bucky had been away on a business trip all weekend and you really missed him, not just the sex (but I mean…) but just cuddling and talking to him about your day; you were feeling clingy. You decide to text bucky even though you knew he couldn’t answer right away because he was currently in a meeting.
Y/N: I mis youu :( when will you be back tomorrow?
You just wandered around your apartment for the next 20 minutes, casually checking your phone about every 30 seconds just in case bucky was able to sneak in a text. He finally replied after 30 minutes, right as his meeting was ending at 3.
Bucky: Hey doll, I miss you too <3
Bucky: unfortunately one of the investors this morning had to push their meeting to late tomorrow afternoon, so I’m not gonna be home until very late tomorrow night :(
Y/N: dammit :(
Y/N: well good luck at the pitch meeting tomorrow, I love and miss you <3
Bucky: don’t gimme that pout I know your making doll, ill see you tonight on facetime! :)
Y/N: haha u know me so well, and yes you’ll see me tonight ;) (but I still miss u)
Bucky: I know doll I hate it too, see you tonight. Love you <3
Y/n: love you too <3
You didn’t know if you could go until late Monday without seeing bucky. As you laid on the couch smiling sadly about missing your love, an idea popped into your head. He was only two and a half hours away, and he wouldn’t be back at his hotel for another 4 hours at least. Fuck it, you were gonna go drive to his hotel and surprise him. You couldn’t be away so long, you felt super clingy this weekend and you needed to be on top of with him.
You quickly ran around your apartment, packing an overnight bag and you saw the package that arrived earlier on your floor that you completely forgot about because you couldn’t stop thinking of Bucky. You remembered its contents e(a completely evil lingerie set) and threw it in the bag with a smirk on your face.
The drive to Bucky’s hotel felt like forever and you had to remind yourself to stop speeding because you were so excited. When you finally got to his hotel, you had to convince the manager to give you a key to his room, proving that you were the man’s girlfriend with several pictures on your phone which was slightly embarrassing because in almost every picture, at least one of you was half-naked. Worth it. You thought. When you arrived in his room you quickly went into the bathroom to change into a little black dress (with a surprise underneath). Then as you were sitting on his bed waiting for him, you realized it would still be a while before he would get back, so you decided to tidy up his things, packing his clothes and organizing his suitcase. Pleased with your work, you sat back down on the bed and looked at your phone for a while. You finally got pulled out of your Instagram daze when you heard Bucky’s voice in the hallway laughing at something a coworker said. You quickly threw your phone on the dresser, straightened up you dress, and sat at the edge of the bed with a huge smile on your face, giddy to surprise him.
As he turned the doorknob he was still looking behind him talking to the man. When he finally said goodbye and turned his head around, his eyebrows raised up and his jaw dropped, which was quickly replaced with a smile even larger than yours.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, running towards you and throwing his briefcase on the floor.
He picked you up in a tight hug and you squealed, legs immediately wrapping around his waist.
“I told you you’d see me tonight!” you said, still clung to him like a koala.
“W-what?” He replied, still in shock. Letting your legs fall back to the floor.
“I just missed you too much” you shrugged.
If any human could embody “heart eyes” it was Bucky at that moment- he’s such a softie for you. He pulled your face towards him and gave you one of the most loving kisses you’ve ever had in your life. You were expecting it to be passionate and rough, but it was soft, delicate and loving, and your heart melted into a puddle. After your lips parted, you gazed into each other’s eyes before being pulled up in another tight hug. You giggled and wrapped your legs around him again.
“I guess you missed me too huh?” you laughed.
“Oh doll, you have no idea.”
You wrapped your hands in his hair, massaging his neck and he moaned loudly.
“Mm, that feels nice.” He hummed.
“You tired baby?” you asked, he seemed like he needed some TLC (and you were ready to give it to him).
“I am so exhausted.” He replied, making you frown behind his back.
You slowly slid down his body, back onto your feet again, and kept massaging his head. He looked at you lovingly before looking around his hotel room, his eyebrows pulled in confusion.
“Did you clean up in here?”
“Yep, while I was waiting for ya,” you replied, smiling.
His whole face softened.
“Oh, I really don’t deserve you doll.” Making you smile and shake your head.
“Oh yes you do.” You replied making him smile and his heart flutter in his chest.
He pulled you in for another kiss, this one with more fire and longing in it than the last one. His large hands grabbed you ass to pull you closer to him and you moaned into the kiss. You pressed your body against him even tighter and ran your hands through his hair making him moan. You could feel his pants tent start to grow against you and you smirked and moved you lips down to the side of his neck making him groan.
You pull back and look at him, hard and eyes half lidded, it turns you on so much you feel your panties dampening.
“Hey Buck?” you whisper, lips mere inches apart.
“Hmm?” he hums in response.
“I have another surprise for you.” You whisper into his ear before pulling back to look at his face.
“What’s that, doll?” he whispers.
You smirk and step away from him, noticing the confusion on his face before you pull your dress over your head and throw it onto the floor.
Bucky’s jaw drops, making you bite your lip and smirk even more. This was gonna be fun.
“Oh, fuck me,” He groans.
“Oh, I fully intend on it, Buck” you smirk.
He just groans and starts walking towards you.
“Buck?”
“Yeah sweets?”
“Wanna be mine tonight?”
“Fuck, I’ll be yours forever doll.” He says, making you whimper. You pull him against you by his tie, pressing your bodies together.
Your lips crash and tongues swirl together fighting for dominance. Hands moving up and down each other’s bodies like animals. Bucky squeezing your ass so tight you know there’s gonna be marks.
You both pull back enough so you can shimmy off Bucky’s tie and throw it over his head before unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off him. You then sink to your knees and undo his belt quickly before slowly unzipping his pants, kissing the outside of his member though his pants making him exhale a breath sharply.
“Fuck” he breathes out.
You don’t want to tease him too much (yet) so after another kiss, you shove his pants off and lay down on the bed, his body caging you under him.
The passionate makeout session resumes with Bucky still hard in his boxers pressing against your clothed core. You suddenly remember what you wanted and pull back from the kiss.
“Wait, no” you whisper.
Bucky pulls back, confused and nervous he did something to hurt you.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers.
You take advantage of his confusion and roll him over so you were straddling him with a smirk on your face.
Bucky moans at your actions, core pressing tight against him.
“You said you’d be mine.” You breathe over his lips. Moaning as being in charge is giving you a whole rush of feelings and confidence.
You kiss him, and he lets you dominate the kiss this time, biting his lips and grinding on him. He bucks his hips onto your and you pull back.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you, I’ll make you feel so good.”
Bucky moans at your words as you start to kiss all the way down his body, leaving little hickies down his chest. When you get towards his boxers he thinks your gonna kiss his member or pull down his boxers, but instead you go back up his chest, licking a stripe from his belly button all the way to one of his nipples, up his neck, to his lips.
Bucky moans, loud. You give him one more kiss before deciding to stop teasing him (kinda). You quickly kiss down his chest again and then plant a few kisses on his aching cock through his boxers. He bucks his hips and is whimpering under you. Fuck, that turns you on. Your big strong boyfriend who could probably crush you with one arm, whimpering and practically begging under you. Your panties are fucking soaked and you don’t think you can deny your own pleasure too much longer. You pull down his boxers and his cock is throbbing and dripping precum.
“Shit” you moan at the sight.
You lick the precum off him and he gives a high pitched moan that goes straight to your core.
“Baby please, I- I can’t.”
“Don’t worry baby I got you.” You reply as you take his full member into your mouth, sucking lightly.
Bucky moans and bucks his hips into your mouth. You push them back down and suck a few more times before getting off of him. He looks worried for a second before you slide your panties off and straddle his cock.
“Still wanna be mine?”
“Always” he replies.
You sink down onto him, jaw dropping and eyes closing at the feeling. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to him no matter how many times he’s been inside you. You both moan as his whole cock is finally buried inside you.
“Fuck Bucky, you feel so fucking good in me.” You moan, starting to rock your hips.
“God, I’m so fucking wet for you.”
Bucky continues to give low moans as you start to ride him.
“Fuck baby, I love you like this.” He says, making you start to ride him harder, moaning at his words.
His hands come grab your hips to help you ride him faster, harder.
“Baby- shit I’m close already.” He pleads.
“All for me? Shit baby aren’t I the lucky one?” You moan.
Bucky’s grip on your hips tighten and he starts to fuck up into you. He was about to blow.
You moan loudly at the feeling. “Cum in me baby please I need it.”
After a particularly hard thrust into your wet pussy you feel him spilling inside you. He lets out one of those vulgar high pitched moans and grunts that make your brain short circuit and your eyes roll back while your pussy clenches around him. You feel yourself getting close, but you want to give him another orgasm, so you sink down on him fully and slowly ride him, hearing him whimpering and moaning. You feel him get hard in you again (thank you supersoldier serum) and you rock back and forth on him. You reach down to rub your clit, but Bucky sees it and swats your hand away, replacing it with his metal one.
“Oh fuck” you moan at the cool sensation.
You start to bounce up and down on him again, the knot in your abdomen building and heating up. You feel yourself close to being undone as you ride him and his other hand runs up your body and squeezes your nipple through your thin lace bra. You moan and feel yourself clench around him, making him moan.
“Fuck- I’m gonna c-“ you get interrupted by the white hot explosion of your orgasm. Your eyes roll back, jaw hangs open and toes curl as you feel that release knock throughout your whole body, making you shake. You let out those high pitched moans and whines that only Bucky makes you feel.
Feeling you clench around him and watching your completely fucked out face, you feel Bucky’s thick cock twitch inside of you, and you moan as you feel him release in you again. Fuck that makes you feel good. So good you can’t think or move and you start to collapse on top of Bucky, but he slightly catches you and lays you down on his chest, both breathing heavy, with his cock still inside you, cum dripping all down your legs and onto Bucky.
You can’t speak, can’t think, the pleasure totally ruining you. After what feels like forever, you feel your breathing start to return to normal, as does Bucky’s, and you feel his hand rubbing up and down your back, grounding you back to earth from wherever on cloud nine you were.
You hum as you feel yourself finally calm down.
“Holy fuck, doll” you feel him lowly whine in your ear. You can only moan lowly in response.
“Baby that was fucking amazing.”
“Mmhmm.” You hum.
“…but I think I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep clenching around me.” He chuckles.
“oh shit, sorry,” you mumble out. You try to push up off of him but the farthest you got was placing your hands on his shoulders before your body gave up on you.
“Oh my God, I can’t move” you whisper. You’re so fucked out, your body won’t respond to your brain anymore.
Bucky moans at your words and slowly rolls both of you so youre on your side facing him. He reaches down and pulls his soft cock out of your pussy, moaning when he sees a burst of cum leaking from you.
You moan at the feeling of him exiting your body. You look him in the eyes and give him a lazy smile. His eyes sparkle back at you and his hand comes up to rub your cheek.
“Mm” you hum at the feeling.
“That was fucking incredible” he says, making you smile wider.
“I’m not disagreeing” you quip.
He chuckles lightly before saying “you gotta do this more often.”
“What, surprise you on business trips?” you question.
“No” he rolls his eyes and smiles, “Well yes actually, but I was talking about you absolutely taking charge tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” you smirk.
“Fuck yeah doll, I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard. You looked so damn sexy in charge.”
You look away from his eyes, shying at his words, but also they were giving you the confidence to look right back into his eyes and say “I agree” with a smirk.
“I love hearing those high pitched moans you make, It turns me on so much” you admit.
“You know, only you can get those noises out of me, doll” he chides. You blush and smile at him.
He chuckles and you bring his face towards yours and kiss him deeply, tongues meeting together. You both hum into the kiss as his hand rubs down the side of your body.
When you break the kiss, both of you needing a breath, he pulls your body towards him, resting your head on his chest. You hum in peace as he rubs your back.
“I love you so much Y/N” he says and you feel your heart absolutely burst in your chest.
“I love you so much too Buck,” you reply, lifting your head to peck him on the lips before placing your head back on his chest.
You lay in silence for a minute before your mind begins to wander again.
“Did you mean it?” you ask.
“Mean what, doll?”
“That you’ll be mine forever?” you ask. “I mean not just in the sexy way but that you’ll be with me forever?” you ramble out.
“God yes sweetheart, you’re the one for me.” He responds and you didn’t think your heart could explode anymore, but it just did.
You squeeze his shoulder with your hand before coming up to kiss him passionately again, almost crying at all of the love going though you.
“I promise I’m all yours forever too, Buck” you smile at him.
“Good,” he smiles back, and you rest back on his chest, eyes getting droopy.
“Night-night sweetheart.” You feel yourself smile in your sleep.
“Goodnight my love.” You reply, further cuddling into his chest. Bucky feels his heart combust in his chest. God, wasn’t he lucky to have you. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you, but he knew that he was going to assure you that you deserve the world every day for the rest of his life. He kissed the top of your head before falling into a deep sleep, content with his favorite person tight in his arms.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#dadsbestfriend!bucky#James barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#im so soft for them#i am sorry for this but also no im not#the winter soldier#tws#smut#sexy times#dadsbestfriend!bucky au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes one shot#i wrote half of this in the car lol#sebastian stan#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan fluff#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan smut#seb stan#sebastian stan x y/n#sebastian stan x you
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Lost in Zero Gravity (P.14)
Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Fourteen)
Summary: Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers. Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share.
Words: 3,786
Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior
Author’s Note: F/N = fake name. Chapter is mostly Steve and contrasting how he is with her compared to Tony when they're alone.
Part Thirteen || Part Fifteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
You pushed yourself away from the table, grimacing at the tug in your lower back after having been shoved into the same position for that length of time. Well, that had been jolting but not entirely unexpected considering Steve’s temper. He was right about one thing: it was easier to please Tony most of the time.
Taking your time, picking up your bottoms, you walked to the bedroom and put them in your hamper. Luna was snuggled up on the end of the bed and lifted her head seeing you come in. You walked over and gave her a quick couple scratches on the head before moving to take your top off as well. You should shower considering Steve’s cum was drying on your inner thighs.
Steve was already lathered up in the shower when you walked in. He adjusted the head of the shower to hit you as he continued washing yourself down. He handed you your shampoo and turned the water back to him.
He got out first, leaving you to finish up. You heard his razor turn on, seeing him start to trim up his beard on his neck through the fogged glass. He was meticulous about it.
Turning the shower off, you reached out, grabbing your towel. You dried yourself off before stepping out and wrapping it around yourself, your eyes piercing the back of his head. You had something you wanted to ask and you did not know if right now was a good time.
“What are you hovering for?” Steve asked, his eyes not leaving the mirror.
You wrapped your towel tighter around yourself and asked timidly, “So, I was hoping I could go shopping?”
“For what?” he asked, brushing at his neck, not looking over at you.
“Christmas presents.”
“I’ll tell Terrence and Daryl when they’re back Monday. You know they don’t work weekends now. I don’t wanna send you with Eric or Wylan.”
“I could go with a friend?” you ventured. Steve stopped and looked at you for the first time during the conversation, unimpressed. You corrected, “Or I can wait.” He turned back around and finished up brushing his neck off. You wanted to get out of the apartment and even if it was with him after he had just done what he had done, you were willing to bite the bullet. Stepping closer, you saw him eye you through the mirror, and you tried again, “Or you could take me?”
Steve looked at you curiously for a few moments before putting his razor back in its holder. He nodded softly, “You could go with me. I haven’t taken you anywhere for a while, have I? I have plans for us on Monday night but tonight wouldn’t hurt too.” He turned to face you, reaching out to cup you underneath the chin. “And after that performance out in the kitchen, you do deserve a reward I would say.”
His ability to flip flop on his temperament was astounding.
“Incentivize you to keep it up and all.”
There it was.
“Wish I had brought a change of clothes, but showering works well enough, I suppose,” Steve said. “We can go after dinner. I should probably start looking for some gifts too.”
<><><>
Steve followed behind you in the stores, keeping a distance but always keeping you in sight. When you started picking things up though in one store that you thought would be good gifts, he closed the distance, coming up to take them from you and carry them. The third time he did it, you saw one of the salesclerks watching the scene and her face was scrutinizing, judgmental. She was looking between Steve dressed the way he was looking very upper class and you in your jeans with your lowcut crop top and jacket you had thrown on; you were sure the two of you looked a pair. You ducked your head, turning away from her. Steve noticed and he turned his head to level the clerk with a look.
“If you haven’t noticed, my hands are getting a little full. Do you have a bag or a basket you could offer me and my girlfriend?” he asked coolly.
Your eye widened not only at his tone but his use of the world ‘girlfriend’, not daring to look at the woman.
“O-of course, sir. Hold on,” you heard her say.
Steve leaned in and said, “She’s just jealous, dove. Ignore her. Keep going. I’ll be right behind you.” He gave you a little nudge in the leg with his, encouraging you, and you did as he asked.
The woman kept her face and tone neutral when Steve put the basket on the counter when you were ready and handed over his credit card, you standing behind him. Steve gave the woman a tight-lipped smile and a clipped goodbye before turning and grasping your hand, leading you out of the store. You tossed one more look over your shoulder at the woman and she was still staring, shaking her head when she saw you looking. You swallowed sharply and looked forward again, trying to believe what Steve had said and ignore her.
<><><>
The following night, you startled awake hearing noise in your room. You sat up quickly, seeing a figure by the door.
“Shh, it’s me,” Steve said, instantly relaxing you.
Rubbing at your eyes, you pressed at your phone and saw it was almost 2:00am. Steve was moving around the room, using only the light from the hallway coming through the crack in the door to guide him. You settled back down, wrapping yourself back up in your comforter as you gave a little shiver at the cold. Your room was set at a good temperature but the loss of the heat in your blankets was noticeable. You loved winter but sometimes the cold was unbearable here in New York.
You groaned when Steve lifted the blankets up again.
“Shh,” Steve breathed pulling the comforter up and slipping underneath the covers with you.
“Steve, it’s cold,” you complained.
He let out a low laugh as he folded himself up against you, pulling you close, and you knew immediately he was not dressed which only meant one thing. “Good thing I’m here then, hmm?”
His hand came up, unbuttoning the top buttons on your flannel top. His hand slipped in, cupping your breast, grinding his pelvis into your back side.
“It’s 2 in the morning,” you muttered, trying to burrow yourself deeper in the blankets.
“I’m just trying to help warm you up,” Steve breathed, his lips trailing along your exposed neck.
You made to complain again but his other hand snaked underneath your neck, pulling you to him and silencing you with a rough kiss, his hand moving quickly to work at the rest of your buttons. His tongue slipped into your mouth, swirling. Your shirt was open now and his hand slipped down your bare stomach to the band of your bottoms. His hand was warm as it cupped at your sex, his fingers sliding down, teasingly.
Steve had barely let you come up for air and when he did you inhaled deeply, causing him to chuckle lightly as he moved down to kiss at your neck. “Get naked for me, dove.” You did as he asked and he pulled you back to him, your back pressed to his chest. His thumb traced your pearl, and you bit your lip, trying to hold in a whine. He bit roughly at your neck and you gasped. He laid puckering kisses and said, “There we are. Don’t hold back, dove. I wanna hear it. Every single breath. Beg for me.”
One of his fingers entered, another following quickly. Curling up, he reached for your core. Your breath hitched, soft moans dropping from your lips.
“Tell me what you want,” Steve husked. You could feel his hard cock pressed into your ass as he slowly ground himself into you. His thumb left your clit and he slowed his fingers. “Come on. I know you can beg. You sound so sweet when you do.”
“More,” you rasped, your hand coming up to squeeze at your nipple.
Steve’s hand at your neck squeezed in causing you to turn your head, his nose inches from yours. He warned, “Stop that, I didn’t tell you to do that. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
Your hand stilled at your breast and he slowed his fingers down even more, much to your disappointment.
“Please fuck me,” you said, staring into his eyes.
His fingers started moving again and he asked, still keeping eye contact. His eyes flashed as he asked, “How do you want it, you dirty slut?”
“Really hard. I want you to fuck me…” You hitched again as he pushed a third finger in.
Steve’s fingers were gone, and he hooked your leg up just enough to press his head at your folds and he pushed in agonizingly slow.
“What was that? You didn’t finish,” Steve purred pressing his nose to yours, holding you close, fully seated inside.
“I want you to fuck me really hard!” you begged. “Please!”
Steve gave a little laugh, pulling away, his grip loosening on your throat. He nipped at your earlobe. “Well, since you are asking so nicely.”
He pulled out and thrusted back in, jolting you but he held you tight as he used you over and over. Face pressed into your pillow, you one hand was digging into the mattress beside you and the other gripping his forearm.
“I think I like it like this the most,” Steve growled, kissing roughly at your shoulder, his teeth dragging. “Holding you like this… having you begging for me. You like it, baby?”
“Y-yes,” you sputtered. “Yes, please don’t stop.”
“You beg so beautifully… so goddamn sexy,” Steve said, giving a hard thrust. He adjusted your leg and drove deeper, brushing your core with each movement, drawing low moans from you. His lips pressed to your cheek and he told you, “You want me to touch you? Hmm?” You nodded fervently and he demanded, “I didn’t hear that.”
Nodding again, you gasped, “Yes, please. Please touch me, Steve.”
“You’re gonna have to help me out then, baby,” he grunted, his hand leaving your thigh to grasp yours and yank it to your thigh. You followed his unspoken order, holding your thigh as his hand fell down to your clit, stroking you as he resumed.
It was coming on quick with him hitting your g spot and playing with your clit. Your breath quickened, pressing your face into the pillow.
“Look at me,” Steve demanded, his hand tightening on your throat again.
Turning your head back to him, you bit your lip, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you sped towards tipping over. Your eyes unfocused as it washed over you, your body shaking with release. Steve was praising you over the roar in your ear, his fingers still stroking you rapidly, extending your orgasm. Steve’s thrusts were becoming more controlled, focusing on stimulating his head. He felt your hold going lax on your leg and he came up to hold it for you as you came down.
He was panting broken sentences into your collarbone and he gave a thrust followed by a loud groan. He pulled out slowly and back in and you felt the heat deep inside. His grip on you was still tight, you wrapped up in his embrace as he exhaled heavily into your neck. He had gotten you off this time thankfully.
Steve pulled out, adjusting up behind you. His cleared his throat, pulling the blanket back up.
“Warm enough yet?” he quipped. You laughed at that, much to his amusement. He planted another kiss on your temple. “I’m leaving you a dress and shoes for tomorrow night.”
You had forgotten he had told you he had plans for tomorrow. “Where are we going?”
“Gala fundraiser.”
“Why am I going?”
“Because I want you to,” Steve said simply.
“But…” you started to ask but trailed off. You were weary about bringing up his wife. He seemed to pick up on what you were getting at regardless.
“She’s going out of town to her friend’s,” Steve muttered, squeezing you a little tighter. “So, don’t worry about it. I don’t wanna show up alone and who better to come with me than you? It’ll be fun. Free food, free drinks.”
“Is it really free if you’re donating money to them for the fundraiser?”
Steve snorted and said, “Touche. Regardless, it’ll be fun. Trust me.”
<><><>
The evening gown was a polar opposite of what Tony had selected for you to wear in Monaco. It was elegant, long, and silver. Your fingers traced the beading along the bust; it was shiny, very much like sparkling snow. Perfect for a winter gala.
You were waiting with your hair and makeup done, not wanting to put the dress and shoes on until closer to 5:00 when Steve was supposed to come get you. It was an anxious wait, even being just an hour, you just watching the clock, pacing, trying to focus on the TV show you turned on. When it was close enough to 5:00 and you put the dress on, you realized you could not zip it up the back yourself anyway.
Swearing under your breath, you walked out of the bedroom, thinking you could go into the hall and ask Terrence for help. Just as you were going to open the door, you heard the key. You stumbled back trying to get away before Steve could swing the door open and catch you in the face.
He was dressed in a tux with a bow tie you took in as you ran your eyes up and down him. He looked damn good.
Steve gave you a confused look as he closed the door behind him. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” you responded quickly. “I just need help.”
“With what?”
“This,” you told him. “I couldn’t get it myself.” You turned around and he placed the bag he was carrying down before coming up to you. He zipped it up and clasped the top gently, being careful to not tear the lace bodice.
You started to turn around and he ordered, “Stay there.” You did as he asked, adjusting the dress at your waist. He was rummaging through the bag and you heard him open something. His hands came around your neck and you looked down seeing a necklace.
“Your name is F/N for the night,” Steve said, clasping the necklace. His hands lingered on your shoulders, running down your arms to clasp. He turned you around and prodded, “Got it?”
You nodded, “Yes.”
“Don’t need to be putting your real name out there,” Steve went on. His eyes moved down to the necklace and he adjusted it on your collar. His lip upturned, “I was right. The aquamarine looks great with the dress. Very wintery.” He noticed you had put earrings in, and he touched at them. “You’re gonna have to take those out. I got you some to match the necklace.” He turned around and grabbed a small box, handing it to you.
“Right. Thank you,” you said, taking it from him. You moved down the hallway towards the bathroom to put your other ones away and replace them. You traced your finger over the studs, wondering how much he had spent on this outfit.
Steve gave you a pleased smile when you came back down the hall. “You look perfect, dove.” He held out his hand and said, “Let’s go.”
<><><>
“And who is this?”
“A friend. F/N.” Steve said, and you wondered how he could say something that was so plainly a lie. And to your immense shock the people at the table seemed to just accept it. You knew it was common for rich men to bring escorts like you on dates but when these people seemed to know Steve’s wife, that seemed… off. Then again, Steve was a different breed with his level of influence and calling him out on it was probably not smart. “Cecile is out of town and I didn’t want to show up alone. Not a great look.”
“No, no it’s not,” one of the other men at the table joked, smiling, and you saw him clasp the girl’s hand next to him. You had been wrongly assuming that the woman to his right was his date. The girl flashed you a small smile across the table in solidarity; you guys could pick each other out of a crowd.
“It’s an 8-course meal, so pace yourself,” Steve told you out of the corner of his mouth.
You sat there trying to figure out what all the courses would be; you had only had a 6-course meal. Hors d’oeuvres – which you had already had before sitting down –, soup, appetizer, salad, main course, and dessert. Were there going to be two appetizers? Two desserts? You would just have to pace yourself like he said, it was rude to not at least try the plate and you did not want to draw any unwanted attention to yourself or Steve, for that matter.
Sorbet came after the main course and you thought it was the dessert to only come to find out that no, it was not.
“Why are they serving two desserts? Also, what is the eighth?” you could not help but to murmur to Steve, your curiosity getting the better of you.
Steve looked tickled and whispered back, “That wasn’t dessert, dove. That was a palate cleanser. This is dessert. And then we will have a mignardise. And then we will be done, free to wander.”
“Good, because my butt hurts from sitting in this chair,” you said back, causing Steve’s lips to twitch in amusement as he held back a laugh.
Your ass was not hurting now but walking around in the heels you were wearing was not doing your feet any favors now. You hoped Steve was almost done making rounds to speak to people. Your attention was drawn suddenly to a familiar face in the crowd. You narrowed your eyes, finding Laurie staring directly back at you. He had been watching, that was clear. He raised his glass to you and your lips parted in surprise that he recognized you in return. You yourself had a knack for remembering faces and it seemed he did as well. He smirked at your expression before bringing the glass to his lips and taking a drink. He got blocked by the crowd again and you forced yourself to look forward again.
You went to squeeze Steve’s arm to tell him but hesitated. It was not that odd that another rich guy would be at an event like this, especially one that Tony had told you was in the same criminal enterprise business as them. It might not be even worth the time to tell him.
Steve looped arms with you again, pulling you away from this group and moved on through the crowd. You shot a look over your shoulder and were unable to see Laurie anymore.
“What are you looking for?” Steve questioned.
Meeting his eyes, you shrugged, “Nothing. I just… thought I saw someone. Are we leaving yet?”
Steve snorted, “Bored?”
“My feet hurt.”
“My, my, you are just falling apart tonight, aren’t you?” Steve teased quietly. He brought your hand up to his mouth, giving it a kiss. “Fine. We will head home in a few.”
<><><>
Steve got into the elevator to go up to Y/N’s floor. He clutched the bag he was carrying and tapped his foot, waiting to get off. When the doors opened, Eric was waiting in the hallway and he said, “Hey, boss.” Steve stopped and came over to him. “She’s got a friend over. Y/N.”
“Who?” Steve asked immediately.
Eric shrugged and said, “I think it’s one of the brothel girls. I recognized her but don’t quote me on it. Tony spoke to her when we went there I think? She was holding the cat?”
Steve could recall the girl vaguely. “Right. Well, as long as it’s girls coming over, that’s fine.”
“That’s what I figured.”
<><><>
Elisha and you straightened up hearing the keys in the door. “Is he gonna be mad it’s 5:00 and we are already drunk?” You snorted and shrugged, taking another quick drink.
Steve walked in and closed the door behind him. The pair of you turned around to look at him, smiling in greeting.
“What are you guys doing?” he asked, walking over.
“Family Guy drinking game,” you answered.
“It’s always a mistake. Even when we roll these dumb dice to get a season and episode randomly, we still manage to get some shots,” Elisha told him friendly.
Steve eyed the bottle of rum on the table and nodded in acknowledgment, “Sounds dangerous.” He held up the bag to you and said, “I brought you some things to wrap for Luna. I know people like getting their pets Christmas presents. Which is weird to me but nevertheless… here I am.”
Well, that was thoughtful of him. It was something you thought Tony would do before he would.
You took the bag from him and said, “So, you like the cat.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Steve replied. A few seconds of silence suspended between the three of you and he cleared his throat. “Well, I can see you’re busy. I’ll come back later.” He came over to the couch and kissed you. “Be good. Don’t get too drunk.”
“I won’t,” you promised.
“Goodbye, Elisha,” he said, and she looked surprised he remembered her name but she told him goodbye in return.
As soon as the door closed and locked behind him, Elisha looked over at you and made a face. “Is he mad? Are you going to get in trouble?” she whispered.
You shrugged. “I don’t think so. They said I could have people over and it’s not like they don’t know who you are.”
“He’s so intense.”
“He’s probably just horny. Like he said, he can come back later. Here, let’s rewind this a few minutes.”
Elisha groaned, “Do we really have to? I mean, missing a few minutes is probably saving us a lot of drinks.” You laughed in response and picked up the remote, rewinding it anyway. Elisha mumbled, “You just really wanna get me hammered.”
You noticed your phone lighting up by your thigh and you looked down, seeing Steve was texting.
Have her out of there by 9.
Sighing, you responded back telling him okay before putting your phone back down.
~~~
Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld
Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16
#tony stark x reader#steve rogers x reader#dark steve rogers#dark tony stark#mob tony stark#mob steve rogers#dark marvel#dark marvel fic#my shit
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Comfort and Care
𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
(𝑭𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝑫𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒅 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)
Blurb: Dominique comes over to help the reader feel a bit better after a bad week
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: so this is very self indulgent! I haven’t been doing too well mentally and that isn’t really portrayed in the fic but I wrote this because of that... I hope you enjoy! (Also I may write more lost girls content? We will see what happens! Let me know what you’re all vibing with!)
You cried yourself to sleep. You could barely focus on your studies and you didn’t even have the strength to brush your teeth.
You wanted it all to stop. The feeling to pass. You hated it and you hated yourself for it.
You didn’t want to get up and move, but you knew you had to.
—
You groaned and got up from your bed. Your reflection was sad— reflecting your current state— your hair was oily, a sign you needed to shower, Your skin was breaking out again, and your pajamas looked wrinkled and worn from you wearing them for days on end.
You didn’t have the strength or energy to change and make yourself presentable, but you had plans to meet your friends at the boardwalk.
You didn’t want to go. But you had to. They’d be upset you canceled on them. You hadn’t seen them since last weekend.
“Ugh! Fuck it!” They probably wouldn’t care anyway.
You went to the kitchen to grab the landline and dial-up the Emerson’s home phone.
If Grandpa hasn’t wrecked it yet.
It rang. It rang, and it rang, and it rang, and it—
—it stopped.
“Hello?”
“Michelle?” You asked.
“Hey, (Y/N)! What’s up?”
“Oh um, I don’t… I don’t feel good… I don’t think I’m gonna go to the boardwalk tonight.”
“Okay… I’ll tell the others. Do you want Dominique to come over? She’s gonna be pissed you didn’t show.”
A wave of guilt flashed over you. You hadn’t seen your girlfriend in a week…
She was going to be upset, and you didn’t want to upset her, but you really didn’t want to go out.
“Um, I’ll see her tomorrow…”
“Okay. Hope you feel better!”
“Thanks…” you put the phone back on the hook and went immediately back to your room.
You turned on your small tv, not bothering to see what was on, and buried yourself under the covers, and tried to fall asleep to the sounds of the television.
—
“(Y/N)... (Y/N)...”
You groaned as you slowly awoke. “Hhhhhhhh…” You rubbed your eyes and opened them.
Above you was Dominique. She was straddling your lap, her hand cradling your cheek.
“You’re up.”
“What— what are you doing here?” You asked.
“Michelle said you didn’t feel good,” She stated.
“Yeah, but—“
“I brought you snacks, some blankets, your heating pad you left at the cave, I even brought some movies from Darcy’s collection.”
“Thanks...”
Dominique frowned, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just tired. Tired of everything. I’m so overwhelmed but I don’t do anything! I feel so alone all the time. Which is stupid as hell, but—“
“Oh, Kitten, it’s okay… I get it…”
“It’s so stupid. I’m stupid. I wish I got to see you more often,” You frowned. “My parents are just arguing all the time and I’m worried they’ll drag me into it. I don’t know if I can take it.”
“Where are they now?” She asked.
“My mom went to her sister’s and my dad is at my grandpa’s. It’s just us.”
“Come here,” Dominique helped you get up and lean against your pillow. “It’s okay. This feeling will pass…”
“It feels like it never will. I was doing fine for so long and now I’m not! It’s pathetic.”
“No. You are not pathetic. You are amazing and strong and doing your absolute best.”
Dominique tried to give you a kiss, but you flinched.
“What is it?” She asked.
“I haven’t brushed my teeth today… my breath probably smells awful.”
“I don’t care. Pumpkin, I’m dead. My breath smells bad all the time. My eyebrows disappear when I vamp out. I kill people.”
“But still… I’m disgusting. My skin is breaking out again and I look like an oily rat.”
“When was the last time you showered?” She asked.
“I don’t even remember. Maybe Monday? I don’t know…” You felt so helpless. You felt so embarrassed in your girlfriend’s arms.
“How about we take a warm shower? That sound good?”
“Okay.”
Dominique led you into the bathroom and helped you strip out of your dirty pajamas. “Have you eaten today?” She asked.
“Yeah. I had some peanut butter and apple slices.”
“Anything else?”
“Coffee.”
Dominique frowned, tossing her shirt off and throwing it with your clothes, “Coffee isn’t a meal, kitten.”
“Yeah, but I needed the caffeine.”
“After your shower, I’ll make you something to eat. Come on.”
Dominique stuck her hand out to see if the water from the tub faucet was warm enough. When she decided it was, she pulled the diverter valve, letting the showerhead run. She held your hand, helping you into the shower.
You stood directly under the showerhead, letting it beat down on your hair. Dom grabbed your shampoo bottle, squirting some product into her hands, before lathering it into your scalp.
Her body pressed against yours. It was cold. Her hands in your hair were just as chilly.
You had become used to the feeling, but you still shivered. She was a stark contrast against the hot water coming down.
You rinsed out your shampoo and applied conditioner to your ends. You thought about shaving, but Dominique said that could be done another time.
You ran your fingers through your hair, washing the conditioner out of the ends when you noticed Dominique’s mullet no longer styled.
“Oh, your hair!” You cooed. “It’s all soaked.”
“It’s fine.” She waved off. “I’ll fix it later.”
You turned the water off and Dominique grabbed a towel for you.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” You both dried off and looked in your room for some clean clothes.
“Here’s one of your sweatshirts…” You sheepishly handed over. “I think I have some of your sweatpants too…”
Dominique chuckled. She gave them to you to keep, you didn’t have to be so shy about it. “Thanks, Kitten. What do you want to eat?”
“I dunno…”
Dom restated her question. “What do you have?”
“Uh, I think chicken strips…”
“Pumpkin…” She warned.
“What?”
“You cannot eat chicken strips for every meal.”
“I didn’t! I made pasta this week, and I even had a vegetable!”
“Good! Good, I’m proud. Sit at the counter and I’ll find something to make.” A small smile snuck its way onto your face as you got yourself an empty glass and filled it with water. You sat down, watching Dom look through your fridge and cupboard.
“Want me to make salmon? Or was your mom saving that?”
“Oh, um, if it’s in the freezer go ahead.”
You watched Dominique take out a baking tray, and place a piece of foil over it. She poured olive oil over it and added some spices to season the bottom side of the salmon. She cut up a lemon into thin slices, placing some on the pan and saving the rest for the top of the fish. She placed the salmon onto the tray and added more seasoning.
“I’m going to steam some veggies too. Can you get them out for me, Pumpkin?”
“Yeah,” You got up from your seat and opened the fridge. “We just have carrots and broccoli… um, there’s also some rice leftover from… I think Thursday…?”
“Get it out. I can reheat it.”
You placed it all on the counter for Dom to have access to. You sat back down and continued watching her cook as you absentmindedly sipped on your water.
As Dom steamed the carrots and broccoli, heated the rice, and cleaned up, she just had to wait for the fish to finish cooking in the oven.
She turned her attention to you.
she cupped your face with one hand gently, “You look tired.”
“So do you,” You teased.
Dominique squinted her eyes. “Are you trying to cause trouble?”
“No…” You had to hold back a giggle. She rolled her eyes and kissed your forehead.
“Lemme get you some more water.” She took your cup and refilled it.
“Thanks.”
“Mhmm,” Dominique glanced at the oven timer. There was a little less than two minutes left for the salmon.
“I’m going to see if it’s done. It probably is.” She opened the oven door and—
“Use an oven mitt!” You reminded her.
Dom almost scoffed, “Kitten, my skin will heal in a week—“
“It will smell like burnt flesh for weeks if you don’t use an oven mitt. And I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Dominique found it sweet how much you cared about her, even if it was in a minuscule moment like this. She grabbed the nearest oven mitt— yellow, with a sunflower design all over. It clashed with her aesthetic for sure, but safety before fashion.
Dom pulled the salmon out and poked it with a fork.
“yeah, I think it’s done. I’ll take it out and let it cool. Get yourself a plate.”
You did as you were told, and you filled your plate up with vegetables and rice and your piece of salmon.
“Are you going to eat anything?” You asked Dominique.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You sure?”
“If I want some food, I’ll take it from you later, and besides, I only need blood to survive.” She reminded you.
“Have you drank lately? Do you need to? You can have some of my blood while we watch a movie, I don’t mind,” You told her as you took your plate and headed to your bedroom.
“I’m fine, pumpkin.” She shut the door behind you, put a random movie in the tv’s tape player, and made herself comfortable on your bed.
“Besides, I don’t want to drink from you right now, it will affect your mood… and I want you to get better… Okay?”
“Oh. Okay.”
Dominique stroked your cheek, “Don’t feel bad, (Y/N). I can get blood from anyone… but I can only get one of you, and I want you to be happy. You’re my girlfriend, I care about you a lot.”
You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or not.
Dom wasn’t always the best with words, and she had a bit of trouble saying “I love you”, which you didn’t mind. She showed she loved you in other ways than just words. Like coming over with movies and blankets because you said you weren’t feeling good, or washing your hair for you, or cooking you dinner.
“Thank you. I love you.”
“Mhmm,” She wrapped an arm around you and kissed your forehead.
#the lost boys#the lost girls#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys movie#tlg#tlb#david the lost boys#dominique the lost girls#the lost boys oneshot#x reader#vampires#vampire#the lost boys (1987)#the lost boys x reader#the lost girls x reader#fluff#comfort#lost boys#lost girls#lost boys fic#lost girls fic
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learn to love; jungkook | 04
pairing: teacher!jungkook x singleparent!reader
genre: angst, fluff
word count: 3.5K
summary: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.
lowercase intended.
psst! this chapter is a game-changer AND has a character named after one of my followers! i hope she sees it and enjoys it. 💞
01 | 02 | 03
your alarm clock woke you, it’s piercing siren startling your eyes wide. groaning and fluttering your eyes to adjust to the sudden morning rays warming your somnolent face, you glared at the flashing red numbers across from you, reading a proud eight a.m. “fuck,” you mumbled, sinking your head into your pillow. your head pounded sparingly as you buried your head further, your attempt at drowning out the gentle pain failing.
what had happened last night? nothing devastating. you're not one to irrationally act out; you always think about seyoung first. the last thing you can recall is throwing your shoes off and bag to the floor and essentially passing out on your bed after attending a team dinner. your days never seem to end, it just feels as though you have small pockets of time to breathe in between your busy schedule. when your five-minute break is up, though, it's back to work.
you slowly arose from your cozy, welcoming bed and stared at the pillow sitting next to you, one that you'd clung to all night judging from its evident crumpled form in comparison to the other pillows sprawled across your bed. ouch. it sits where hoseok would lay.
shaking your head to ensure you wouldn't have any regressive thoughts at eight in the morning, you pulled your comforter back, swinging your legs across the bed and perching comfortably on its edge. gazing at your feet, you sighed quietly, thanking the heavens it was saturday but dually cursing it for your support group session being today. you hadn't told anyone about it, not even sooyoung. this was for you, and you alone. you trudged from your bed to the master bathroom, scrubbing your teeth.
it was at this moment that the sweet aroma of a saturday morning breakfast wafted from your kitchen to your bedroom. you inhaled it peacefully, the fragrance calming you and clearing your mind. you finally left your bedroom, shuffling towards your kitchen and living room. you silently apologized to the heavens for scolding it about the support group and thanked it once more, being reminded that you wouldn't know what to do half the time without sooyoung.
"morning!" a voice sang from your kitchen. "i see the zombie finally decided to rise from sleep?" it chuckled, the sound of what seemed like waffles sizzling. your stomach growled at the thought of biting into one and you returned sooyoung's laugh, the patter of your daughter's feet against the tiled floor growing louder as she ran towards you. "seyoung, be careful! i don't want you slipping!"
"it's okay, sooyoung auntie!" your daughter assured, her smaller frame finally finding you. "mom!" she giggled excitedly as she wrapped her arms around your waist, tugging affectionately. "you're finally awake!" she moaned, pulling on your large cotton shirt. "you know, i thought you died! so i called sooyoung auntie, and she told me you were alive. but i didn't believe her, so i asked her to prove it! and she told me she couldn't prove it this early in the morning. it wasn't even that early!"
"seyoung-ah, what part of four in the morning isn't early to you?" sooyoung complained, her voice ringing through your home, body still not in view. peeking her head past a pillar separating the three of you, she scowled, annoyed, slapping another waffle onto a stack on a plate. "i was busy dreaming my dreams and this little one wakes me from my beauty sleep! at four in the morning! seyoung, if i didn't love you so much, who knows what i'd do!" she groaned. you and your daughter chuckled in unison, her small hand dragging you to the table to sit with her and sooyoung.
"this is the first time i've made blueberry waffles, so don't expect a master chef level plate," sooyoung grinned as she placed the large pile of waffles in the middle of the table. "seyoung was okay with normal waffles up until she spotted the blueberries in the fridge. after that, she wouldn't stop tormenting me to add them in!" she joked, sitting down across from you.
"torment?!" seyoung squealed, eyes wide, a smile cracking across her cheeks. "all i wanted was some pancakes, auntie!" she pat the table playfully, sooyoung pinching her cheek lovingly. "and, you said yes!"
"and, i said yes," sooyoung repeated, looking over at you. "you both know i can't say no to seyoung! it's like refusing to eat a feast in front of you after you haven't eaten for days. what do you expect me to do? starve?" she jested, earning an eye roll and a grin from you. no one failed to make you laugh like your very dramatic sooyoung.
"yeah, yeah." you bantered, serving yourself two warm pancakes. "gosh, sooyoung, these smell incredible," you gushed as you cut a piece swiftly, wanting to savor it immediately. it instantly melted in your mouth, the flavor of the warm fruit bursting into your mouth. you smiled brightly, chewing vigorously and holding up a cheerful thumbs-up. your daughter did the same, earning a giggle from sooyoung as she studied the two of you.
"you guys look exactly alike," she murmured as she took a portion of waffle into her mouth, nibbling contentedly. swallowing, she continued, "just the same. it's like someone copy-paste in real life."
seyoung turned to you, her face crinkled into a joyous grin. she placed her petite hand on top of yours, squeezing it tenderly. "i'm pretty, just like her! my mom is the prettiest lady in the world."
"that she is!" sooyoung chimed in agreement, pointing her fork with a half-eaten chunk of waffle on it at seyoung. "no one can compare, except for me. i humbly accept second place, madam (y/n)." she bowed teasingly.
"no, seyoung, you're the prettiest! and what about yebin? she's pretty too, right?" as much as you hated mentioning yebin, you knew you had to encourage seyoung to form a relationship with her 'step-mom'. you had to be the bigger person and you have to ignore the urge to scream at her every time you see her face. that's what being an adult is. hiding your feelings and pretending that you're generally okay.
"eh," seyoung dragged, filling her mouth with a large piece of waffle. "not as pretty as you," she assured between chews. "yebin's scary when she takes off her makeup." her unintentional attack on yebin prompted sooyoung to sputter in amusement, bursting into laughter.
"you're even starting to talk like your mom!" sooyoung exclaimed, resting her head on the table to mask her cackling. "i can't," she gasped, throwing her head back and covering her mouth. "you guys are getting more and more alike every day!"
you smiled at your excited daughter, who was now drawing a large smiley face using maple syrup on her plate. admiring your best friend cackling in front of you and your daughter being undeniably herself, you sat contempt, knowing life was good for the time being.
"next time?" sooyoung started as she slipped on her shoes, her purse dangling from her shoulder. "call me. if you ever need an extra hand around here, i'll come as soon as i can. promise you'll call?"
"promise." you reassured, nodding politely. seyoung hovered behind you waving to her beloved aunt as she departed. "thanks for the breakfast and lunch, soo. you know i couldn't have done it without you." you dart your head around to spot your daughter, finding her peering behind your leg. "seyoung, say bye to sooyoung!"
"bye, sooyoung auntie! come back soon! i want to make chocolate pancakes next!" seyoung called as sooyoung walked to her uber. "please come back!" seyoung repeated hesitantly, "i won't wake you up early again!"
"good." sooyoung nodded, climbing into the passenger seat. "i'll see you monday, (y/n)! enjoy your weekend." sooyoung closed the door of the car and the uber sped off, you and your daughter lingering in your front lawn until she was out of sight.
"what are we gonna do today, mommy?" seyoung turned to you, eyes full of curiosity.
"well, i wanted to keep it a surprise, but i may or may not have scheduled a sleepover for you and ailee!" you exclaimed, grabbing your daughter's hands excitedly.
"a sleepover?!" she squeaked, ecstatic as ever. "a sleepover with ailee!" seyoung jumped up and down, her pigtails swaying. "thank you, mommy, thank you!" she followed you inside, slipping off her sandals. you glanced at the clock, noting that it was currently around two o'clock.
"ailee's mom expects us at four, so go and get ready! i'll drop you off." you smiled, leading her towards her bathroom.
"you're not staying? even for a little bit?" seyoung turned, pouting. "why? are you not friends with ailee's mom?"
"no, no, ailee's mom and i are still friends! mommy just has a lot of work to do." you reasoned, crouching down to eye-level with your daughter. "i wish i could stay, baby, but duty calls!"
"okay," she replied half-dejectedly, waddling into her room to fetch her clothes to shower. you felt relieved your daughter hadn't tried to pry. you were just getting help for the two of you.
seyoung, excited as ever to finally have reached ailee's house, practically leaped out of her car seat and beelined towards the door. you dashed after her, finding it difficult to keep track of locking your car and your wild daughter all at once. "seyoung-ah!" you called sternly, making her almost immediately stop and apologize profusely. after assuring her that she didn't make any large mistake, you took her by the hand and led her to the front door, making sure she walked confidently next to you — a tip you'd read in a parenting journal.
the door swung open as excited squeals sounded from either side, ailee and seyoung basically grabbing each other to hug tightly. chuckling at the two running off to play, seyoung's backpack still in your hand, you glanced at ailee's mother, mai. "they're really excited, huh?" she exclaimed, watching them clamber up the stairs. "here, let me take that," she offered.
"of course!" you replied, placing the bag in her hand. "i can't thank you enough for taking seyoung in today. i would've called her nanny, but today was so busy, and —"
"it's no issue," mai interrupted, smiling assuringly. "we all know how hard you work. and after you alone juggled both of our kids after my husband's accident, well," she turned, making sure your kids weren't there. "it's the least i could do. do you want to come in? i can get some coffee going,"
"i'd love to, but i can't," you explained. "i've got a meeting of sorts to get to soon. i'll pick seyoung up around ten tomorrow?" you asked, adjusting the sleeve of your sweater.
"that works perfectly. call me if there's anything important!" she called, waving to you as you departed towards your car.
"likewise!" you responded, waving politely and climbing into your car, waiting until their front door shut. why did you always find yourself on the verge of losing it in this exact position? in front of mai's house, in your car, right in front of the wheel. and, mimicking the way you always react to these situations, you rubbed the leather of your steering wheel, stopping yourself from resting your forehead against the horn and letting it ring until you felt satisfied. it was time to go to that potential shitshow of a support group, and you didn't know how to feel. pain? fear?
you thought your divorce from hoseok would be the worst you've ever felt. and granted, it partially was, but at least you were sure of yourself. sure that you didn't want anything to do with this anymore, regardless of how much you loved him. but now? you didn't even know if you wanted this. the worst feeling to you was clear now; it was uncertainty, because uncertainty can corrode you and all your confidence in ways nothing else can.
and, again mimicking the way you always react to these situations, you pressed the gas and drove, preparing yourself for both the worst and the best.
the community center was cold. that was your first thought.
dozens of people filed into the large auditorium, all trying to catch a glimpse of the one directory they offered to guide attendees to their respective support groups. after standing on your toes for what felt like hours, you finally read, 'divorcees and widow(er)s support group, room 613'. you found your place to go, but did you really want to walk into that room?
there that uncertainty went again, eating away at your confidence like a parasite.
you have to go, you reasoned to yourself it's not just for you, it's for seyoung. she'll catch on to what's going on eventually, you can't let her see you weak! with the reminder of seyoung fresh in your mind, you took the elevator to the sixth floor and searched thoroughly for room 613.
"excuse me?" a voice asked from behind you, startling you. "are you lost? 'cause i am, too."
you snorted at their comment, turning around to face them fully. a tall, muscular man stood in front of you, voice deep, hair slicked back handsomely. "oh," you muttered, stepping back to make eye contact more comfortably. "yeah, you could say i'm lost," you nodded, darting your head to either side of the hallway. "i'm looking for room 613. do you know where that is?"
"613? i'm headed there myself," he replied awkwardly. the two of you stood together silently, both not knowing what to say in panicked silence. "i, uh, i'm park chanyeol." he introduced himself bluntly, offering his hand.
hesitating, you finally took his hand, shaking it firmly, the way you do with customers or partners. "i'm (y/n) (l/n)." you responded.
"(y/n) (l/n)," he repeated, looking towards the ceiling. "that sounds familiar, do i know you?"
you cringed internally. one of the reasons you became a producer was to avoid being recognized in public, to avoid the constant attention, to avoid the all-eyes-on-you treatment artists are forced to undergo. so, as a result, when someone does recognize your name, you get a sudden urge to become a hermit. "long story short, i'm a producer."
"ah, i see." chanyeol replied, hearing the hint of apprehension in your voice. "well, (y/n) (l/n), we're in the same boat, so let's find the room together." thankful he understood your tone, you set off with chanyeol, trekking across the hallway to find the infamous room 613. to your annoyance and surprise, the room seemed to be hidden away from the rest of the hallway, and out of numerical order.
chanyeol opened the door for you and let the both of you in. room 613 was larger than what you expected; the room seemed to be at least three times as big as the other rooms, with many people filling up seats and talking amongst themselves. you didn't expect this many people to ever show up to a support group, but you stood corrected. not knowing where to go, you glanced at chanyeol, who motioned for the two of you to head over to the tables supervisors had set up, which were lined with water and general snacks.
pouring two plastic cups of water for the both of you, you looked again at chanyeol, who was tapping his foot on the floor, glancing at the clock restlessly. "hey," you started, immediately getting his full attention. "tell me about yourself, chanyeol."
a small silence between the two of you.
"but, only if you're comfortable!" you stammered, hoping, praying that you didn't push any buttons within the first hour of meeting someone.
he laughed at your uneasiness, dimples revealing themselves. "it's no big deal. uh, my wife and i recently divorced after i caught her cheating on me. is this it? is this the sharing thing they wanted us to do?"
you chuckled, amused. "yeah, i think it is. and, it's a small world; the exact thing happened to me, but with my husband. do you have any kids? i have a daughter."
"thankfully no," chanyeol answered, now visibly more comfortable. "we were planning on it, but that was before she cheated on me,"
you nodded, understanding where he's coming from. you never told hoseok, but you'd always wanted to have a son with him alongside seyoung. and, like chanyeol, you never got there because of someone else's mistake. "i'm sorry you had to go through that." you sympathized.
"i just need this to finally get over everything. i'm sorry you had to go through that too, especially because you have a daughter," he stated, caressing the back of his neck. "hey, if you can do it, so can i, right?"
"yeah. and if you can do it, so can i." you repeated, smiling at him. the two of you shared a laugh at your new paired saying as the facilitator called everyone to the circle of chairs in the middle of the room, asking everyone to take a seat. you and chanyeol sat side-by-side, the both of you somewhat relieved that you weren't in this completely alone. at least there was someone who gets how you're feeling and just how painful it can be.
"hi, everyone!" the facilitator's voice echoed through the room, loud, clear, and confident. "my name is lee chaerin, and i'll be the 'leader', if you will, of today's support group! a reminder, in case some of you are unsure, this is the divorcee, widow, and widower support group. if you're in the wrong room, please consult the new directory outside!" she announced. as a few people shuffled quietly out of the room to find their place elsewhere, she clasped her hands together. "again, my name is lee chaerin. i'm a trained psychologist and have been studying psychology for nearly twelve years at this point. cool, huh? my hope for this support group is that i help all of you heal, even if it's just a little. i want to make sure that all of you are okay, and can help each other while helping yourself!" she rested her hands on her hips and smiled, sighing contentedly. "i know that no one really wants to do this, but it's important. let's all go around the room and introduce ourselves, what we do, what happened, and what you hope to gain from this support group! after this, we'll split into groups to share our in detail stories and learn from each other. sounds like a plan? great."
that type of introduction was a nightmare in reality. ever since you were ten you despised introducing yourself that way, and today, once married with a daughter, you feel the same way. some things never change.
you weren't allowed to reach for your phone for the next two hours. they say that phones ruin the human experience because they allow an escape from awkward or undesirable situations. whoever 'they' are, they sure as hell are right.
you tried your best to pay attention to everyone's name and goals for the group. you wanted to, but with the number of people surrounding you and how much was on your mind, it was tiring to listen past their occupation.
"hi everyone, i'm youngjae," the conventional 'hi, youngjae' sounded from the group in a monotone state, defining the core of everyone's mood at this point of the support group. "i'm a songwriter for jyp entertainment, and my goal is to heal so i can focus on my job. my wife and i divorced after some internal issues." youngjae motioned to the man sitting next to him, nodding in his direction.
not that you'd know, though. you were staring at your feet.
"hi, everyone, my name is jeon jungkook." a man's voice stated, making your head shoot up from the ground. the sudden movement made his eyes dart towards yours, and the two of you sat frozen, only seeing each other, eyes locked. "i'm a teacher, and my goal is to stop thinking about her every day so i can move on." his voice became audibly quieter, but it didn't matter. the room was dead silent, anyway.
you couldn't even hold your mouth open. your jaw and chest tightened. you didn't expect him to be here.
you broke eye contact to eye his hands, his index finger and thumb of his right hand seemingly toying with a ring that was no longer there.
a ring that was no longer there.
your eyes met again. the air was tense and suffocating; the panic that filled only the two of you created an atmosphere only you and jungkook could feel.
he broke eye contact, his glance now on his lap. his voice now barely a whisper, he spoke, still loud enough for you to hear. "i lost my wife in a car accident about a year ago. she was hit by a truck while she was coming home to me."
—
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#kpop#bts#bts masterlist#bts series#bts au#bts oneshot#bts drabble#bts reactions#bts fluff#bts angst#bts smut#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#bts x reader#kpop icons#kpop masterlist#kpop bios#kpop rp#namjoon#seokjin#yoongi#hoseok. jimin#taehyung
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my contribution to the bapo timeline discourse bc i’m just gonna propose a timeline and will not be taking criticism <3 (under the cut bc this is gonna be a long post probably)
ok disclaimer I am quite stupid, however I’m gonna use my knowledge from my own 12 years in american public high school and what little info I have about american boarding schools/catholic schools that I have from my friends lol. so. idk.
i’m also gonna date songs/major events and i’m gonna be taking some “just trust me bro” liberties bc y’all are right it does NOT make that much sense.
January 6: Epiphany; this is like an actual holiday lol. like its always on the sixth. idk its good that this is the starting point bc its an actual date yknow? For the purposes of this timeline were going with that its early in the week, so lets go with Monday idk
January 6-13: You and I, Role of a Lifetime; so we’re all kinda in agreement that this timeline (at least the beginning) only really makes sense if you and i/role of a lifetime aren’t like. a singular moment and are instead multiple days. so yeah, of this first week, this is like. monday-next sunday ish yknow.
January 14: Auditions, Plain Jane Fatass; ok so having auditions for a spring musical right after kids get back from break actually makes perfect sense to me, like i can see it being like “ok take break to prepare so as soon as you come back we can have auditions so we can jump right into rehersals” yknow? and since the rave is clearly on a friday (”we’ll meet in tanya’s room on friday night”) so i’m going with the monday before.
as for pjf, i know it doesn’t make a ton of sense for them to get a two week late birthday package their first few weeks back from school, but hear me out it makes sense. the implication throughout this entire show is that the twins have decently shitty parents. from bits of dialogue (in this song in particular lol) i’m kinda inferring their the “only concerned with how their kids make them look to others” kind of neglectful. so I don’t think it’s too outside the realm of possibility that they went away for the holidays, didn’t bring the twins, and instead mailed them a birthday package and having it show up two weeks late. realistically the timing of this isnt that important and the explicit “two week” time frame could’ve been an exaggeration on nadia’s part to mock her shit parents (idk its in her character) basically ppl are a little two fixated on this imo but anyway. moving on.
January 18: Wonderland, A Quiet Night At Home, Rolling, Best Kept Secret; a very agreed upon point in the timeline. its the friday following the auditions. moving on.
January 21: Confession; also very agreed upon. the monday following the rave. moving on again
January 23: Portrait of a Girl; the date here is kinda arbitrary, but bc sister chantelle says “ok lets try to put yesterday’s rehearsal behind us” and i for the life of me cannot think of a scene she could be referring to (there’s none in the script either) that implies it wasn’t the same monday as confession (bc even in a boarding school i think holding extracurriculars that aren’t sports over the weekend (especially when they are no where near crunch time lol) is weird and not common) so i just picked a random day during the week
January 25: Birthday Bitch!, One Kiss, Are You There?; from matt’s line in wonderland, ivy’s birthday is a week after the rave. in my timeline that’s january 25th (an aquarius queen).
btw given all grown up’s “17, how will i manage?” ivy is 16 during 17 at her party, which is strange given shes a high school senior and seniors are typically 17 during 18. so either a) she skipped a grade, not an unheard of thing. or b) shes not a senior, shes just a junior who hangs out with a bunch of seniors, which is also pretty common. and looking through the script i can’t find any mention that she is also a senior, other than yknow she graduates with them, but she isn’t mentioned during the class ranking scene? so idk not that it really matters just a fun detail
February 3 (at night): 911 Emergency!; ok controversial. i know i like the joke about how its funny that peter having a weird dream when he was high prompted him to want to come out and really ruined his relationship with jason. BUT. i think the dream (despite it’s weirdness) would have a lot more meaning if it wasn’t the result of being really high, but if it was a dream he had like a week later as a result of a building sense of guilt/anxiety bc he told matt. also it fits better given later timeline things. (this timeline literally only exists if there are weird jumps in time that don’t make a ton of sense) (EDIT: I forgot one line about Jason crashing at ivys but fuck it forget that bitchass line this makes for more drama its staying this way)
February 4: Reputation Stain’d, Ever After; the next day following peter’s dream, idk what else to say, moving on.
February 25-28: Spring; another jump! i’m sorry but the only way for this to make sense logistically is for there to be quite a few time jumps! however, i also think this one works bc i think it gives time for everything from around ivy’s party and peter and jason’s break up to stew emotionally. like obviously a musical only has so much time to tell a story so the audience cannot see every realistic beat, but honestly i think it makes the whole thing a little more dramatic™ if there’s space for everything to settle, and for ivy to come and apologize and such. also, the reason it’s multiple days is bc in the script, ivy is trying to study (presumably for some sort of midterm) while nadia is playing, so that probably takes place a few days before they move out, so before finals. but in the script, jason and peter are packing and peter is leaving, so that part of the song/staging takes place on the 28th. yes, that’s weird, but we are clearly thinking more about the logistics of this school than the writers were so.
March 1: One; assuming st. cecilia’s works kinda like boarding schools here, they probably do staggered move out/move in, just bc that would be a lot to have people coming and going at once so it makes sense that peter left the day before, while jason and ivy are leaving the next day. also, given that peter is trying to call jason while he and ivy are banging, it’s probably been a hot minute since the actual break up, since peter was clearly very hurt by the whole thing, it would make sense (at least to me) that peter would reach out a month ish later, rather than like a few days later (you have to make so many assumptions to make this timeline work granted they aren’t super out there assumptions but still this is annoying)
March 1-25: Spring Break. the coworkers I have who are in boarding school work over their school breaks, which are longer than the public school breaks (which are only a week) so i put their spring break at 3 weeks. it makes sense, and it makes the later part of the timeline make sense.
I know i’m already halfway through this, but to me it makes sense for their to be quite a few time jumps in the story bc its a musical. they cannot show every day. there are a lot of other shows (particularly shows set in high schools) that are set over a whole school year, but if you just look at the events of the story that doesn’t make sense, so you have to imply that obviously they are not showing every little detail. moving on.
March 25: Wedding Bells, In The Hallway, Touch My Soul; peter wakes up from his nightmare in the church, so im assuming he fell asleep in church (like he almost did during epiphany). also it makes sense that class ranks are announced in late march-early april, I know my school announced ours in like, the first week or so of april? so yeah. moving on.
(from this point on i was giving myself a headache trying to make it make sense so its all weird from here!!)
April 4: See Me, Warning; the date doesn’t really matter here, I picked a random day in early april. the script said peter is calling from him and jason’s old dorm room, as he was picking up the last of his things, so he clearly made the roommate switch after school started (makes sense to me).
April 15-20 (approximately): Ivy finds out she’s pregnant. look google tells me on average people find out they are pregnant around 5-7 weeks after conception. i went with around 7 just so this timeline makes a tiny bit more sense given the later stuff, so yeah here we go.
May 4: Pilgrim’s Hands, God Don’t Make No Trash, All Grown Up, Promise, Once Upon A Time, Cross; a rough night for our heroes. so given sister chantelle saying “again? wonderful.” and nadia saying “i can’t believe you missed rehearsal again”, clearly ivy has been missing quite a few rehearsals, so for dramas sake maybe from when she found out she was pregnant? also i know i’ve been saying they wouldn’t have rehearsals on weekends, and given my weird timeline this would be a saturday, but its tech week so i’ll allow it.
May 5: Two Households, Bare, Queen Mab, A Glooming Peace; pretty self explanatory, and it makes sense to have the spring play in early may. rip jason.
May 11: Absolution; the day before graduation peter goes to confront the priest. gives him a small amount of time to start processing, and it makes sense it would be the night before, at least to me.
May 12: No Voice; i fucking hate this. “peter, we graduate next sunday” i hate that stupid fucking line. do you know that this timeline literally would be fine if it weren’t for that stupid fucking line? bc then, the school play would be in early may and graduation could be in late may-early june (when most high schools hold graduation) but no. keeping with continuity, they have to graduate the sunday following the school play. “peter we graduate in a month, are you really never gonna talk to me again?” would have been fine. but no, now we have beef. literally everything else about the end of this timeline being kinda weird would work itself out, except for the fucking graduation. god damn. anyway, may 12th, the graduate on may 12th which is really fucking weird bc of that one fucking line. whatever. i didn’t write the damn thing bc if i did i wouldn’t have written that fucking line. (i’ve been at this for over an hour and a half, so i’m a tad annoyed, can you tell?)
anyway, that’s it. that’s my long as hell proposed bare timeline. if there’s anything glaringly wrong with it i don’t care bc this timeline literally cannot make sense. but honestly, now that i think about the Popular Tween High Schooler Musicals (heathers, bmc, deh) the timelines of those (especially heathers and bmc) don’t make tons of sense either. that’s just the way it is, that’s the way its gonna be. and we have to live with it.
this post is so long it is actually slowing down my laptop as i type it
#bare a pop opera#bapo#me speaks#i stg there is no real way to make this timeline make sense#a whole lotta this is#it makes sense bro trust me bro#also apologies if this is hard to read i am not very good at phrasing things over text#or at all
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Only the Light: Ch. 21
21/? | AU where Melissa moves in with Scully after Scully’s abduction | angst, msr slow-burn, occasional fluff | currently: mid-s3 (canon-divergent) | T | 4.8k | previous chapters | read on ao3 | tagging: @today-in-fic
Hello, here is my ‘I didn’t plan for updates to take two weeks, but it always works out to two weeks’ post, right on time. Almost finished with this journey, thank you for sticking around <3
As Mulder helps care for his ill partner and her child, he enlists the Lone Gunmen to investigate the circumstances surrounding Scully's diagnosis. He and Melissa pay a visit to the three men, then Mulder gets an unwanted surprise back at apartment 42.
-------------------
As Scully’s world has shrunk, the amount of love in it has grown. This is small consolation for the hell she’s enduring, but it is the only antidote. She realizes this now that she’s staring down the abyss: all the knowledge in the world won’t save you, and wealth is nothing but a false comfort. What will live on are the parts of herself she’s left with others. Her goal for her remaining time, however long that may be, is to hold tight to those she loves...not to slip away until her heart stops beating.
This is hard when she already feels like less of herself. She’s doing chemo twice a week at Georgetown, and it’s brutal. She knew it would be...her only other choice is to get that gravestone of hers re-engraved.
Meanwhile, Mulder pushed all other work aside to get in contact with the Mufon women. It only took him one day to do so, but Scully doesn’t know that, and for now, she doesn’t need to know. He’s keeping what he’s learned so far to himself...Betsy Hagopian is dead and has been since shortly after Scully saw her. Penny Northern is sick and not responding to treatment. A handful of other women, abductees like Scully, have developed rare cancers too.
It’s not something he knows how to talk about, such despondency. His world has always hinged on hope. That’s what his work on the X-Files is to him, one big leap of faith toward his sister. Or was, before Scully came along. It’s not that she diverted him from Samantha...no, she turned a very personal quest into something larger than him. Or her, or any one person they worked with. She pared it down to its core value, its overarching mission: the truth. Because the truth may hurt at first, but given time, it heals. And it is the only path to healing. This is what he’s learned from her. And now, he’s got to do everything he can to pass the revitalized world she’s shown him onto her.
The arrangement falls into place without any friction: Missy handles the chemo run on Monday mornings, and Mulder leaves work early on Thursdays. Emily spends Mondays with her grandma, and Thursdays too when Missy works the night shift.
Thursdays become something of a spiritual day for Mulder. The hours of approximately 3-10pm are spent doting on his partner--in her apartment, and then his car, then the hospital and his car again, and finally, back to her apartment. Mama Scully brings Emily back around eight, and if Missy’s not home, Mulder gets the honor of the bedtime ritual. The domesticity of it all tethers him to reality, maybe for the first time in his life. He’d give anything to change the circumstances, but it’s humbling to feel--for once--that he belongs on Earth.
It is on one of these Thursday evenings that Mulder could swear he feels his whole life trailing behind him, leading him to the present. The end of the year is creeping up in its usual fashion, which means the outside world is a blanket of darkness before the stoves of countless suburban homes have even been started. Having settled her comfortably into bed with a pile of pillows, Mulder carries his partner a glass of water and pulls the wastebasket to her side; this is their routine now.
“You doing okay?” he asks, lingering as she takes a sip of water. It will soon be time to make himself scarce so she can sleep.
She nods, gurgles a garbled affirmation. Mulder turns to go, and her heart leaps to her throat. “Will you stay?” she spews, embarrassed by her need.
“Of course.” She’s unaware, apparently, that when he leaves it’s for her, not him. He approaches her bedside, lowers himself carefully beside her knees. “Any particular reason?” he murmurs, examining the sunken spaces beneath her eyes.
“I just...wanted to talk to you,” she says, and Mulder thinks there might be a bit more color in her cheeks than there was yesterday.
“Okay.” He leans in and sweeps a strand of hair off her forehead so lightly that Scully doesn’t even feel it. She’s apprehensive about being touched these days, and he has taken this knowledge to heart. She is grateful, and to show the extent of this feeling, she strokes his hand, allows him to take hers in his. He runs his thumb over each finger as they continue.
He wants to ask what she’s thinking about, what it is that has so graciously extended his stay in this room. But he knows that she’ll get to it, that she has nothing to keep from him now.
There’s a sincere serenity on her face that he’s never seen. And after a minute or two, she begins. “I didn’t think it could happen--and it certainly doesn’t make much sense-- but right now, I am happier than I have ever been.”
A string on Mulder’s heart, tightened to its prime, bursts without warning.
She caresses the back of his head. “It’s so trivial, Mulder. So much of what we call life isn’t living at all. Or at least not the important kind.”
He lifts his gaze, eye contact conveying more than he could with words.
“But I’ve thought about the parts of my life that are living, and all of them, in some way, come back to you.”
Mulder shakes his head, feeling too flattered. “That’s not true…”
“You can believe whatever you need to,” she whispers, “but it is the truth, and I am eternally grateful that you happened to me.”
He tries to cough away some tears, which works about a quarter as well as he hoped it would. “Hold on, little lady.” He pats her hand in response to her smile. “I think you happened to me.”
Scully’s chest flutters in laughter. “Did I?” These subtle things have always been so important to them.
“You walked into my office, remember.”
“Well, I guess it would depend on who changed the most due to the other’s influence then,” she reasons.
Mulder just gives her a look.
She smirks. “Okay, so maybe I happened to you, but you…” she chews her lip, and this could be any other day of any other year if she weren’t bedridden. She picks out her words-- “You completed me.”
Mulder spills forward, finding his footing and spinning into the middle of the room. “Holy fuck Scully, are you trying to kill me?”
“We’ve been searching for the truth. That’s the truth, Mulder. I wanted you to know.”
He sets his jaw. He won’t burst into tears in front of her, not when she has all the reason to cry and yet has been so strong.
“You should get some sleep,” he tells her, hoping to expedite his exit from the room.
“I will. And it’s okay to be sad, but not for me. My life is as whole as ever.”
He nods, though he doesn’t agree (what’s new?). He knew Samantha for eight years and has been sad for twenty. He’s known Scully for half that--so he gets at least a decade of mourning.
“Sweet dreams,” he says, resting his hands on the door frame. “I’ll bring Emily in when she gets here.”
“Okay.” She closes her eyes, smiles. “Love you.”
“Love you too, DKS.” He blows a kiss and slips out, heat flooding to his face. This is the first time she’s said that unprompted, and is that what the threat of imminent death does to you? Pries you open?
He wonders. Whose love is saving who?
-------------------------
The primetime line-up is flickering over the television when Mama Scully arrives with Emily, passing her granddaughter to Mulder like the family heirloom she is. They exchange a few words in short breaths, reserving the air supply for their dear Dana. Mama Scully agrees to come see her daughter this weekend rather than interrupt her much-needed rest now, and Mulder is suddenly single parent-slash-babysitter; the specifics elude him.
Perfumed with baby powder from her grandmother’s overly enthusiastic hand, Mulder concludes that Em needs neither bathing nor changing. She doesn’t seem very keen on sleep either, seeing as how her little voice keeps calling out Moldy! and her little fists clobber his shoulders. Still, he will keep his promise. He carries her into the room she shares with her mother, stepping lightly lest the floorboards creak.
As he circles the bed to lay the child beside her sleeping mother, he winces at the mess in the trash can. Good thing he moved it into place though Scully had seemed okay. He hadn’t heard any retching, and it saddens him that he wasn’t there to hold her hair back. He settles Em into place, makes a mental note to rinse the can on his way out.
Her characteristically light sleep lightened further by her illness, Scully stirs from the shift of Emily’s weight against the mattress. She rolls toward the free side and flutters her eyelids open. Her smile is reflexive.
“Hello baby girl,” she purrs. She lays a hand against her daughter’s polka-dotted onesie. “Did you have a good day with Grandma?”
Emily answers with some fluttery babbling and gropes for her mother’s nose.
“I don’t think she’s very tired,” Mulder remarks, hands in his pockets. He smirks. “We should really find out what your mother feeds her.”
Scully pulls her lips into a grin, exhibiting a great deal more effort than she did just moments before. She blinks, rubs her eyes, and seems to go out of the world for a second. Then she sets her gaze on Mulder and speaks dreamily--”Will you tell us a bedtime story?”
“Oh!” Mulder scratches his chin, having expected his dismissal. “Do you think that would help…?”
Scully presses her head into the pillow. “I’m not gonna be able to fall back asleep until she does.”
That is a yes, served with some condescension.
“Okay, well, let me think.” He perches on the side of the bed. “Regrettably, I did not get my degree in bedtime stories.”
“Just say what you know,” Scully mumbles. “We’re the only ones listening, and the goal is to put us to sleep.”
“I hope that’s not a comment on my conversational skills,” he teases, smoothing the sheets.
Again, there’s a look of otherworldliness from his partner. She is somewhere else.
“Go on, tell us a story,” she hums, her surprising lack of impatience attributable to an equal lack of wakefulness.
“Let’s see…” He stretches out, perching on his elbow by Scully’s feet like she did in the first motel they ever stayed in. Emily sits herself up and grasps for him. He laughs, lets her latch onto his fingers.
“There once was a little girl who loved horses and bugging her brother,” he begins. “Now, I’m sure she sounds like just about any little girl out there, but I promise, she was as unique as they come.”
Scully closes her eyes and tilts her head back to listen.
“She always said she wanted to be a butterfly when she grew up so she could spread her wings and fly. And her parents would scoff and tell her that would never be possible, but she believed. She believed it would happen.”
Emily babbles along, adding her own colorful commentary.
“I know, I know right?” Mulder muses to the little girl. “The parents were such jerks.”
He tickles Em’s stomach, then remembers that he’s supposed to be helping her go to sleep. He kisses her temple and begins stroking her knee, hoping to achieve a hypnotic rhythm.
“And so one day, this little girl...well, this little girl got to go on an adventure. She left behind her house and her family, and she got to go up to the sky and see the stars, and it was everything she wished for.”
Scully opens her eyes slowly. Mulder’s focus is centered on Emily, who stares up at him with the awe of a museum-goer seeing the Starry Night. It is as if they are the only two in the room, and this gives Scully great comfort, for she can imagine them having a life after she is gone.
“The girl’s family was sad because they didn’t know where she went. The girl’s brother missed her the most, but it was okay because the girl was happy. She got to fly through the sky like a bird or a plane, and she achieved the dream that her parents thought would never come true.”
Em’s breathing begins to slow into sleep. And thank god, cause he’s running out of story to tell.
“Lay down, little girl.” He guides her onto her back so she can drift off without difficulty, then clears his throat softly.
“Some say that if you see a light in the night sky, that’s this little girl, floating among the stars, living her dream. And her brother, well, he’s pretty fond of that thought. He just wants her to be happy.”
Silence falls over the room like a throbbing sensation of unknown origin. Emily’s eyelids struggle between open and closed, and Mulder knows she will soon be out. Scully’s baby blues, meanwhile, peer at him with such unflinching intensity that he suspects she has fallen asleep like that. It is haunting, but it becomes much less so when she blinks and he realizes that she’s looking at him, that she heard the whole story.
“Is that what you wanted?” he whispers, half expecting her not to answer.
“It was beautiful, Mulder. Samantha lives on.”
He smiles from his eyes...oh, of course it was obvious, his little tribute to his sister. Scully said to work from what he knew, and this myth is something he’s used to keep himself going since his family realized that there would be no happy reunion with Sam. He’s happy to share his fantasy; such escapes are needed now.
----------------------
Melissa’s heart leaps when she opens the apartment door to an empty living room. The TV drones out its slapstick laugh track, contributing to the ominous atmosphere. She’d expect to see Mulder taking up a restless refuge on the couch, or maybe sneaking a late night snack to Em. Her sister should be fast asleep by now, her little world able to slacken its hold on her. Unless she is no longer afforded such luxury…
Missy rushes toward Dana’s bedroom, her purse still on her shoulder. In the doorway she slows as her eyes adjust to the lack of light. And thank goodness because three silhouettes catch her eye; a medium one buried under the covers, a large one strewn diagonally across the bed, and a small bump barely visible on the far side. A snore of unidentifiable origin is the only disturbance. Missy smiles to herself. All the missing persons are accounted for and well. She can continue with the blissfully bland routine of her night.
She washes her face and brews some chamomile before settling on the couch with the week’s issues of Mad Magazine and Vogue. Yes, she contains multitudes. She’s up to the Spy vs. Spy comic when Mulder strolls in, yawning.
“I guess my bedtime story was effective.”
“Mmm.” Missy scoots her mug over so he can prop his feet up. Dana hates feet on furniture, but she’s got a child in the house now, so she’ll have to let go of those judgments. “How is she?”
“Oh shit.” She’s jogged something in his memory. “I meant to grab the trash can on the way out.”
Missy knows what this means. “I’ll get it in a second.”
Mulder nods in silent gratitude, relaxes back into his spot. “She seemed livelier than usual when we got home.”
It hits him that he said home, not back. And well, it is Scully’s home. What about him? He sleeps on the couch and he doesn’t pay rent...that’s how he lived at Oxford, though he gets the feeling that it’s not as evergreen at thirty-three years old.
These days, he only goes to his place on Sunday nights to get (what he considers) a week’s worth of clothing--two work outfits (hey, he never really sees anyone but Scully anyway) and one casual outfit that doubles as pajamas. He bought a bunch of fish feeding tablets so all he has to do is drop a few in on Sunday and the fish are set for the week. As far as he can tell, at least. None of them have floated to the top of the tank yet.
“And Em is all good?” Missy confirms.
Mulder nods. “Your mom takes good care of her.”
“I think I know the answer to this, but do you want some tea?” Missy asks, flashing her mug.
“No, no, save it for yourself.”
“Alright.” She flips a page in her magazine. “Just let me know when you’re ready to kick me out. Since I’m kind of in your bed and all.”
“I should be telling you that,” Mulder counters. “You don’t mind me staying here, do you?”
“Not at all.” Missy lays the magazine on the table. “It’s important that you’re around.”
“Really?...For what?”
“For who,” Missy corrects. “Emily needs you to give her balance, and Dana...she just needs you. You’re the safety net under her tightrope.”
“Oh.” This metaphor grounds Mulder better than gravity ever has.
Missy seems to sense this and takes the opportunity to profit off his vulnerability. “So what’s gone on between you?” she asks, an eyebrow arched.
Mulder squints at her. “Huh?”
“I keep waiting for Dana to kick you out or get irritated about you being around all the time,” Missy says with honest simplicity. “But instead, she lets you take her to chemo and fall asleep in her bed…”
“Well, I think the former is more ideal than the alternative, which is that I watch her child,” Mulder replies. “And I fell asleep on the bed, not in it.”
“Okay.” Missy sips her tea, keeps her eyes on him.
It’s pointless for Mulder to try to keep secrets anymore. He wrings out his hands. “If you must know, when you dropped her off at my apartment after her appointment, we... came to a mutual understanding.”
“Ah.” Missy is not surprised by any of it. Of course it happened. Of course her sister hasn’t mentioned it.
“Why are you just asking about this now?”
“Cause I expected my suspicions to be proven wrong, and that hasn’t happened.”
Mulder nods, taps absentmindedly on his knee. “Actually, I have something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
“Oh?” She’s intrigued. The enigmatic Fox Mulder, divulging on his own accord.
“Don’t get excited, it’s not good.”
Damn. Missy reels herself in. “About Dana?”
“About what happened to her or...what is happening to her. It’s about the Mufon women.”
Missy curls her legs beneath herself. “You reached them?”
He nods. “Well, Penny Northern’s hospice nurse picked up when I called. She’s got stage four tumors throughout her body that migrated from her nasopharynx.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Apparently most of the other abductees have cancer too. And Betsy Hagopian--the woman who Scully saw in the hospital last spring--is dead.”
Missy’s gaze drops to the floor. “So the invasive procedures that the abductors did are killing these women.”
“One doctor’s treating them all--he’s supposed to be a specialist--but it doesn’t look like he’s having much success.” Mulder pauses, his mouth partially open.
“What?” Missy presses.
“The Lone Gunmen and I have been looking into him, and we think that he might have been involved in the abductions.”
Missy barrels forward. “You think he did this to them on purpose and now he’s letting them die?”
Mulder nods solemnly.
“Well, we have to stop him. We can’t let any more patients go to him, especially Dana…”
“I know. I’m going down to see the Lone Gunmen tomorrow after work if you want to join me.”
Missy contemplates. “I have the lunch shift tomorrow, so I could. What would we tell Dana?”
“I’ll say that Skinner is keeping me late to go over some paperwork. You could say whatever, she’s not going to question you.”
“I hate to leave her alone for so long, but...yeah, we have to do this.” She leans back, takes another look at Mulder. “You might just save a lot of women, you know.”
------------------------
Missy feels unseen eyes bore into her as she and Mulder approach the basement entrance of a helter-skelter building. She doesn’t recognize the part of town they’re in, and she doesn’t ask.
Mulder hits the button on a call box beside the door. Before he can speak, a voice leaps out at them.
“Howdy Mulderoony.” Mulder recognizes it as Frohike’s voice. “Glad to see you made it safely.”
A variety of locks and chains are undone, the door pulled open.
“Join our ménage a trois,” Frohike says, ushering them in.
“We can’t stay long,” Mulder tells them, squinting as he adjusts to the darkness of their realm. “You guys forget to pay the electric bill or something?”
“We’re conserving electricity,” Byers says, a shadow in the corner of the room. “It’s good for the environment.”
“I didn’t realize the environment was on your list of concerns.”
“It should be on everyone’s list of concerns,” Byers throws back matter-of-factly.
Mulder slides his hands into his pockets. “Touché.”
Ringo comes forward from the darkness, his hair as tressed and greasy as ever. “Well lookie here. Dana Scully in the flesh.”
Frohike inserts himself between them. “You can’t be serious, pool boy. That’s not her, I’d know her anywhere. It is, however, an equally lovely woman.” He takes Missy’s hand and kisses it. “My lady.”
Missy participates with amusement until Mulder brushes Frohike aside.
“Okay boys, lay off. This is Scully’s sister Melissa. And I believe she’s taken.”
Frohike bows. “A lucky man.”
“Woman,” Missy corrects.
“Oh. Excusez-moi."
Tucked in the darkness, Byers scoffs at the childish antics. “Come on, let’s cut to the chase. Lives are at stake.”
“I’m glad to see someone has a brain around here,” Mulder quips.
Ringo pats Mulder’s shoulder. “Not all of us got a full-ride to Oxford, but hey, I’d say we’ve done pretty well for ourselves.”
“Calm down, Ringo. You’d still be the smartest member of the Ramones.”
Like an unleashed dog, Ringo lunges forward, and Byers and Frohike pull him back. They are quite used to this.
“You can insult me, but never speak ill of the Ramones!” Ringo growls.
Mulder puts his hands up, smirks at the permission he’s been given. “Happily.”
Missy clears her throat, her amusement wearing thin. She’s like her sister in this way.
Mulder gets the memo. “Right. Can the trash talk, we’re here to catch a criminal.”
“If he is, in fact, a criminal,” Byers remarks.
Missy frowns. “Haven’t you proved that?”
“We’re connecting the dots, but we haven’t completed the picture yet,” Byers replies.
Mulder circles around to Byers’ monitor. “What have you got?”
“This doctor, Scanlon, isn’t just an oncologist,” Ringo begins, as if Mulder asked him. “His name is associated with the Lombard Research Facility.”
Mulder and Missy both give him a look. More, more!
“A high security medical research center in Allentown,” he clarifies.
“We’ve hacked into some of the security cameras,” Frohike tells them. “We’d have to get in to see for ourselves, but the activity is rather suspicious. The same men, in and out, at odd times. Whatever they’re storing in there, it’s significant.”
“Then let’s get in,” Mulder emphasizes. “You be the eyes and ears, I’ll be the legs.”
Ringo nods. “We’re working on it.”
“We need to observe their weekend patterns before we make any moves,” Byers insists. “We don’t set up our missions to fail.”
“Fine, but as soon as you’ve reached your confidence threshold--”
“We’ll call you,” Ringo promises.
“What are you expecting to find?” Missy asks, frenzied. “Will it help Dana?”
Frohike drums his fingers on the desk. “That’s the plan.”
Byers nods. “We can’t be sure exactly what we’ll find, but the connection is clear: Scanlon was involved with the abductions, and he’s exploiting these women for his own benefit.”
Melissa shivers involuntarily. “It’s amazing that you’ve figured this out.”
Ringo twirls a pencil through his hair. “We have a lot of free time on our hands.”
Mulder takes a shot at the mini-basketball hoop they have, misses. “And you’d better use it all to implicate Dr. Scanlon’s ass.”
Frohike does a two-finger salute. “Aye aye captain.”
Mulder thumbs toward the door. “Now we’ve gotta get out of here before the smell sticks to us. Scully will know exactly where we’ve been,” he smirks.
“Can’t argue with that.” Frohike shows them to the door. “Give the lady my regards.”
“Will do.” He turns back, exchanges a serious glance with each man. “Sort this out, boys.”
Just as quickly as they came, he and Melissa step out of the chambers and ascend back into the sun’s dominion. Entrusting those three with the well-being of a woman they love so much is far from ideal, and yet, they’re throwing all their faith into it.
---------------------------
Mulder slides his key into the door of apartment 42 shortly after seven on Sunday evening. He hasn’t been in for a week, and yet a vivid scent of...smoke sticks about the place. And a wrinkled mess of a man to go with it.
The old man lifts his chin. “I’ve been expecting you.”
Mulder is no longer naïve enough to be taken aback by Cancer Man’s ambush. He shrugs and slides his coat off. “Well, you are in my apartment.”
“I’ve heard that your partner is very sick,” CSM says, his steps so clunky that Mulder wonders whether the downstairs tenants will complain.
“What grapevine did you get that from?...Or are you the one growing the grapes?”
“It saddened me to hear. Agent Scully is a valuable member of the Bureau.”
Mulder nods. “You here to pass on your condolences? Cause I’m pretty sure you could just send a card.”
“I’m here to propose a solution...The doctors say your partner’s sickness is incurable. This is not true.”
“Smarter than the doctors, are you?”
“In this case I am.”
A bitter laugh rises from Mulder. “So I’m supposed to believe that you were involved in sickening Scully, yet you want to save her?”
“We all have our regrets.”
“And I have no reason to trust you.”
“Upon learning about her child, I feel a deep need to intervene.”
“Mmm.” Mulder begins to pace. “And by learning about her child, do you mean when Scully’s ova were removed and fertilized without her knowledge? Because I have a hard time believing that you didn’t know a thing about Emily until Scully got custody.”
“Certainly I did not foresee Emily ending up in her mother’s custody.”
“What was the purpose then, of Emily? To terrorize a woman by taking away her bodily autonomy?”
CSM shrugs. “That’s not my area.”
Mulder scoffs. “Okay you old freak. Tell me how to save Scully’s life or get the hell out of here.”
The wrinkled man folds his hands. “She had a silicone implant removed from her neck. Put it back in.”
Mulder freezes. “Are you serious? That’s your miracle cure?”
CSM nods. “It is the only way to save her life. Removing the implant is what caused the cancer in the first place.”
Mulder steps forward, getting in the old man’s face like a middle-school bully. He’s ready to throw a punch--honestly, ready to kill the man--if need be. He could do it. Easily. He could.
“What does the implant do, Cancer Man?”
“Believe it or not, it is meant as a sort of inoculation. It offsets the negative effects of any tests performed during the...time away.”
“Uh-huh, and what do you get from it?”
“Who says I get anything from it?”
“How else would you know that she had it removed?”
“I am everywhere, Agent Mulder.”
Mulder loses his thinly-veiled calm, wraps his hand around the man’s saggy neck. “You fucking pervert, I’ll kill you! I’ve killed a man before just like this. Tell me the truth.”
“This is the truth,” CSM wheezes, not intimidated by his rapidly deteriorating air flow. His cold, hard eyes stare into Mulder’s. “You wouldn’t kill a man over nothing, would you?”
Mulder squeezes harder, his fingers gripping the man’s pulse. He watches the light drain from his victim’s eyes. All the old bastard does is smirk at him.
Angered by this more than anything, Mulder releases the man so suddenly that his bony body is thrown into the wall. He keeps his footing, stumbles forward.
“Get out,” Mulder growls. When he doesn’t respond, Mulder pokes his finger at the door. “Get out now!”
CSM dusts himself off and walks out, the pompous smirk never leaving his face. Mulder slams the door shut behind him.
There are certain truths he cannot escape. If Scully has made him believe in Heaven, CSM has made him believe in Hell.
#sincerely hope i did the lone gunmen justice lol#also i feel like this chapter is...a normal episode amount of angsty instead of the slow paper cut of the last chapter#the x-files#only the light fic#missy and scully fic#txf#txf fic#fox mulder#dana scully#melissa scully#mine#eww this looks weird w/the tumblr update!!#read it on ao3 lol
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rough edges // v-day scenario (m)
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: college au, boyfriend jk
warnings: smut, sex, public sex, drinking, unprotected sex
word count: 8k (lol)
a/n: honestly just an excuse for me to write some smut. as promised, the valentines’ day scenario that was meant to be posted a month ago but i’m a chronic procrastinator. idk if this is good, i contemplated a lot before posting this. please wear a condom.
(a scenario from Rough Edges. but it’s fine to read without the backstory too)
❀
“Oh fuck,” You gasp, holding on to the table in front of you. You hear Jungkook chuckle, then he’s leaning in to kiss your shoulder from behind.
“That’s right baby.” He whispers against your ear. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You chew on your bottom lip, refusing to answer. Sweat drips down your cleavage and you close your eyes, trying to reach the release you’re looking for. Jungkook’s hips move in a slow rhythm against you, grinding into you while his hands cup your breasts over the fabric of your dress. It’s warm and stuffy in here. The absence of air moving in and out of the room makes it harder for you to breathe. It doesn’t help when Jungkook presses his chest against your back and you feel the heat radiating from his body.
Jungkook doesn’t get a reply. He grabs your face and turns your attention to him, “What’s wrong, princess?” You stifle a whine at the pet name. “You’ve been ignoring me all day.”
Again, silence. Instead, you roll your hips back, earning a groan from him. He lets you continue, pulling up your dress and bunching up the fabric above your hips to watch you fuck yourself against him. “Oh⎯” You sigh, bending over to get the right angle. The table acts as a support, holding on tight as you move back and forth, slamming your ass against his hips each time. Jungkook grunts and thrusts forward to meet you halfway.
He takes over when you slow down, ramming into you ruthlessly. “Mmff-uck, don’t stop,” you mutter, bringing your fingers to your clit, rubbing in circles. You feel the buildup reaching its peak and with the way your body tenses up, Jungkook can tell you’re close. He bottoms out with one deep thrust and you snap, mouth parting and body shaking as you reach your climax. He continues his movements in slow strokes as you let your body drop onto the table, riding out the wave, soft mewls escaping you.
Jungkook hovers above you, stroking the side of your face and tucking a curl behind your ear as you catch your breath. He kisses your temple, and you would melt at the tender gesture, if you weren’t mad at him. Once you can muster up the energy to lift yourself up, you place a hand against his abs and push him away till he slips out.
Still hard and covered in traces of you, Jungkook stands in his spot, watching as you step away. Without sparing him a second glane, you start cleaning yourself up. He’s confused, “Wait, what are you doing? Where are you going?”
“I’m late for track and field.” You say curtly.
“But...I’m not done.”
He hurries after you when you get ready to leave, grabbing you by the wrist. You look back at him with a frown, “What?”
“Did you just use me for sex? Cause that’s kinda hot.” You scoff unbelievably, rolling your eyes at him. You glance down, and he thinks you might change your mind and stay, but instead you reach over to grab your underwear scrunched up in his hand before abruptly leaving.
“Wait! What did I do?” Jungkook calls out, pulling his pants back up. He struggles and only manages to stick his head out the door, but you’re already down the hallway and turning into the stairs.
❀
After two whole days of avoiding Jungkook, you’re glad he’s making things easier for you by not chasing after you all around campus today. It seems strange that he isn’t, but you appreciate the peace. It took Jungkook the whole afternoon to figure out why you were so mad at him. He only found out when he got home that same day, when he reached for his phone which he’d left on his table over the weekend while he was at work.
“Crap.” He muttered to himself seeing the missed calls and texts you’d sent him three nights ago. “Valentine’s day!”
Since then, he’d sent you a string of apologies over text when you wouldn’t answer his calls. He waits for you outside your classes when the timing doesn’t clash with his, but you manage to slip away every time, determined to get away. You don’t plan on avoiding him forever. Just maybe until you don’t feel like stabbing him every time you see him.
You’re fishing for your keys outside the apartment when the door opens. “Oh.” Hana stops in her tracks, surprised to see you home so early. “You’re back.”
“Yeah, I skipped some project meetings. Really sleepy.” You smile, giving her a half-hug.
“Okay.” Hana says, nodding. “I’m gonna go...run some errands.”
“Sure.” You reply without thinking much, not realising the smile she’s biting back.
Heading straight for your room, you let your bag fall by the side of your door and shut the door behind you. You’re just about to unzip your jeans and slip into something more comfortable, until your eyes meet another pair of eyes staring at you from your bed.
“What the hell.” You mutter.
Jungkook sits up from where he lies on your bed, crossing his legs and smiling at you. “Hey beautiful.”
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” You gasp after a sudden realisation. “Hana…”
“I just need to talk to you for like a minute.” He says.
“Okay.” You shrug, looking at your watch. “One minute starts-”
“Babyyy,” he whines, crawling off your bed. You fit nicely between his legs when he pulls you in, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Come on, hear me out.”
You cross your arms and stay quiet, looking at the floor. His hands rest on your hips and he looks up at you with pleading eyes.
“I’m sorry,” He sighs. “I forgot all about the dinner we were supposed to have on Valentine’s Day. I went to work and I left my phone at home by accident so I didn’t see your calls or texts until Monday, after school. You were so angry and I couldn’t figure out why.” He chuckles. “Then I got home and saw all the missed calls and texts and I-”
You’re biting the inside of your cheek and looking at anywhere but him. But he doesn’t miss the tears welling up in your eyes before you can blink them away. “Oh fuck.” Taehyung didn’t prepare him for a crying girlfriend situation when he went to him for advice. “I don’t really know what else to say...I’m just really sorry. Please don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying!” Your curse inwardly when your voice shakes towards the end and you use the sleeves of your sweater to soak up the tears.
“Baby,” he says gently, cupping your face. “I’m really sorry. I love you so much, you know I wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you. Please forgive me?”
He pulls you in closer and leans his head against your tummy. You sigh. A part of you wants him to hug you till you feel better but the other half wants to kick him out of the apartment. You had spent weeks planning the perfect date for Valentine’s. Everything was set. All Jungkook had to do was show up. But he didn’t.
“If it makes you feel any better,” he lifts his head up to look at you again. “A teacher walked in on me after you stormed out. And now I have two weeks worth of detention.”
A tiny smile plays on your lips and he giggles, nose scrunching up when he grins. You go weak when he does that. “...is that for me?” you ask quietly, eyeing a bar of chocolate placed next to him. He almost forgets about it until you bring it up. He nods, handing you the bar of Snickers.
“It’s a peace offering,” he says, unwrapping it for you. “You like this, don’t you?”
“Thank you.” You say, nodding.
He smiles wide when you start eating and draws you in closer, leaving no space between your bodies. Pressing against your lower back, a hand positions itself under your thigh and he lifts it over his own leg, doing the same on the other side so that you’re straddling him. Being the whipped girlfriend that you are, you sure have missed him underneath all the anger.
He takes a deep breath against your chest and hums, missing the way you smell. It’s hard to keep a straight face when he does that. "Do you feel better now?"
You shake your head. "My boyfriend stood me up on Valentine's Day. What do you think?"
"Okay fair," he presses his lips together. "At least you're talking to me again."
You shrug, "I might change my mind in a few minutes."
"Don't. I miss you." He says. "I'm sorry…"
"I waited for hours," you say quietly, putting down the chocolate. Then you sigh dramatically, "I even wore matching underwear cause I thought we'd have bomb sex all night."
“Okay but we could still do that though! We’re already in bed.”
“No thanks.”
“Can I make it up to you?” He asks, “How about a date tomorrow afternoon?”
You laugh and roll your eyes at him. He cocks a brow at you questioningly. “Oh, you’re serious?” You ask with a hint of amusement in your tone that offends him for some reason.
“Why not?”
“Well, I mean...” You say, shrugging. He frowns, not liking this confession. “We always go to the same diner. Either that or take out. Then we eat in your car. Not that I’m complaining or anything, I do like those dates with you. But like...my date was way better.”
“I can plan a date! A proper one.” He argues, suddenly feeling challenged. The look of pity you give him makes him even more determined. “Stop giving me that look!”
“What look?”
“That⎯ ugh.” He grunts. He doesn’t understand what just happened. How did he come here to apologise to you, only for him to end up getting mad instead. Are you doing this on purpose to get back at him? Does he really suck at planning dates? He shakes his head. “Tomorrow. You’ll see. I’ll come and pick you up.”
“Okay, fine.” You say.
“Fine!”
You push yourself off him and sit on the bed, enjoying the rest of your chocolate, watching as he storms off. He disappears out your door for a good two seconds before sticking his head back in, “Just to be clear, is that bomb sex still on the table for tonight or…?”
“Get out.”
❀
“Now, before you say I told you so⎯”
“I knew it!” You giggle before he can defend himself and he watches as you let yourself fall into his arms, laughing. “Oh Jungkook. Don’t be so ambitious next time.” You say, patting his chest.
You give him props for dressing up, showing up in a nice button down shirt that fits him just nicely. You have on a cute yellow dress you wore the night of Valentine’s, and just seeing you in that dress makes him wish he could turn back time and make his past self show up at your door that night.
“It’s not my fault,” he reasons. “The places I wanted to take you to don’t take reservations on the day of.”
“Aw, it’s okay.” You reassure him when you enter the car. “We can just go get ramen or something.”
“You’re not mad?”
“No, I kinda figured this would happen.” You laugh and he pouts, starting the engine. “Plus, I still have the upper hand so I’m just gonna enjoy this.”
“Damn...getting stood up changed you.” He says and you snort, playfully hitting him on the arm With one hand on the steering wheel, he reaches for yours with the other. “We’re gonna have a good time, I promise.”
“It’s always a good time when we’re together.” You giggle, squeezing his hand in yours.
“Can you do me a favour?” He lets your hand go and reaches for something in the compartment between you. He hands you what seems like a piece of black cloth at first. When you unravel it, you realise it’s a blindfold. “Can you put that on until we arrive?”
“Aren’t we just getting ramen?”
“Yeah but...just pretend it’s a surprise so I don’t feel bad.”
You do as he says, even if you do find it redundant. The ride there seemed a little longer than usual, but Jungkook claims it’s only because you have your eyes covered and you can’t see where you are. Taking his word for it, you don’t think much about it after that. He helps you out of the car and through the doors of a building. But something doesn’t add up. “Jungkook, why don’t I smell ramen?”
“We’re just making a pit stop.”
“Hm.” You wonder. It’s hard not to be suspicious when you know you’re not where you’re supposed to be. The sound of an elevator door opening has you raising your brows. He guides you inside where you lean against the walls. Circling your arms around his waist, you pull him in closer and look up to where you guess his face would be. “Why do I feel a plot twist coming up?”
He chuckles, trapping you against the wall with his body pressing on yours. “Don’t worry, whatever it is, you’re safe with me.”
You smile, smoothing your hands over his chest. The strained buttons of his shirt are screaming for help. "To be honest, we should just forget about dinner. Seeing you in this outfit is good enough for me.”
"And you tell me this now?"
Leaning in to the side of your face, you can feel from his breath against your skin, how he moves from your ear down to your neck, planting soft kisses there. He chuckles when you gulp, noting the goosebumps that form on your skin and the way your pretty glossy lips parts.
Regretfully, he pulls back at the sound of the elevator reaching. Hugging his arm, you walk alongside him until he comes to a stop and tells you to stay put. His footsteps recede and you wait patiently without any clue of what’s about to happen. It feels slightly cooler than before, and you can hear sounds of the city, which you find odd considering you’re indoors. At least you think you are. Jungkook looks back at you from where he’s standing and smiles, then straightens himself up.
“Y/N.” He calls out. “You can remove the blindfold now.”
“Okay.” You slip it off carefully, taking a peek with one eye first, then the other. “Oh my god Jungkook...”
He definitely did not take you out for ramen. Jungkook stands a few feet away, with a bouquet of roses in hand. Behind him, you see a single table set in the middle of a beautiful rooftop restaurant. Decorated with fairy lights above and with a view of the skyline, overlooking parts of the city, it takes you a while to process it all, wondering if this is even real. “Happy belated Valentine’s Day.” Jungkook says.
He walks over and hands you the flowers, which you accept warmly. “Thank you. They’re lovely.” You say quietly and he grins, taking your hand in his, leading you to the table. It’s the only table, you realise, that is set up while the others remain empty. You take a seat as Jungkook pulls out the chair for you and pushes it back in. Across from you, he takes his place. “Why is it empty? Is it just us?”
“I rented out the place for this afternoon.” He says casually. You wait for him to tell you he’s joking.
“You did what?” You look at him in surprise.
He simply shrugs it off like it’s no big deal. “I have connections. I pulled some strings and called in a favour.”
A waiter comes by just then, stopping you from asking any further. He pours wine into your glasses, then informs you that your meals are being prepared and will be served soon. You haven’t even taken a look at the menu, much less ordered anything, so you figure Jungkook must have sorted that out. He winks at you as he takes a sip of his wine.
To your surprise, he made some pretty good choices. Of course, you can’t go wrong when you get a little of everything. Literally. He couldn’t decide on a main course, so he requested the chef whip up small portions of food from a list he prepared. The table is filled up with plates of food which you shared between the two of you. They served risotto, steak, pasta, black bean noodles, spicy chicken and meatball spaghetti. All of which Jungkook knows you like.
He was especially excited for the spaghetti and he tells you why, “We can do the thing, like in that movie you like.” Jungkook says and you don’t get what he’s talking about, until he places one end of the spaghetti in his mouth and using his fork, holds the other end out for you.
“Are you talking about the Lady and the Tramp?” He shrugs, gesturing for you to join him.
“Oh god…” You mutter to yourself, laughing as you take the other end in your mouth. You meet each other halfway, where the spaghetti cuts off and your lips touch. A tiny moment passes where you simply stare into each other’s eyes, then he swoops in for a second kiss. You sink back into your seat shyly, hoping that the staff hadn’t seen that little exchange.
The colour of the sky slowly changes as you’re enjoying your meal. You don’t even realise how quickly time passes until the fairy lights turn on. Against the backdrop of the skyline, Jungkook looks amazing sitting right in front of you. He feels the same about you, watching you fondly as you talk about why you love looking at the sky and how pretty everything looks from up here. You’re rambling like you always do when you’re excited but he doesn’t mind.
While you’re having ice cream for dessert, Jungkook rests his head against his hand and stares at you with a dreamy look across his face. “Jungkook, stop that…” You say quietly, looking at him from under your lashes. He ignores you because he loves seeing you flustered, so you try to ignore him but he isn’t subtle, even taking out his phone to take a photo of you as you eat.
When you’re done, Jungkook walks with you to the parapet, where you get the nicest view of the city. The sun is setting and the lovely golden hue is starting to fade into cool darkness. You lean against Jungkook’s arm and spend some time taking in the sights. He reaches over your shoulder after a while, so you lean on his chest and he rests his chin on your head.
“I’m sorry for missing our date.” He says after a while. “I know you put in a lot of effort, you cooked the food and everything.”
“I did.” You nod, looking at the roads below. “You know, I don’t really care for Valentine’s Day. But I thought I’d do something nice for the fun of it. So...yeah that really blew up in my face.”
“I'm so sorry.” He says, with a pained expression. “You know I would’ve come to you in a heartbeat if I remembered. Work has just been so hectic lately, I got distracted.”
“It’s okay,” you say with a shake of your head, “ I get it. Work’s important.”
“No, no. Baby listen.” He sighs, turning to face you and holds both your hands in his. “I don’t want you to think that you’re not important to me. You are. You, are the most important thing in my life.”
“I am?” You ask, feeling giddy and he responds with a nod. A smile makes its way onto your face and he places a kiss on the back of your hand. “It’s really alright Jungkook. I understand, you’re only human. I’m sorry too, for saying your dates suck. I actually really like those dates because I get to be with you, which is enough for me.” His heart swells at your words. “And, you really came through today.”
“Anything for you.” He grins with a smug look on his face.
You pull him into a hug, resting the side of your head on his chest while you look at the view. “This is amazing. Thank you for doing this.”
“So,” with a finger to your chin, he lifts your head up to look at him. “I’m forgiven, right?”
You sigh, running your hands down his chest. Then you stand on your toes and kiss him. “Almost.”
“Almost?” He asks as you wrap your arms around his neck.
You nod, smiling against his lips. “We just need to consummate this reconciliation.”
“Right,” he grins, “and just in case I have no idea what that means….”
You giggle and kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss until he feels your hand sliding down his front, down his chest and to his crotch. You smile giddily when he pulls away from the kiss, watching you with curious eyes. This isn’t something you would usually do in public where others can see you. It’s what he would do. But not you.
“What are you doing?” He asks, glancing over at the restaurant staff. They’re busy setting up for the incoming dinner crowd, thankfully, and not paying any attention to you. Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly when you squeeze his member over his pants. You don’t reply, and only bite your bottom lip in response. He narrows his eyes on you. “Are you drunk?”
“Am I gonna get some love from you tonight or what?” You ask, whispering against his lips.
He wants to laugh, but the look you’re giving him tells he shouldn’t be wasting anymore time. Interlacing your fingers together, he walks ahead, grabbing the flowers you left on the table and giving thanks to the staff and tips them on the way out. Reaching the lift landing, you stick to him like glue as you wait for it to arrive. Your lips hover over each other’s, neither making the first move. With a giggle, you break the staring contest first and appreciate the way his shirt hugs his figure nicely, feeling up his abs underneath. He can’t decide if he’s more entertained or turned on by this side of you.
“You’re so sexy,” you mutter to yourself, but loud enough for him to catch. “You should wear shirts more often.”
“Suggestion noted.” He says, nodding.
When the elevator arrives, he pushes you in, presses the button and pins you against the side. A hand moves to cup one side of your face, holding it up so he can kiss you. It’s gentle at first, until you’re biting on his bottom lip and sucking on it. He breathes hard, “Lucky for us, we won’t have to wait till we get home.”
“We don’t? You wanna do it here?” You ask, already unbuttoning the first button on his shirt.
“Don’t tempt me.” He says, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. He moves in on your neck, looking for that sweet spot. His search is cut short when the elevator stops on a level that’s not the lobby. He helps you back on your feet, then leads you down a hallway of apartments. He stops in front of one and keys in a code, gesturing for you to enter as the door clicks open.
"This is yours?" You ask, taking a look around the apartment. "It's nice."
You doubt it’s his. It’s well decorated with expensive looking furniture and decor accessories, but lacks any signs of having lived in.
"Not mine. Just borrowing for tonight." He says, locking up.
"Wait a minute," Your eyes land on the dining table which has a black backpack on it, that looks exactly like yours. You step closer to take a look, "Isn’t this mine?"
"Yup." He smiles, all smug. "Hana helped me pack and bring it over earlier.” You laugh. Of course she did. Inside, you find the clothes she’s packed for you to sleep in as well as something you could wear the next day. She’s amazing. Although, you do need to have a talk with Hana about how she’s supposed to be on your side and not Jungkook’s. She’s somehow developed a soft spot for Jungkook and you’re jealous because she should have a soft spot for you instead.
Jungkook heads for the kitchen and grabs your hand as he goes, finding two glasses and a bottle of wine sitting on the island. He pours some into the glasses and hands you one. You rest with your back against the island top and take a sip, watching Jungkook with alluring eyes.
“Let’s talk about how you walked out on me the other day, hm?” He asks, voice gentle. Moving in closer, his arms rest on both sides of you, trapping you in place.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smile. “I’m a good girl, you know.”
“Are you?” He licks his lips and your knees go weak.
You dodge when he moves in to kiss you, just to mess with him. His eyes go dark but before he makes another move, you duck under his arm, making a run for it. Halfway across the living area, you stop and turn, waiting for a reaction. There’s a wicked smile on his face; one that shows how serious he is, but he’s willing to play your game. When he starts coming after you, you giggle and run straight for the first room down the hall. But he’s quick and before you can shut the door, he’s squeezing through the gap and blocks you from doing so.
His strength is no match for you, easily pushing the door open so he can enter. You rush to get away before he can get his hands on you; which ironically, is what you really want. Standing by the foot of the bed, you wait, with your hands behind your back and head tilted to the side with a playful smile on your face. He decides to watch you, awaiting your next move.
Perhaps he underestimates what a few glasses of wine does for your confidence, you think. Slowly, your hands start undoing the zipper of your dress. He reacts ever so slightly to your bold move, forgetting how you can see the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he takes a gulp. It’s a painfully long wait, being able to only hear the sound of the zipper as it moves down, until it finally comes to a stop. You slip off a side of the sleeve over your shoulder, and then the other, letting the dress slip to the ground, leaving you in nothing but the necklace he gave you around your neck. “I skipped the matching underwear. Hope you don’t mind.”
His lips are pursed and he nods in approval as he steps closer, eyes roaming your body. Hands finding place on your waist, his thumb presses against your flesh and he watches as it sinks in. As eager as he is, he can’t help but feel something tugging at his heart when he looks at your face. Sure, you’ve had some drinks but behind the lust in your eyes, he sees you, the person who looks at him with the same endearment he looks at you with. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
“You look good too, but why do you still have clothes on?” You ask, quickly undoing the rest of his buttons.
“I’m trying to have a romantic moment here.” He shakes his head and laughs. He will never let you live this down. “Who knew you were a horny drunk…”
“I’m not drunk,” you pout. “Just a little tipsy.”
"I like her." He smiles, tracing your lips with his finger. "She's…spunky."
"You like her more than sober me?" You peel off his shirt and he lets it fall to the ground.
"I like all of you. Everything." He touches every part of you within reach as he holds you close, bringing you in for a kiss. You slip your tongue into the kiss and refuse to let him pull away, trapping him in your arms. But he's too strong, easily tearing your arms from around his neck. He climbs into bed with you in his arms and legs wrapped around his middle.
You’re straddling him at first, fighting his tongue for dominance until he finally cups your jaw and pulls you away. He adjusts your position, turning you around in his lap so that your back is pressed to his chest. You let him spread your legs, using his own to keep them apart and his fingers go straight to your cunt. It has you gasping at the touch. No time is wasted as he runs his fingers up and down your folds, taking his time to explore it. It doesn’t come as a surprise to see how wet you already are. He’s barely touched you but you’re slick enough to allow him two slide two fingers in. Your thighs threaten to close at the intrusion but he pushes them apart, sliding his fingers in and out of you easily. “Listen to that,” he says in your ear. The sound of your wetness gets louder as his fingers go faster. “You’re so dirty. Look at how wet you are already.”
You bite back a smile, slightly embarrassed but not sorry. He slips in another finger, making you sigh, yearning for more. His fingers move in a gentle rhythm at first, and you buck your hips forward, trying to get as much inside you as possible. When he removes them, you whine in protest and watch him with pleading eyes. Jungkook smiles, then goes back to running his fingers over your folds, this time giving more attention to your clit. Dropping your head back, leaning on his shoulder, you grab on to his arms, sinking your nails into his skin.
“Look at this mess.” He clicks his tongue, teasing your entrance with the pad of his finger, now dripping in your juice. You breathe hard, and almost cry out in annoyance when he slips only one finger in, up till the first knuckle just to watch you squirm.
“Stop teasing!” You huff, looking up at him. “Fuck me.”
Three fingers slip back into you without warning and you squirm, pushing up against him. “Shh, baby. Be a good girl and I’ll give it to you. Okay?”
You nod obediently, stifling back a whine. Still inside you, he lets you kiss him, “Please.”
How could he say no to those beautiful eyes? He removes his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking off every last trace of you as you watch him hungrily. The bed dips slightly when he moves to his feet to remove his pants, letting them fall to the floor. His underwear barely does its job of keeping his member in now that he’s hard. Once it’s off, you lick your lips at the sight of him, naked before you.
As he rejoins you back on the bed, he starts pumping himself in fast strokes, maintaining eye contact. Imagining him touching himself to you is what gets you off on your solo nights, and watching him do it right in front of you, makes blood your cunt throb in urgent need.
He reaches for a bottle of lube and condoms he placed on the nightstand and you chuckle. “You really prepared for this huh?”
“Of course I did. Can’t let my baby down again.” You swoon at his words, you always liked it when he referred to you as his baby. Sitting up, you place your lips on his in a gentle kiss which he smiles into. He unwraps the condom, but you snatch it from him and toss it aside. He watches as it flies across the room and falls to the ground, now unusable. “What are you doing?”
You only smile in response, squeezing lube over his cock and spreading it all over. He looks at you questioningly, then smiles wide. “Really?”
He didn’t think it was possible to get any more turned on than he already is, but your consenting nod makes things even more urgent. You lie on your back and stretch your arms out, motioning for him to come into your arms. Hands wrapping around your ankles, he tugs you down the sheets to get you closer before fitting himself between your legs, chest meeting yours and faces just an inch apart. You snake your arms around his shoulders and look at him with a fond smile. “Love you,” you say.
“Love you too,” he whispers against your lips, as he guides his cock to your entrance and slips inside slowly. Your eyes fall shut and moans leave your lips as he fills you up. His arm rests against the side of your face, hand softly running over your hair while he pays attention to your expression at every thrust. It feels like a bigger stretch for some reason and you try to get used to it.
A steady rhythm forms from the movement of his hips against yours. When the stretch becomes a bit more bearable, you open your eyes and meet his beautifully dark and lustful ones. He smiles his signature smile, and you cup one side of his face, fingers smoothing over his cheek.
Jungkook leans in to your touch and kisses the palm of your hand. He brings his head down to your chest and takes your left nipple into his mouth, licking the sensitive bud. You sigh, running your hand through his hair and over the back of his head. He gives attention to your other breast with his hands, tracing circles on your skin, eliciting goosebumps over the area.
You watch him as he changes his position, moving to his knees to hook his arms under your thighs. His thrusts slow down, but he pounds harder, staying inside you for a beat then pulling back to out to slam into you again. Your eyes stick to watching the way his body moves, abs tightening as he thrusts forward. It gets harder to breathe when your breath gets stuck in your throat every time his hips slap against yours. “You okay there?” He snickers, watching your efforts.
“Shut up.” You huff but can’t help a smile. “Try not to kill me, will you?”
“Can’t help it,” he mumbles, pushing down on your thighs, watching the way his cock disappears into your folds. “It feels so good baby.” He breathes.
The way he seems to get lost in the feeling and just watching his hips move fluidly against yours causes a soft whine to escape you. You’ve never went without protection before and it’s definitely doing it for him from the way he can barely keep himself from letting out low moans.
Jungkook pushes against you with your legs resting against his shoulders. The way your body folds allows him to get deeper inside. He grunts with every thrust, leaning his weight against his forearms resting on your side. Thrusts get faster and his breathing gets ragged as he watches your face twist from underneath, the heaving of your chest at every breath and the way your breasts bounce with every thrust. You’re sweaty and whiny, eyes falling shut as you hold on to his arms for support.
He takes in a sharp breath, abruptly shooting back up to his knees and slips out of you, “Oh baby, I’m coming.” The low voice he speaks in has you clenching. He squeezes his cock, letting the cum drip down onto your cunt as he milks every last drop. Eyes still shut, you take this chance to catch your breath and when you open them, you see him breathing heavily as he rubs the tip of his still hard cock against your folds, spreading his seed all over.
“Already?” You giggle, breathless. It’s probably a good thing, you think, knowing how he can maintain his erection even after coming twice on his good days. Good for him, but bad for you. The one time he came three times in one night, you almost fell into a coma after trying to keep up with him.
He chuckles, amused himself. "I got too excited." He lets his cock rub against your clit and supports himself with a hand on the side of your head, allowing his other hand to cup your face when he goes in for a kiss.
You push against his body, motioning for a switch in positions. He rolls onto his back and takes you with him, arm around your waist. Sweet smile on your face, you kiss him as you position your entrance for him to slip his cock inside you again. You moan into the kiss when he does, almost dropping your body on him but he keeps you steady with strong arms on your waist.
“Ah…” You bite your lips as your hips grind against his, trying to find the right angle. Your voice trembles when he guides your hips with his hands, getting you to move faster. They move up your body once you get the hang of it, cupping your breasts and teasing your nipples in circles. Your incessant soft whines continue, and Jungkook can’t help bucking his hips into you. His hips move in a gentle wave, meeting you halfway and you bite your lip as you keep yourself steady, pushing on his chest.
“By the way,” you say between breaths, “I’m thinking of getting a navel piercing.”
“Really?” He traces a line from the middle of your chest to your navel. “That’s hot. Can’t wait.”
You giggle and lean back, placing your hands on his thighs and start moving your hips against him. He lets out a low moan in approval. There’s nothing hotter than watching you ride with your legs spread before him, giving him full access to your clit. In this position, his cock hits just the right spots that has you seeing stars. He starts rubbing the sensitive nub in circles and your breath hitches. His movements get faster and you start whining, feeling the buildup in your core. You push yourself back up when it gets too much, placing a hand on his to stop him. “I’m close,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him deeply.
You reach for his hands, interlacing your fingers together as you continue to ride him. He stays still, watching as you ride to chase your release. Your body tenses up and whines get softer. You start to bounce on his cock, crying out as you slam yourself back down against him. Your movements get faster and sloppier as you reach for the release. Jungkook grabs your hips and starts thrusting up into you. Your eyes fall shut as you feel yourself coming undone. “Fuck I’m coming,” you breathe out as Jungkook continues thrusting into you until your body convulses above him, thighs squeezing against his sides. He slows down then, letting you ride it out.
You drop against him as you come down from your high and he holds your body close against his. It’s warm and you’re spent, thighs aching. He kisses the side of your head and lets you rest against him in that position until you catch your breath.
He then switches your positions again, this time turning you over on your front. He heaves your bottom half up on your knees and you complain, body feeling heavy. You keep your head rested against the sheets as he rubs gentle strokes on your ass, having an oddly calming effect on you. The tip of his cock rubs against your folds and teases your entrance before he slips inside you. He lets out a low moan and spreads your ass cheeks as he watches his cock slide in. “Damn it, Y/N.” He mutters. “Is it me or does it feel like...”
“Tighter? I know, I feel it too.” You mumble against the bed. “Are you taking penis enlargement pills? Be honest.”
He snorts, pulling out slowly then slamming your hips back. You groan. “You really think I need those?”
You moan into the sheets, grabbing them for support. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the pilates classes Hana forces me to go to.”
“Remind me to thank her for that.” Jungkook leans forwards and grabs your hair in his fist, forcing you to support yourself on your arms. He goes slow at first to allow you to get used to it. But as soon as he hears soft whimpers from you, he starts ramming into you mercilessly without warning, earning cries of pleasure. He gets lost in watching the way your ass bounces against him after every thrust and how you moan every time he pulls on your hair a little harder, making you arch your back even more.
“Oh my god, it feels so good.” You groan. He leans over your shoulder and kisses your ear.
“You like that?” He whispers, sending shivers down your neck.
“Yeah.” You say shakily. “Just like that⎯ fuck⎯ oh fuck.”
“You’re so greedy.” He breathes against your neck. “You just came a few minutes ago.”
“So did you,” you huff. “I can’t help it if the dick’s so good.” You turn your head towards him and chuckle, biting his bottom lip. Jungkook’s too far gone to make jokes from the look in his eyes. He tugs harder on your hair and expression turns serious. You stare up at him with your mouth parted, breathing hard. “Fuck me harder.”
“Fuck.” He holds you in his arms and moves back on his knees, so your back rests against his chest. Even though you asked for it, you weren’t ready for the way he hammers into you without missing a beat. Your whines encourage him further, and he wraps an arm over your shoulder to keep you close, so he can watch your face twist in pleasure. His other hand roams your body, giving attention to your chest, then sliding down to your clit, rubbing against it ruthlessly. You can hardly breathe, trying to focus on so many things at once. He moans in your ear, then places kisses against your neck and shoulders. “My baby’s such a good girl.” He whispers.
You whimper, feeling an aching feeling in your chest. With one hand on his ass to support yourself and the other on the side of his face, you turn to him. “Don’t pull out.” you say in a whisper, turning to him. He stares at you with fire in his eyes. Something flashes in them and they seem to get darker with lust. “Cum inside me, Jungkook.”
Your body starts to shake from the oncoming release but you hold it back. Jungkook goes harder, and sounds of skin slapping echoes in the room. His hand sinks into the flesh of your waist and his hot, ragged breathing brushes against your ear. “Baby,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck. “I’m gonna cum.”
The feeling in your core gets tighter and you feel his grip on your hand getting harder, letting you know he’s close. He grabs your face just then, turning it to face him. Sweat drops down the side of his temple and his hair is a mess. He clenches down on his jaw so hard you see the dimple that forms. “I love you.” He says and you tear up from the physical and emotional stimulation. His thrusts start to get messy.
“I love you too.” You reply, kissing him.
His fingers rub your clit relentlessly and you shut your eyes at the oncoming wave of orgasm. With one final hard thrust, a guttural noise escapes Jungkook and you both come undone, crying out when the buildup inside you snaps. Jungkook breathes deep and hard, moaning against your back as his hips buck into you, releasing his seed inside of you. You feel his warm release as he drops forward, putting his weight on you, and you meet with the sheets again, with Jungkook still riding his release on your back, hips thrusting weakly.
Only the sounds of ragged breathing can be heard throughout the room. Jungkook removes himself from your back, sitting on his knees. He helps you flip over to your back and you do so reluctantly, mustering whatever energy you have left. Noticing how he licks his lips at the sight of the mess between your spread legs, you squeeze your thighs together.
The pillow you reach for gets taken away from you and you pout at Jungkook. He laughs, then scans his eyes over your body, all sweaty and warm and then his eyes land on the necklace around your neck. He traces it lightly and you watch him from where you lay. Hovering above you, he wipes away the strands of hair sticking to your face. “Just curious, why made you change your mind about the condom?”
You shrug, “Well, I’m on the pill. And I know you’re clean.” Feeling embarrassed all of a sudden, you start picking at your nails. “I don’t know, I just wanted to feel closer to you.”
He smiles warmly, leaning down to kiss you. Taking the spot next to you, he pulls you in close, faces are just an inch apart. “How did I get so lucky?” He says, staring you in the eyes. “Not about the condom thing but just with you, in general.”
“I’m the lucky one.” You smile and kiss his forehead, pushing back his hair with your fingers. “I love you so much.”
“Love you more.” He whispers, eyes shutting close at the way you gently stroke his head. “I never want to lose you.”
“Hate to break it to you but, you’re stuck with me forever.”
“I can live with that.” He laughs, and lets out a satisfied hum.
With a sigh, you push yourself off the bed and head for the bathroom, legs feeling like lead. The sticky feeling between your thighs makes it worse. You realise Jungkook trailing after you from the reflection in the mirror and you turn, pressing a hand to his chest, “Where are you going?”
“In there. With you.” He says simply.
“I’m just gonna pee and wash up. Then go to sleep for the next three days.”
He laughs and holds you close, hands on your ass. “The night has just begun, darling”
“Jungkook, when I said you’re stuck with me forever, I didn’t mean it literally.” You look up at him with innocent eyes. “Also, you’ve done more than enough tonight, and haven’t I said you’re already forgiven?”
“Yeah but,” he swoops down and throws you over his shoulder, landing a hard slap on your ass. “I didn’t say I’ve forgiven you for blue-balling me. I’m not done with you just yet, my love.”
#kwritersworldnet#networkbangtan#jungkook scenario#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fics#bts scenario#rainworks#rough edges
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helo beloved mutual connor, im sorry ur goin thru it rn but i come bearing asks n a heart emoji (💗): bcuz i have had this thought floatin around for a lil bit, wld love 2 hear ur takes on an Adam/Eric/Mallick (+ Art too if u want!) road trip vacation! how long wld they go, do they get motels or camp or just sleep in th car? whats everyone's favorite road trip snack? what sorta shit do they like 2 stop for? (weird tourist traps like giant balls of yarn etc, small town main street stores, cool looking restaurants, nature sites, Actual Destinations, so on n so forth!)
fjkdsd thank u beloved mutual adam,,, <3
ohhh I love tht idea!! road trip fics/hcs are one of my weaknesses,,
but um!! I rly like the idea of th four of them going camping a few hours up north!! (we... don't rly know where. SAW is set so just. imagine a vaguely rural campground lmao. I'm used to camping in th upper peninsula of MI so) it's smth tht Art did a lot w his family when he was growing up, so he's th most familiar w it - Eric went a few times as a kid too, Mallick went Once, n Adam has never rly been camping, w his family or otherwise (he's slept on a trampoline at one of his friends' houses once tho). Art is p excited abt it tbh, it's not exactly smth he gets 2 do often so he's got this whole list planned of things he wants 2 show them!!
it's easiest 2 just take a week in late August, bc they can head back home on a Friday n have the weekend to settle n readjust b4 th coming week + they have to go back 2 work. so they head out around ten on a Monday morning 2 kind of get ahead of th traffic (or at least try to). Art drives both bc he insists and bc he knows they can switch if he needs to, which he does later w Eric. it's a good couple hours (at least 3) b4 they get 2 th campground Art wants to take them to, so clearly it is Music Time + Adam made sure 2 bring CDs! a lot of that time is just spent vibing 2 th music and singing very, very loudly (ESP on Adam + Mallick's end). Art's up front like u three are so fucking goofy (affectionate), but eventually he starts singing too lmao.
Mallick starts th Colour Game, where they try 2 find a car fr every colour of th rainbow. it's smth Eric is familiar w as well bc he used 2 play it w Daniel sometimes, and it's good until they come to purple bc how often do u see purple cars??? so Adam's just like "we're not gonna find pink either" n tht's when this fucking pink pickup truck (noticeably spray-painted, + not done well) passes them n Adam just groans n thumps his head against th window. Mallick is like, trying rly hard not to laugh by pressing a hand over his mouth + Art is biting his lip, but Eric is very openly cackling bc "u see what happens when u assume???" (he gets a very light slap 2 th shoulder but it's still very gentle)
ANYWAY. favourite snacks!! Adam can eat Way Too Many Sour Patch Kids. sour anything, actually, as long as it's candy. yes his tongue hurts and no he doesn't regret it. Eric just gets goldfish bc he tends 2 get a lil carsick + bc it's a food tht's familiar n comforting, n he doesn't rly want 2 be eating anything Too heavy (he's up front w Art, so he can sit by a window in case he needs some fresh air at any point). Mallick likes m&m's, but he switches fr cheez-its every once in a while bc he can only eat so much chocolate. Art likes those peanut-butter filled pretzel bites! he's also partial 2 animal crackers tho. they also bring a good amount of snacks/things they can b sure th four of them like, bc yeah there's a lil store abt a half hour away frm their campsite + they can go there to pick up things if they need 2, but it's easier 2 bring things they like, too. (there's also a mcdonald's in tht town n. they do go there at LEAST twice.)
th campsite they stay at has a lake + a beach, n one of Art + Adam's fave things 2 do is walk along it to see if they can find anything interesting! Mallick goes sometimes too, but mostly he stays w Eric bc Eric can't do tht fr as long as Adam + Art can (not tht he's resentful of it tho). he n Mallick chill on th beach w a blanket (it's kind of like. not necessarily sandy?) n just kinda sit against/lay on each other n read sometimes. Adam + Art come back 2 where they're set up to find them sleeping n Adam has never been more thankful he thought 2 bring his camera!!
on th second day Art + Mallick want 2 go swimming, so th four of them come back out to th beach, but Adam stays out of th water + Eric stays w him. they both know th water will be cold, even if it's late summer, n Adam rly doesn't like being in cold water ESP if it's over his head/he can't touch th bottom. fr Eric th cold can b kind of painful, so they chill n walk along th beach fr a little bit n just talk. Adam gets some good pictures n even gets some of Eric! he also does take a selfie of them, he can't help it. he gets a couple of Mallick + Art too. it's honestly such a nice thing fr them n it just feels like they can breathe easy, not having 2 worry abt looking over their shoulders constantly (tho they're all getting better abt that).
th third day they spend around th campsite to kind of unwind n relax. they might walk th beach a little bit again, but mostly they just sorta chill n walk some of th trails around the campground itself. when night falls they light a small bonfire (Mallick is still iffy around fire, understandably) n they sit around it in their folding chairs w th cupholders (Adam gets red, Eric has green, Art gets blue, + Mallick gets dark green) n make s'mores. they talk abt anything n everything until they're barely able 2 keep their eyes open, n then after making sure th fire is pretty much out they kinda just stumble into th tent n none of them r awake for very long after (they specifically got one tht cld comfortably hold th four of them).
fourth day!! they pack up n head into another little town about 45 minutes away; it's bigger than th one around th campgrounds. after they get situated in a motel room w two beds, they do some window shopping + going into lil stores that interest them! Adam def buys some niche graphic tees tht aren't going 2 make sense to anyone other than th four of them n he's delighted abt it. I like 2 think Eric gets a worry stone, specifically made out of rose quartz. Mallick too, but his is made of amethyst! he also gets a rly cool multicoloured jacket in a thrift store they duck into. Art gets a hoodie w th town's name on it n he's pretty happy w that. they get a few more lil things, just little knick-knacks while they're there, n then they have dinner in this lil diner they'd walked past earlier bc it's inexpensive + the atmosphere is very lowkey n honestly just Nice. there's not a bunch of ppl, the servers r rly kind n the lights aren't too bright, which Eric rly appreciates. it's such a tender moment bc they're squeezed into a booth, Adam + Mallick on one side n Art + Eric on th other, n they're talking n laughing n stealing bites of each other's food n it's Comfortable.
then they head back to th motel n channel surf while unpacking enough 2 get to their sleep clothes. Adam + Eric r sharing a bed n Art + Mallick r sharing th other one, tho Adam is very tempted 2 just push them together so they're all close by (th distance btwn th beds isn't tht big to begin with, but it's the principle of th thing). mostly tho, until they go to bed, they're pretty much just all stretched out Everywhere. Adam is only discouraged frm jumping across th divide btwn th beds bc Art breaks out his Lawyer Voice, despite trying rly hard not to laugh, to say Yr Going To Hurt Yrself, Don't Do That. he grumbles n whines abt it but Adam knows he's right jdhjks (th way he sees it is like. he can b silly sometimes. he's Earned It, but he also trusts Art + wasn't super serious abt tht idea). eventually tho Eric can hardly keep his eyes open n Mallick is just straight up asleep while he's still sitting up so tht's when they all go to bed after making sure every1 is comfortable. they leave a lamp on.
fifth day they pack everything up again n stop 2 walk th trails of this lil park b4 they head home! there's a lil shop near th parking lot so they spend a lil bit of time looking around in there first. they probably pick up a few lil things, souvenirs, n Adam walks around 2 get some pictures. he gets this rly cool one while they're on a bridge, th sun peeking thru the clouds a lil bit n shining down on th water. he's super excited to develop tht one (but he's excited to develop All of them, bc this is his family!!!) + he n Art discuss whether or not they're gonna need another cork board lol. eventually tho they round back to th parking lot n on th way home, they stop at another lil hole-in-th-wall kind of place, but it's just as nice as the first one they'd been to. after tht Eric switches spots w Art n he drives them home!!
they're all exhausted when they get back but they have room to crash w each other while they nap so tht's what they do. they fall asleep all tangled together, Art stretched out w Eric's head on his chest, Adam curled against Eric's back, n Mallick w his head on Art's stomach. there r arms n legs everywhere n tht is okay. they're happy. they love each other. they had a lot of fun on their trip n they're tired, but they're comfortable!! tht's what it's all abt!!! it's just such a good n relaxing experience fr them after all th shit they've been thru.
#can u tell I. love camping jdkfks#saw#art#adam#eric#mallick#ty ty!!! I rly appreciate it#I'm doing okay now mostly I think. pretty much always open fr saw asks tho djhfkjsd ESP if they're abt the polycule!!#I literally Do Not get sick of talking abt them dkjdskd#asks#gotta update th masterpost later!! I remembered yesterday but I was up fr too long lmao#real talk tho. thank u fr sending me asks they're my fave <3
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Cute Delivery Boys
When you finally make it home, you are exhausted. Another long day, the paperwork for the academy took ages. Then you had to talk to everyone who had the monster route ahead of you and get the lowdown and map it out. Then the chief had you running all sorts of other in-office errands. Just because he knew you hated it. But the worst part of it was, you didn’t get to eat properly. You looked at the clock. 7:00. It wasn’t too late to make something, but you didn’t have any meat thawed out. And with as hungry as you were, you needed to induldge your carnivorous side tonight. Which would mean a trip to the store.
Or you could order in. You went to your wallet and took out the coupons Muffet gave you. One was buy one get one coupons for a burger and fry combo, the other was a free meal, delivery fee included; just pay tip. You look in your wallet folds, you had enough a good sized tip. And Chief Johnson did give you the weekend to integrate yourself in the monster community. What better way than by spending money? You try to talk yourself into the extravagence, you were supposed to be on a ramen diet afterall. But it isn’t nearly as difficult as you pretended it was. You are already pulling out your phone and dialing the phone number.
You really were not great with money.
You go down to the hallway closet and start pulling out some boxes while the phone rings. A very bored sounding man answers.
“This is Grillbys. Wha’ya want?” Ok....
“Um, you do delivery right?”
“Ya.”
“Ok, uh.” You think about what you actually want for a moment. “Triple cheese burger, extra onions, no mustard and a large order of chili fries. And load those babies up with cheese.”
“Tha it?”
“Yeah, I got a coupon for a free meal. You want me to read the code off the back, or just give it to the driver?”
“Read the code.” You read off your numbers.
“Ok, that’s it.”
“Sure. The address?” You rattle off your address for the guy.
“Oh! I’ll need to buzz the delivery guy in, but intercom is busted, so you’ll need to give them my number.”
“You gonna to be one of those pain’n tha ass people ar’ncha?” You laugh at his boldness. You really weren’t trying to make his night difficult.
“Not trying to I swear! But since you are gonna call me out like that, I better live up to it. Make sure to send your cutest delivery boy. Only cute guys get my number.”
“Sure thing sweetheart.” He chuckles and you hear the line click. You shake your head. Yeah, monsters were going to give you a hard time starting Monday. Until then, might as well enjoy it. You wonder mildly if they were really going to send a cute monster to you. And if so, would you find them cute? Do monsters have a standard of beauty comparable to humans? Guess you’ll find out. You go grab a shower and change into some comfier clothes. Going for a pair of shorts and tank top. You then gather up your boxes and take them to the living room.
your cell phone starts ringing. You smirk when you see the unknown number. Must be your cute delivery boy!
“Yello, this is y/n.”
“Yah, got’a delivery from Grillbys fer ya.” You are surprised by how deep the voice is on the line. You said cute delivery boy, not ‘biker gang, don’t bring him home to meet your mama’ delivery boy. Oh well, you buzz him in.
“K, I buzzed you. See you in a sec.” Click. When you hear him finally knock on your door, you grab your wallet. You only had a twenty in there, but that was fine. It was a little excessive for a delivery tip on a burger and some fries, but since monsters couldn’t drive yet he probably had to take the bus. That would have sucked.
What greeted you when you opened your door was defintely not what you were expecting.
The monster in front of you was short. Like shorter than you short. He stood at about 4’6”. He was a skeleton, like GTP; but that was where the similarities stopped. Besides being short, the guy had a row of sharp, shark-like teeth with a golden fang on one side. His dark eye sockets glowed with the light of two pin pricks of red that made up his pupils. His head was round where GTP’s what more square and sharp. And the guy liked his red. His coat, a fur-lined hooded thing was black and red, he wore a red turtle-neck and his shorts were black with a single red stripe down the side.
The thing you noticed most about the delivery boy, however, had little to do with his appearance. His magic was blinding in its power. Out of all the monsters you’d met so far, this guy was easily the strongest!
Your shock must have shown on your face because he coughed to get your attention.
“see sometin ya like sweetheart?” His flirt was half-hearted and obviously not meant. In fact, he seemed almost disgusted with himself for even attempting it.
Ok, he was pretty cute.
“Heh, well yeah. I said ‘cute delivery boy.’ Glad to see Grillby is a man of his word.” You wink at him and watch his face erupt in a crimson blush. Blushing bones are totally a thing you guess. Two out of two skeletons can do it.
“W-wha! Wha ta fuck is wrong witcha? Don’t fuckin say shit like that.” He growls at you and shoves a bag between you two. “Here, take yer fuckin food so I can go.”
“But what if I don’t want you to go? Not every day a handsome stranger knocks on my door.” You say as you dodge the bag.
“Not my problem yer an ugly human. Can’t even attract yer own kind.” He tries again, and again you manage to not take it.
“Dude, that’s so harsh!” You clutch at your heart, “You gotta be nicer to ladies. We are delicate.”
“Yer a pain in the ass is whatcha are. Take yer damn food.” He growls at you, getting extremely frustrated.
“Not until you go back to calling me sweetheart. You’re really hurting my ego.”
“I don’t give a shit, sweetheart.” The word dripping in sarcasm. Obviously, he finds you less than sweet. He finally manages to shove the bag into your hand.
“Alright, alright. You win.” You chuckle a bit and he relaxes, seeing an end to his ordeal. “Here, hold this so I can get your tip.” You wave your wallet and hand the bag back to him. It takes him a second before he realizes what just happened.
“Fuck!” You cackle, picking on poor delivery boys should be beneath you. But no one ever said you were a mature adult.
“Oh come on, don’t be sore. That was good. And I really did need an extra hand to take out the cash.” You laugh some and take the bag, handing over the twenty after. You notice in his other hand he has another bag. Must be his next stop. His face is still red as he shoves the bill in his coat pocket and stomps off. You lean out your door and wave goodbye to his back.
“Farewell oh adorable stranger. May our paths cross again!” He flips you off then vanishes down the stairs. He was cute. But really rude. And definitely a more accurate representation of the troubles you will be having interacting with monsters in the future. Of course, he might have been more receptive to your charms if you hadn’t looked at him like that. He was probably sick of people looking at him like a sideshow attraction. You decide that if you ever see him again, you would definitely be nicer. And look at him less.
Sans POV
Oh Sans was going to let Grillby have it next time he went in! Who sends Sans the Skeleton to play delivery boy with a fuckin pervert human? Cute! She said he was cute! Lying shit bag human! Skeletons weren’t fuckin cute.
And so fucking bold too! Most people avert their eyes when they are caught staring at him. Oh no! Not this bitch. When he called you out, he just made it worse! He fumes as he thinks about it.
He takes the turn around your apartment building and then shortcuts back home. He kicks his shoes off in the entryway and slams the bag on the table.
He should have known Grillby was up to no good when he brought Sans a bag of free food. He had been nursing a bottle of mustard, unable to afford his usual tonight. Boss had cracked down on what money Sans was allowed to carry, and Grillz had closed out his tab when they all came up to the surface. So when Grillz said all Sans had to do was deliver a burger to a dumb human, and he would even get to keep the tip, Sans said sure. It was just one human. Well, never again. He was never do any more shitty fucking deliveries for shitty fucking humans. He is interupted from his thoughts by his phone. That was odd, Boss was havin another cooking competition at Undyne’s. Hopefully they weren’t asking him to come and judge. He shudders as he checks the message.
Unknown: Hey, this is the girl you just delivered to. I was rude, sorry.
BZZT
Unknown: Question though? Did I insult your boss when I ordered my burger no mustard? Cause.... it looks like I did.
BZZT
Unknown: Seriously, it looks like I have a hit out on me from a mustard loving monster mafia.
The next text is a picture of his regular. A burger and fries, everything absolutely covered in mustard. Shit! He grabs the bag on the table and rips it open. The fries in this bag coated in chili and cheese. He gave her the wrong bag! Tch, not his problem. He could always scrap off the chili and he has mustard here he could put on his own burger.
BZZT
Unknown: It’s everywhere! Oh god, the poor burger, it’s bleeding mustard.
BZZT
Unknown: This is downright disrespectful.
Another picture of the burger, but with a little handwritten RIP sign held above it. He can’t help but snicker a little.
Sans: wrong bag. deal with it
BZZT
Unknown: Oh good, you can get texts. I was worried for a second that I was texting the void.
BZZT
Unknown: I did see you had another bag in your hand. Could I meet you somewhere to swap? I was really excited about the chili on my fries.
Sans: no learn 2 like mustard
BZZT
Unknown: Dude, that is cold.
BZZT
Unknown: Cold like the corpse of this mustard burger. Is it even a burger? All I see is mustard.
BZZT
Unknown: Please save me from condiment hell!
Sans: why should i
BZZT
Unknown: Besides the fact that you would be helping a beautiful stranger?
BZZT
Unknown: Kidding! Don’t answer that. My ego probably couldn’t take whatever terrible response you were writing.
BZZT
Unknown: I am officially out of cash now, but I would owe you one. I really don’t want to have to call back to the restaruant.
Sans palms his face, sighing loudly. It wouldn’t take much to go back and exchange the bags. And Grillby would probably charge him for the burger if he had to make another. He reads the last message again, smirking as he does. You said you would ‘owe him one’ it would be nice to have a human owe him something for a change. Make you do something embarrassing. Or maybe just make you go to Grillbys yourself. See how you like it when everyone stares at you.
Sans: fine. U owe me. ur place couple min
BZZT
Unknown: YAS! I shall await your return!
#Non-cannon fanfic#underfell#underfell sans#takeout mixup#failed flirts#blushy bones#just having fun#bonus content#look i'm using tumblr for my intended purpose
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𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: you can have half
𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: hyodo juza/reader
𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw
𝐰𝐜: 3.0k words, 2 images
𝐚𝐧: my first a3! fanfiction
He was in three of your classes. Three, and not once have you gotten the chance to talk to him! Granted, you never took the initiative either but after a few months, you’d think some kind of pair or group activity would pop-up to help you out.
The two of you were even in the class with the highly-acclaimed (by the student body) matchmaker professor, and either you were too subtle with your pining or weren’t interesting enough because not once has she tried to pair you up with him, or anyone for that matter.
Seriously, what does one have to do to get close to Hyodo Juza?
There wasn’t a particular moment you could pinpoint when you fell for Juza, but rather it was an accumulation of things that got you more and more attracted to him.
His cool and tough exterior first caught your attention, from the way he dressed to his purple hair. It didn’t help at all that he was extremely attractive to you.
Then you started noticing more things about him, like how polite he was to the professors, or the tiny smile he wore when he ate the anmitsu from the school canteen, or when that one upperclassman handed him some mochi, or when the photography-club senior gave him a box of pocky.
Juza being a sweets lover? Isn’t this what they call ‘gap moe’? Ahhh, your poor heart.
“That’s it!” You exclaimed to yourself excitedly, sitting up from your bed so quickly your head hurt slightly.
“I’ll give him some sweets as a conversation starter!”
Easier said than done.
“Isn’t it awkward to just give sweets out of nowhere to a guy?” You whined, hiding your face with your arms and laying your head down on the table. Your friends sighed for the nth time within the past hour, patting your head comfortingly as the two of them looked at you incredulously.
“It’s normal to confess feelings through sweets though?”
You jolted your head back up to look at the girl. “And who said I was gonna confess?”
The disbelief on their faces increased tenfold. “You’re not?”
Grimacing at the volume of their voices, you looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. By the history books section, you locked eyes with the librarian who paused putting back returned books to glare at your table, causing you to give an awkward smile in return.
Right, library. Inside voices.
“I wanna become friends with him first, but I’m too much of a wimp to even approach him huhu…” When the two girls don’t respond, you turn to the direction where they were staring straight ahead. A slight heat spread throughout your chest and into the roots of your hair.
“Omg, yankee Barney is here.” Choking on saliva, the speed at which you turned away probably gave you whiplash.
“I was gonna go with Dibo the Delinquent Dragon, but I like yours more.”
The two crackheads were stifling their laughter and looked like they were moments away from bursting out and getting themselves kicked out of the library. “Shut up! Let me wallow in my misery in silence.”
“Oh? Since when did Elmo get so dramatic?” Feeling your face heat-up and redden further, you stood up to leave.
“I’m gonna get strawberry milk from the vending machine, go talk shit without me.” You groaned, only staying long enough to hear them laugh as loud as they could without getting caught.
...
There was only one left, and you were the only one in line. How lucky was that? You waited for the machine to do its thing and drop the milk carton through the chute.
Except it wasn’t doing its thing. Odd. Should you stick your arm in the slot? Shake the machine? Kick or punch the glass? Ask someone for help? All of the above, in that order?
Fate had decided for you.
“You, do you need help?”
Holy holy holy-
Hyodo Juza was behind you! And he was talking to you!
Okay brain, here’s the game plan. Turn around, casually ask him for help, thank him, introduce yourself then continue the conversation from there!
Except you decided to make like the vending machine and malfunction.
“I- uh- yes? Please?”
Fuck, you probably sounded dumb. What kind of first impression is this? That response would probably get you intimacy points close to none. You went outside to cool down but weren’t the heat levels rising again?
He stared at you for a second, before quickly looking away and kicking the machine. Ahh, wasn’t that really cool? He crouched down, sticking his hand through the slot before handing you the carton.
“Strawberry milk…”
It looked like he was glaring for a second, but wasn’t he staring because he actually liked the flavour? He was holding out the drink to you, but you hastily pushed his palm back towards him.
“Thanks! You can keep it since you helped me with, you know. The machine! Okay, see you in class Ju-san!” You spoke quickly, before swiftly fleeing the premises.
Back in the library, you let your head fall down on the wooden surface. “You look like crap, what happened?” Letting out a pitiful whimper, you look up at them with a pout ready on your lips.
“He probably thinks I’m weird now…” The two girls exchanged a look with each other.
“Not that you aren’t, but what you do boi?”
“Ju-san…” He murmured quietly, palming the pink and white milk box in his hand. He sat in the dorm’s living room, wondering what he should do.
Juza’s seen you before in a couple of his classes. You always sat somewhere in the middle beside your friends, taking down notes and asking questions when needed. Other than the fact that you were a hard worker, he didn’t really know anything else about you.
Until the fateful encounter today.
At first, he thought you were scared of him from the way you froze up like a mannequin. Then you turned to him, not looking afraid but definitely a little faint and red-faced. Were you sick?
That didn’t explain how you just rushed off without your drink, and that odd nickname.
Ju-san.
Ju-san.
“Juza? Are you okay?” Flinching a bit, his eyes met with Omi’s concerned amber coloured ones.
“Omi-san, I’m fine…” He replied, doing little to convince Omi who proceeded to sit down next to him.
The strawberry milk was still sitting in the purple-haired boy’s hand.
“Are you not gonna drink that?” The brunet didn’t say it aloud, but both of them knew what he meant, ‘It’s not like you to just save it for later, so something’s up.’
“Someone gave it to me.” If the 4th year student was surprised, he sure didn’t show it. Instead, he gave a smile as if he knew this would happen eventually.
“And then? Why don’t you want to drink it then?” It probably wasn’t cold anymore if he had it since class hours.
“It’s not that… it feels…” Juza trailed off, looking for a word that would describe their chance meeting.
“Weird?” Omi supplied, but he shook his head. No, that wasn’t it.
“Sudden? Confusing?”
“Both of those, I think. Also, Ju-san…”
The brunet’s ears perked up at the nickname, almost believing he misheard it. Was this Ju-chan 2: Electric Boogaloo? Ah, Juza attracts cute people, doesn’t he? Can it be that cute people see through that toughness and see his softer side? It’s certainly true with Juza’s cousin.
“So they called you that, huh. Ju-san because Ju-sa sounds like Juza?”
Said person ignored him, unaware of the pink on his cheeks. Being a good mother senpai, Omi decided to help him out. Since Juza’s been delaying drinking the milk, he probably thought he didn’t deserve a free drink out of nowhere. That was an issue with a quick and easy fix.
“I’ll help you give them something in return on Monday.”
That was enough for Juza, who finally ripped the little plastic packet and poked the straw through the carton hole.
For a lukewarm drink, it tasted particularly good today.
You spent an hour last weekend praying to a couple deities that you could start over your first meeting with Juza. Not only that, but didn’t you end up calling him something weird?
You were walking to class when your friend leaned in closer, voice quiet so only you could hear. “Alert, yankee Barney is approaching. I repeat,”
“Don’t repeat.” You mumbled, not having the nerve to respond further, watching as he slowly neared you.
“Hyodo-san? Did you need something?” His mouth twitched at that, before handing you a purple tupperware.
“For last Friday. You can give the container back tomorrow.” You stared at the purple-haired man in shock, before accepting the gift.
“Thank you, Hyodo-san. I’ll be sure to enjoy it!” He lingered for a moment, waiting to see if you’d say something else, before nodding and walking past you and your friend.
Did that just happen?
You didn’t even realise your friend had stepped away from you until she came back running and shaking you with a magnitude strong enough to make a tree collapse.
“I thought you said he was gonna think you’re weird and shit! The fuck is this then?”
“Wait hoe I’m still shookt, let me check.”
Lifting the lid, the contents inside made your mouth water, and you wouldn’t be eating lunch for another 3 hours! Cookies! The torture of having to wait to consume them. Well, one couldn’t hurt?
Delicious! And the crisp, the size, the texture- all of them were to your liking.
“Hoh— isfh— so goo—“
“Oh look, there’s a note. While you’re greedily eating your heart out, let me read it.” Your friend pointed out, before unsticking it from the plastic lid.
“Juza felt bad for the free strawberry milk, so I helped him prepare something to show his thanks. I hope you enjoy. P.S. Ju-san? That’s cute.”
You almost choked, your friend wildly patting you on the back. “What’s this? A note from his mom or something?”
“Ju-ju-san…” You muttered in embarrassment. So he did pay attention to that! Not only that, but he even told someone about it? Well, that wasn’t your biggest worry right now.
“Isn’t this too much just for one strawberry milk? I have to find a way to repay him back!” Your friend narrowed her eyes at you, before shaking her head.
“Why do I feel like this is gonna be the start of a strange back-and-forth between the two of you?”
The next day, you handed him back the purple tupperware.
“Open it, it’s my favourite from the bakery two streets down.” You told him, doing your best to mask your shyness before walking away.
As soon as you left, Juza opened it to find a slice of red-velvet cheesecake and a disposable fork inside. He’ll eat it for dessert later. As he was about to close the lid, he noticed the cute sticky note designed like a strawberry.
Thank you for the cookies, they were really good! I passed by a bakery last night and thought you’d enjoy this!
You signed it off with your name, and he realised that he never knew it until then.
He said it quietly, testing out how it sounded.
He sighed, staring at the library door which you exited from.
The school canteen had some delicious milk bread, but don’t they sell strawberry shortcake on Wednesdays?
…
Wednesday, you delightfully ate a slice of strawberry shortcake which came with a plain white sticky note with nice calligraphy from Juza.
On Thursday, Tsuzuru found Juza eating dorayaki while reading something on a pastel blue paper.
Friday came, and the usual purple tupperware had two Castella cake slices and a lined paper, clearly ripped from his notebook, folded and taped to the lid.
Juza wondered if it would stop by next week and be handed an empty tupperware, but a surge of courage must have overcome you because Monday came with brownies and a note.
I don’t want you to keep ripping pages from your notebook. Do you have Inste? Discord? If you’re up for it, I can message you there instead. Otherwise, my number is…
He placed the paper with your socials somewhere he wouldn’t lose it.
...
Monday night arrived when you got a text from an unknown number.
This is Juza.
What a simple message, but somehow your heart fluttered. Your phone dinged again when you got a follow notification on Inste. Scrambling to follow him back and check out his posts, you didn’t know whether to laugh or be amazed when you saw that the posts there were purely promotional for MANKAI plays, some of which he wasn’t even in.
You took a screenshot of the image of him with the vest and purple tie and asked about the play.
It may not have been in person, but that marked the longest conversation you’ve had with Juza so far. Somehow the two of you went from talking about acting to food, to hobbies and complaining about teachers and before either of you knew it, it was midnight.
A couple days pass by and its Thursday night when people notice a change in Juza. Particularly, his phone habits.
“He’s not as bad as Itaru, Banri, and Kazunari but…” Tsuzuru trails off, looking at Omi who only seemed amused.
“He’s been spending a lot of time talking to someone is all.” The two of them turned their heads back to the first year as he let out a small laugh.
Three weeks in the food exchange and the two of you began having actual conversations in real life. It started when he handed you the purple tupperware, asking how you were and how your weekend was.
It somehow resulted in the two sitting together during classes, and having lunch together when Omi and Tsuzuru were busy.
You began to wonder who would break the streak.
You were running late. Maybe it was a bad idea to rush an essay worth a good chunk of your grade in the span of 8 hours, but somehow you managed to complete it at 3 am.
Thank god for online submissions. You wouldn’t be able to stand a noisy printer at this hour.
After plugging in your laptop and phone to make sure it would be fully charged before classes start later, you flop onto your bed to take a well-deserved rest.
When you woke up, it was 11 am.
Shit, you just missed a 3-hour lecture. Shit raised to the power of two Juza was in that class. Would he be worried that you weren’t there?
It looks like you’ll be the first to turn in an empty tupperware.
Still, you have a plan B prepared.
...
Juza was worried. When you messaged last night you hadn’t mentioned being sick at all. Had something happened? Sure, he didn’t get to message you that much over the weekend because of increasing practice hours but you’d definitely say something.
Omi and Tsuzuru eyed Juza as discretely as they could. No purple tupperware, no wonder he was upset. It went unsaid, but it clearly stopped being about the surprise desserts every other day and more about the person giving them.
“Ju-san!” An unfamiliar voice reached the former two’s ears, but the latter was clearly well acquainted with it based on his reaction. All three men turned around to see you, smiling and holding out Juza’s favourite food.
It was anmitsu with cream, specifically the one from the campus canteen.
“They wouldn’t let me put it in the tupperware, but will you accept it anyway?”
Did he look like he cared where the anmitsu was placed? Sure, it made him happy that despite skipping a class she still remembered to get him something, even more, his favourite dish, but…
“You didn’t show up to class a while ago.” Juza was frowning. You knew he usually gave off an angry disposition, but this was different.
“Sorry, I was up ’til 3 am and forgot to turn on any alarms, haha.” He sighed.
“So the goodnight text then was-“
“A lie so you wouldn’t scold me for it, which obviously didn’t work in my favour.”
Having previously failed to notice the two upperclassmen, you turned to greet them, introducing yourself as Juza’s friend. “Sorry to disturb your lunch.”
Omi smiled. He introduced himself, as did Tsuzuru. So this was his troupe mate’s special friend. “Not at all. Have you eaten? You’re welcome to join us.”
Too tired to protest, you thanked him and sat down beside the purple-haired boy. “I just rushed here without eating, actually. Oh, I should probably get my lunch-“ You proceed to stand back up, but a firm hold of your arm from Juza stops you.
“You can have half.” He says, sliding a lunch set with a serving size you didn’t even know the university provided.
“What?”
“You slept through breakfast time, too. We can share.” He insisted, clearly not accepting no for an answer.
You take the unused chopsticks and begin to prod at the side dishes. “Fine, but now I owe you something. Should I get you banana milk from the vending machine?”
Juza looked away for a second, eyes hesitant as he glared at the anmitsu instead of you. When he looked back, he seemed to be filled with resolve.
“Then watch me… Autumn Troupe’s next upcoming play, I mean.”
For a moment you felt heat beginning to encompass your body, but quickly tried to shake it off. Of course Juza meant his acting.
“Obviously I’m watching it. Opening night and closing night, if I can help it.” You insisted. As if you would miss the chance to see him on stage. Sure, your massive crush on him wasn’t gonna go away any time soon, but to be able to see him do something he was extremely passionate about?
“Quick, help me finish lunch already so you can enjoy your anmitsu, Ju-san.”
...
The two of you somehow forgot the presence of Omi and Tsuzuru, both of whom were listening to your conversation intently.
“Then watch me? Seriously, lines like that can be interpreted…”
“I think we’ve become the third and fourth wheel, Tsuzuru.”
want to order again?
#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#hyodo juza#juza hyodo#a3! juza#cafe: dessert menu#a3! game#a3 juza#juza x reader#a3 actor training game#reader insert
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won’t you lay me down
Hi, I wrote some CCU hurt/comfort fluff. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but bear with me.
In which: Derek has a bad mental health day. Will has his back.
Also on ao3!
///
Will doesn’t see the text at first.
It’s not really his fault. Monday mornings are busy. After morning practice at 6:30 (Will likes that better than evening practice, and as captain he’s tried to keep the practice schedule relatively consistent), he has a meeting with Hall and Murray for thirty minutes while the rest of the team filters out to their respective morning activities and routines. It’s the last he sees of Derek until the afternoon, every Monday— because after Will’s meeting with the coaches, he’s straight off to his internship in Boston for the rest of the morning, then comes back to campus for his 2:30 CS 381 class.
So when the text comes in, he’s mid-transit from Boston to Samwell, sitting in traffic on 128. As a general rule, he doesn’t check his phone while driving. Also, why the fuck is there so much traffic in the middle of the day on a Monday.
He doesn’t understand Massachusetts drivers.
Anyway. It’s when he gets back to campus that he sees it, sitting in his lockscreen over the wallpaper of him and Derek.
18m ago
Derek: do u mind if i chill in the basement
Derek: can’t focus in my room, c is playing music
Oh. Will unlocks his phone, sitting in his student parking spot. He and Derek use each other’s rooms all the time, even outside of their constant sleeping-over in each other’s. Many a time has he returned from class, internship, or other obligation to find his boyfriend hanging out in the bungalow.
They have their own spaces in the Haus, but they do their fare share of, well. Sharing.
Sry just saw this , he sends back. Was drivung. Of cuorse you can use the basment
He looks at the text thread for a second, then sends a <3 after his message, and tucks his phone away again.
On to the next thing.
Class is sort of tedious today, but what’s worse than it is the actual trek back to the Haus from the compsci building, because it’s frigid outside, a chill that gets to his bones even in his winter jacket and the beanie he stole from Derek. In typical New England February fashion, it’s supposed to snow tonight, or at least that’s what he thinks he heard from someone at his internship this morning. He spent most of his shift working out a kink in his supervisor’s code, and he was lost in the numbers and symbols for hours.
He likes it. It’s satisfying to figure out a program.
When he reaches the Haus, finally , Whiskey and Ford are hanging out in the kitchen. He waves to them on his way by, then wonders if he should bake tonight. Maybe after his homework, he can make cookies. The pie he made this weekend is gone already, because all three of the freshmen were here yesterday, nothing he bakes lasts long in their presence.
Will heads straight downstairs, and the door to his room is closed; the lights inside look like they’re off. He eases it open, reaching for the light switch. Derek must have finished whatever he was doing.
Or— not.
Derek is here, and he can tell because he hears Dwayne Johnson singing. He freezes with his hand on the light-switch before he can turn it on, and steps all the way into the room instead, where he catches sight of him— or at least catches sight of what he knows is him, under several layers of cover.
Derek has burrowed himself into Will’s bed with his laptop, and he’s watching Moana , the light of the screen on his face the only source of any light in the room at all. He’s wearing Will’s Samwell hoodie, the good one with Poindexter and 24 and C on the sleeve, and its hood is pulled over his head, strings drawn to make his face look like a blue-lit mask poking out of it. He looks only half-invested in the movie, because he’s resting his face on his arm, scrunched up to the pillow.
Will’s stomach turns. Bedridden Derek in his stolen sweatshirt and Moana are a combination that can only mean one thing.
He closes the door, gently, behind himself. “Der?”
It appears that this is the first Derek actually notices that someone else has entered the room. Will hears the click of the space bar, and the Rock halts mid-chorus. “Oh,” comes Derek’s voice from his blanket cocoon, and it’s small and drawn, the opposite of his loud bravado. “Hey, babe.”
“Hi.” Will drops his backpack at the door, then goes directly to him, crouching on the steps that get him to the loft bed. “Hey,” he says, across the laptop. “Are you okay?”
Derek pauses. He purses his lips at his computer screen, then sighs and lowers it. “Ch’yeah,” he mumbles. “I’m alright.”
With the laptop closed, Will reaches for his face. He cups his stubbly cheek in one hand, runs his thumb across his cheekbone. Derek looks blank, drained. Will knows this demeanor well by now.
“No, you’re not,” he whispers. Without the light of the laptop, it’s nearly dark inside. The slivers of gray daylight from where Derek pulled the shade on the window are all that remain.
Derek breathes in like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. He nuzzles his face into Will’s pillow a little more.
“Der,” Will whispers. He kneels on the steps, pauses his thumb by Derek’s ear. “Gray day?”
Derek whimpers a little, like it pains him to admit it, but nods. “Yeah.”
Will keeps gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “This morning?”
Derek bites his lip. “Didn’t feel it this morning.”
“Oh.” Will pauses. “When did it hit you?”
He closes his eyes. “When I got back to the Haus.”
Will frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
Derek’s eyes are still closed. He shakes his head. “You couldn’tve known, babe.”
For a moment, the room is quiet. Will pushes Derek’s laptop aside a little. “What can I do?”
Derek takes his time, answering. Will is patient. He knows how to do this. He slides his hand into his curls under the hood; they’re matted, and they’ll be worse if he just lays in bed for the rest of the day. “You want to tie your hair?”
Derek takes a long breath.
“You don’t have to,” Will adds. “But if it’ll help you for later…”
“My scarf’s upstairs,” Derek mumbles, weakly, like upstairs is a continent away.
“It’s okay,” Will tells him. “I can get it, baby.”
Derek’s face contorts a little, like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t; he just opens his eyes. His eye contact is distant, like he’s staring more into space than back at Will, but he’s trying, and Will knows that. “I love you,” he whispers, and then, “I don’t feel well.”
“I know,” Will hushes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”
“I’m sorry,” Derek groans.
“Never be sorry,” Will says. “Ever.” He kisses his forehead, feather-light, and then tells him, “I love you too. And I’m gonna go get your scarf, okay? I’ll be right back.”
Derek winces again, like something hurts. He nods, though, slowly, and rests his cheek on the pillow again. Will pulls back to go, but God, it’s hard, because he knows how much Derek hates being alone when he feels like this, and he’s already been in here by himself for God knows how long—
Okay, he’ll only be gone a minute. But even so, he feels the need to fill that space. He climbs down to his bookshelf, reaches onto its center shelf between Derek’s poetry books, and grabs hold of his oldest friend.
“Here,” he whispers, bringing Cromwell up so Derek can see. “Do you want a friend?”
Derek eyes the plush lobster, and though he doesn’t look like he has an ounce of energy to smile, his eyes soften. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Please.”
Will hands him over, and Derek engulfs the little red thing in his sea of blankets, resting him right under his nose. The visual would be cute, if Derek weren’t in such a bad spot. Will caresses his cheek again, then smooths the few curls that are poking out of the hood. “Be right back, baby,” he says. “Do you know where your scarf is?”
Derek pauses, then shakes his head.
“It’s alright,” Will assures him. “I’ll find it.”
This was hard, at first, being so new to this side of him, and not knowing how to help him. But they’ve been together for eight months, and Will knows Derek’s gray days by now, knows the tells for when he’s feeling down, knows a few remedies that help to ease the numbness.
He makes a beeline for Derek’s room upstairs as fast as his legs can carry him. The space itself is even evidence that Derek isn’t feeling himself; there are more clothes on the floor than usual, and the bed is unmade, and his desk looks like his notebook exploded. Will sifts through his dresser drawers, between Samwell shirts, pairs of gym shorts, random articles of Will’s own clothing that’ve been stolen, but there’s no sight of the green headscarf he wears sometimes to bed. He moves his search to the desk, and then to the actual bed, and he’s about to give up when he finds it tucked between the down comforter and the sheets.
Success. He heads back downstairs.
“Hey, Dex, is Nursey in your room?”
“Oh—” Will halts in the kitchen doorway. The question came from Ford; she’s still at the counter. “Yeah,” he replies, poking his head around the corner. Tango has now joined the kitchen gathering. “He’s just watching a movie.”
“Oh, cool.” Ford nods. “I just didn’t know if he was in the Haus. I thought I saw him go down there, like, two hours ago.”
“Yeah,” Will says, “he’s with me.”
Tango waves. “Hi, Dex!”
“Hey, Tango.” Will opens the basement stairs door.
Chowder knows this version of Derek as well as Will does, but the rest of the team doesn’t. It’s what’s buried under the chill, what he could never stand to let people know about himself.
Derek’s brain is awful to him sometimes.
Back in his room, he finally takes off his winter jacket and closes the door behind him, then climbs up the steps to his bed again. Derek is still snuggling with Cromwell, but his laptop has moved; he’s pushed it to the pouch adjacent to Will’s headboard where he keeps his phone, occasional book, and other random stuff while he sleeps.
Will unfolds the scarf. It’s silky smooth. “Gave up on Moana ?” he hums.
Derek rolls over and nods. Will kicks his sneakers off, then crawls onto the mattress, which squeaks a little under both their weight. He slides a hand under his back— Derek is very, very warm, but that’s the way he likes to be when he’s like this— and eases him up into a sitting position. “Sit up for me, babe?”
Derek moves with his touch, nice and easy, and when Will has him sitting up, he slots himself against his back, lets Derek lean on him. “You want me to talk?” he asks as he pulls the hood off his head. “Or do you like the quiet?”
Derek hums a little. “Talk. Please.”
“Okay.” Will combs through his curls, then pulls the scarf tight around them. He learned this on YouTube, after his third time hearing post-funk Derek lament that his depression was ruining his hair. “It’s supposed to snow,” he tells him. “Five inches.”
Derek groans. “Fuck that.”
“I know,” Will mumbles. “But if classes get cancelled, I’ll make cookies.”
“Mm.” Derek hums again, as Will pulls the knot at the back of his neck tight. “What kind?”
“Still deciding.” He hooks his arms around his neck, pulls him close, and kisses his cheek. “You can file a request, if you want.”
“Snickerdoodle.”
“Done.”
“Thank you.” Derek pauses. “For tying my hair.”
Will noses into his neck, drops a kiss there, and then moves back up to his face. “Of course, Der.” He turns him a little, cups his face in one hand. Derek still looks gray, and he looks, God, he looks so tired ; he always does when he’s like this, but it pains Will every time.
He wants to take every ounce of hurt away from him.
“What can I do?” he asks.
Derek takes a long breath while he thinks about it. His words, on these days, come slowly. “Um.” He nods to himself, like he’s thinking about it. “Do you have homework?”
Will shakes his head. “I have plenty of time to do it.”
“Okay.” Derek pauses, then, “Lay with me?”
“Yeah.” Will nods. “Ayuh. Of course.”
They wind up curled into the blanket pile, with Derek pressed tight against Will’s chest, a little further down the bed than him so he can tuck his face into his shoulder. Will presses a kiss to the top of his scarf, holds him as close as he can. He knows the pressure helps him, eases his brain a little. Cromwell rests on the pillow, somewhere near the both of them. He’s a little extra moral support.
“Thank you, Will,” Derek says, with an exhale, as he nuzzles into his chest.
“You’re welcome,” Will replies. “Always.”
“Mmf.” Derek wraps himself around him, arms and legs and all. His voice is muffled when he speaks again, but Will knows the words anywhere. “You and me.”
Will nods. “You and me.”
It’s a mantra and a promise. Hell or high water. Good days and gray ones.
“I’ve got you,” he tells him, and he’ll never let go.
#poindextears writes#ficlet#omgcp#omgcheckplease#omgcp fic#nurseydex#dexnursey#william poindexter#derek nurse#cromwell the stuffed lobster
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VII. Try Again
Summary: Reconciliation has arrived. And it hurts.
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader
A/N: Phew! I got one more chapter for ya and then we’ll be finished, my loves.
Slow Like Honey Masterpost
You watch Sam take off into the crowd and groan lightly at the way he almost resembles the road runner from those old Saturday morning cartoons, billowing dust clouds behind him and all. Steve clears his throat beside you and finally, you turn begrudgingly to regard him.
It’s been three weeks since the parking lot catastrophe, and almost two months since you’ve broken up. He stands now, blocking the sun, so that you’re eclipsed by the cool shade of his figure. It feels ominous, like a foreshadowing of how he might always be someone who takes the light but gives the shade. In this moment, you are both thankful and wary of the shade.
“Hey,” his voice is soft and careful. “I uh--- just wanted to say hi.”
“Yep, you said it.” You smile back, so that any passerby or watcher might interpret the look as one of warmth; no one is close enough to hear the stiff tone. But, to make polite conversation, since he did stalk you all this way, you ask, “Sarah with you?”
Steve points to the popsicle truck where Sarah bounces on her feet with Marnie holding onto her hand. There is a baseball cap on her head and a slight residue of pasty sunscreen on her arms that are quickly becoming ruddy in the sun.
It’s a little disappointing to see her like this, attached to her babysitter’s hip rather than her father’s. You’ve always wondered what the point of having a child was if parents don’t consistently spend time with them. It seems hypocritical that Steve and Peggy’s relationship fell apart because of her inability to spend time with Sarah—but here he is, too: not spending time with Sarah.
As if he could read your souring look, Steve shoves his hands in his pocket.
“I took your advice, you know.”
Your eyes flicker up to his as he kicks at a patch of vibrant green grass inattentively, “She’s been seeing a counselor... there’s-- as you said, lots of discussion. About the divorce. It’s getting better.”
A family comes up behind you to grab a piece of pie, so you and Steve find the right moment to move away from the front of the dessert table, taking your conversation away from possible eavesdropping ears. Chatter rises from the background, full of laughter and children's joyful shrieking. Popsicles shine in the daytime sun, sugary ice in dazzling and flamboyant hues, waving in the air as their owners run across the lawn. Colorful celebration flags flop noisily in the wind, adding their own percussion.
“And I… listened to the other thing you said, too.”
Sarah calls and waves to you from the line, pointing to the menu. You wave back with your best excited teacher face.
There’s no memory of that conversation sparking in your mind. You’re sure you’ve always thought so because he works so damn much—but can’t recall when it came up until your eyes begin to roam over the faded shirt stretched tightly over his chest. Speckled and gray, and perplexingly familiar. “What th—"
Suddenly the hazy sensation of your knees softly thumping against wood cabinets doors rushes into your mind. Soft grunts. A breathy laugh and low moans.
Oh.
Embarrassment creeps over your cheeks when you remember the last time you saw that shirt.
No, it wasn’t much of a conversation then, rather, more like a plead—a sigh passing your lips to encourage his hands as they slid over your body. The shirt, that Monday, had stayed on you for the rest of the day, even as Steve aligned his hips behind yours on the other side of the mirror.
You remember, too, its hem being rucked up when he took you back to bed again only a few hours later, sunlight pouring over you both and illuminating the thread-bare stipples of grey and white as he busied himself between your thighs. Steve couldn’t stop grinning each time he mentioned, “I really like this shirt on you,” even as his face was pressed into your lap.
The same grin graces his mouth now as you pull the brim of your hat down over your face once more. It’s a futile attempt to shield yourself from him and his knowing look, catching you in that burning memory.
“What do you want, Steve?”
“I know this isn’t the best time...”
“Yeah, no kidding.” You hiss, but Sarah comes flying back with two popsicles in her hand, one melted orange drop splattering on your knee.
“Sorry!” She laughs before pushing it to Steve’s face, “Here you go, Daddy!!”
Then, she’s off again, tugging Marnie along as she finds Christine Parsons in the distance and jumps into her arms. It makes your heart hurt just a little, how easy it is for children to find solace in new caretakers. Even Sarah, whom you’ve grown so close to and spent personal time with, has seem to have forgotten all about you.
You can’t blame her, though, because it’s only the third week of class and all you think about every second of the day are your own twenty-four litter of students. Such is life in an elementary school. At least she’s not proclaiming her hatred for her teacher anymore.
But you watch Sarah dance around Christine now, tossing a beanbag in the air and catching it clumsily. In the small timespan of three weeks, she’s shot up another inch—growing so quickly from the already rapid change during the summer break. Her face has shifted slightly, elongating, nose becoming less round and taller, so many little details that add up to one seemingly giant transformation.
Yes. You understand Peggy Carter’s envy.
A bead of sweat trickles down your neck. Steve hands you the popsicle in his fist and you take it without thinking.
“I hired Sam after we--- you know, well…” He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck. “I realized my life needed some reupholstering. I had been too comfortable—falling into complacency, when I should have been paying more attention to the things that really matter.” His mouth turns into a forlorn crescent.
You glare, turning side to side, catching the eyes of the crowd shifting all around looking at the conversation that seems too serious to be in the middle of a bustling school picnic. He really has no sense at all, you think. Big, dumb, man.
Big, dumb, stupid, man.
Steve, unaware because he’s a big, dumb, stupid man, sighs as if he’s holding the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. “You told me you loved me, do you remember?”
To your right, a mother stops midway while reaching for a cut of brownie and you can see her eyes widen briefly before she quickly grabs the fudge square and plops it on her plate. She shuffles a little further away, but still in earshot as she pretends to look for another dessert for her tray. You think about saying something, but your eyes glaze over, trying to find the particular memory he’s referencing, instead.
No. Nothing. A cold trail slips down your palm and you realize the popsicle in your hand is dripping orange all the way down to your wrist.
Steve produces a tissue from his pocket and begins dabbing the melted ice away.
“I got ya.”
Your uninvited and eavesdropping audience member opens her mouth in a small round shape. Her eyebrows slope together as she absently places her hand to her chest, as if saying “aw.” Steve is tenderly wiping the bright orange trickle from your skin before he motions from the popsicle to your chin.
“You gonna eat that?”
When you stand too shocked and frankly flabbergasted to respond, he takes the opportunity to grab it and stick it in his own mouth, crunching the ice between his teeth and sucking the stick dry. A drop of sugar water lands in his beard.
“Huh--” He muses, “Thas pretty good!”
Your teeth gnash together in an attempt to push your suddenly growing smile away. Your eyes slip shut, frustrated with him. What the fuck, you think. Why is he like this? A smile weasels its way onto your face, tugging the left side of your mouth upward into a lopsided grin before you bite it down.
The mom, now taking an inordinate about of time to get a plate of dessert, smiles too.
“Is that a yes?” Steve whispers, peering down into your eyes. “You remember?”
“No.” You respond. “You’re being annoying. And messy.”
“Really?” He laughs, “Is that the best you got?”
Now you are glaring, because no, you’ve got so much more. He seems to pick up the cue and puts his hands up defensively. Then, out of reflex, Steve wipes your hand one more time for good measure. “Sorry, shouldn’t push it. Hey...” his voice grows softer now, and he leans in until you’re both sure the mother who is – goddamn it, still there—can no longer hear.
“Please give me another chance. Please, sweetheart. I really do love you.”
“Steve,” You snap, “That’s not something you say lightly. And it’s not something you say when you’re desperate, either. I have to go, and you should too because your daughter needs to spend time with you and not her babysitter, don’t you think?”
A sad smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah,” he admits, “Yeah. That’s why I hired Sam. He’s really good, you know? I wanted to show him the ropes around our fundraising events, but he’s been at the shop for almost a month now.”
It makes you pause.
“I’ve started taking off on the weekends. Come in just a few times—Wednesdays, for inventory. Fridays to prep for the Sunday rush. This is the first time I’ve called Marnie in almost a week.”
He looks so proud of himself, but he tucks his chin to his chest and regards you with shy eyes like a student waiting for a prize. Even his hands are inside his pockets again and he rocks back and forth on his heels, teeth tugging his heavy bottom lip gently. Big blue eyes. Stupid pretty eyelashes. Steven Grant Rogers knows exactly what he’s doing.
You begin to dig around in your purse in retaliation. Your fingers touch the edge of your phone—no, that’s not what you want. So, you continue to search as he waits.
Truly, you’re very proud of him-- beyond thrilled that he’s taken your advice to heart and has put Sarah first. Over at a game of cornhole, she cheers and claps when her teacher makes a beanbag in. Three weeks ago, that little girl was falling apart and cursing all of second grade.
The idea of him, finally not waking up at three in the morning and working until he literally drops seventeen hours later sweeps over your chest like a soothing current. You remember how exhausted he always was when you’d see him—and it was only summertime. His workload doubled with Sarah during the schoolyear. You remember coming over for spaghetti, and him, about to burst into tears while rolling meatballs.
It makes you relieved to know he would finally be taking care of not just his daughter, but himself as well.
Yes, you’re very proud of him.
Your fingers finally catch what you've been searching for. Slowly, with a ruinous smile, you peel off the points from the thin sheet of plastic and take it out of your purse.
“Congratulations, Steven,” you announce, sticking a quarter-sized and iridescent gold star over his chest. You hold up two thumbs and push them under his nose. “A-plus. Would you like a high-five, too?”
No, you’re not going to let him get away with his shit so easily.
Down the table, three more women have congregated, and they clap and cheer when Steve chuckles and leans his head back in mock defeat.
--
It’s four-thirty and you are slathering aloe vera on your shoulders when a knock pounds at your door. “No!” You yell, “Go away, Steve!”
You avoided him for the rest of the PTA Picnic, mingling with parents and your colleagues instead, but every time you would accidentally find his eyes over the yard, he’d smile at you. A few times, he actually waved. The star sticker, meant to be an insult, he wore as a badge of honor.
Big. Dumb. Stupid. Man.
Eventually, it got to the point where other people (other, other people, not just the eavesdropping mothers) noticed too. After the third person of the day asked if you were seeing Steve Rogers, you excused yourself and went home to nurse your growing sunburns.
“C’mon, hon!” Steve calls from the door, exceedingly pathetic.
“Fuck off!” Even though a laugh might escape.
“Sarah’s here!”
You yelp, because the f-bomb is fine and dandy, but not to her ears. When you yank the door open, wet glistening shoulders and all, ready to apologize... there’s no one there but Steve and two dozen roses freckled with baby’s breath and pearly wax flowers. Your arms cross and you think you might put your fist right through that outrageous arrangement. “Are you serious?”
Steve peeks over the massive amount of deep red and a river of words tumbles out.
“Yeah, Sam was positive that he clocked a flowers-and-chocolate girl from meeting you just one time and wouldn’t let me go without these. Figured it couldn’t hurt... but I got you something else...” He pulls a brown paper bag from behind his back and dangles it one-strapped from his pointer finger.
Two loaves of banana bread sit sandwiched next to each other inside- not even wrapped, just embedded in crinkled confetti-colored butcher paper. On top, a similarly colored scrap has scrawled in rushed and sloppy all-caps handwriting: UNLIMITED BANANA BREAD-- CAP&CO!
“You’re such an idiot.” You berate.
“I know!” Steve cries, “I know! I know! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, please let me come in so I can talk to you. God, please? Even if it’s just so you can yell at me some more?”
“I am not yelling at you.” You retort, but let him in, anyway. “You’ll know when I’m yelling.”
Steve sits cautiously on the couch, places your gifts on the coffee table, and then looks around curiously. Things are a little different since he’s been here last. There are more plants, and you’ve gotten a little square bookshelf positioned in the corner of the room by the T.V. The kitchen even hangs a few wooden panels with abstract strokes and your corkboard of polaroid photos has been changed out for small doodles and tiny watercolor pieces.
He realizes, as he peeks over into the dining room, that you’ve been painting in his absence. Each picture is more refined than the last, as if you’ve been practicing. His little hobby that he pressed upon you hastily, you’ve taken to heart and improved on, even though he’s been gone.
It probably hurt so bad, he thinks, to have those paints in your house, to be reminded of him. Steve shuts his eyes and counts to ten. He doesn’t deserve you, but he wants you. He wants you so much.
“So?” You ask, brow furrowed on the sofa chair to his right. Now that he’s physically inside your apartment, the mood has changed considerably. The snarky banter in public and goading at the door has transformed into solemn and dead air. You don’t know what he might say, and even worse, you don’t know what it is you’ll do in return.
It’s easy. So easy to care for him. So easy to fall back into that routine of being with Steve Rogers.
But he’s shown you that he finds it easy to return to Peggy, too. And you— the easiest one of them all, will just forgive him for it? Your breath sticks to your lungs and refuses to come out. If you could go back to that day in bed and have pleaded with him not to pick up the phone, you probably would.
No, that’s too simple. It’s childish, and naïve, too.
“I’m sorry.” Steve finally speaks into the silence of your living room. His hands are folded over his knees, and he is looking at you like he is trying to bury those words inside your body. He calls your name. “Baby, I am so sorry. I am so goddamn sorry.”
It hurts. It hurts all over, but you won’t let him see you cry. “Okay.” You reply tepidly. Sorry isn’t enough.
“The truth is, I made a mistake. A really big mistake, and what’s worse is, I was too scared to admit it. I could think up of a million reasons why —about Peggy, or Sarah… It’s… so hard.” Steve puts his head in his hands, “The hard thing is that I have always been… stubborn. I was stubborn enough to move Sarah here by myself. I was stubborn to think that I could raise her on my own. Obviously, I couldn’t; I was falling apart, working too much, didn’t know how to talk to my daughter… and hadn’t spoken to Peggy in months. God, I hated being away from Sarah. And when an easy road made its presence known to me— I went right for it.”
You want to focus on his words, because you know he means them, but a part of you begins to disengage to ease your own suffering.
“You got caught right up in the middle of it.” Steve whispers, choked on his sentences. “I wanted to badly to make my family work again, I didn’t realize that family doesn’t need to mean… what I think it means. It can be anything. And love can be anything.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Steve?”
The both of you are in tears now. Your breath comes out in short and sharp puffs as you try to contain the pooling wells of your eyes. Steve’s own face is flushed pink, as wipes his cheeks with the heel of his palm.
“Honey,” he stutters, “I love you. I love you so much. I know your love and it’s wonderful.”
“Y-you didn’t even c-call— I’m not— I’m not a fucking back up plan, Steve!”
He rushes off the couch in a fumble of noisy limbs and falls to your feet on his knees. You retreat into the cushion of the sofa chair, legs drawn and wrap your arms around yourself. Instinctively, you want to be protected from the hurt-- from him. You’re a jumble of wracked sobs and groans as your head begins to pound.
“I know you’re not.” His arms wrap around yours, digging behind your back as he shifts to move onto the seat as well. You’re an absolute mess, completely shattered into pieces in his embrace, jaw clenched and frozen as your eyes leak all the way down to your neck.
Steve holds on tighter, buries his head into your neck where droplets run down your shoulder and onto your back. He rubs your spine gently, shushing your cries.
He feels so warm and good to lean into. And in this moment of weakness and sadness, all you want is that warmth again, just for a single minute— even if it’s foolish.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was afraid and stupid. I thought it would be easier to go back to something I had already known, but I know now that being with you is what I really want. Your love is a wonderful thing. I’m so sorry I ruined it.”
He says it into the top of your head, his warm breath washing over you with each exhale. Steve pulls you to his chest and you can hear his heart hammering in his ribcage. Your own is near identical to his, deafeningly loud in the quiet rest of the apartment. His hands rub up and down your arms.
“Could you love me again?” He asks softly. “Could you try? I won’t let you down this time... I swear.”
His words are sweet like the very honey he stirs into his recipes. They slide down his tongue and out his mouth and soak you in their sticky, syrupy promise. You pull away and look into his eyes, red and blue, glassy and crawling with veins. He wipes a tear from your cheek, and you do the same to him.
Everything is fuzzy. You feel worn down and scattered about, pieces of you lost and trying to find each other.
The two of you sit there, looking at one another on the tiny sofa couch. Then, distractedly, you sniff.
“Where is Sarah?”
Steve erupts into a sharp, wet, laugh before he inhales and blinks his tears away, “God, I thought you were going to headbutt me.” He admits.
“She’s with Marnie at a movie. I asked her to give me an hour and a half before dinner. Time’s almost up.” When you hum softly, he takes the opportunity to press his nose against yours. When you sigh, he does it again before sliding his lips over your mouth.
“I love you.” He whispers against your cheek. One then the other, he places kisses over your face. “I love you.” Your tongue sits swollen in your mouth, unable to find the right words for this moment. “I’d never say it if I didn’t mean it.”
You feel both heavy and weightless, wavering between acceptance and denial. “I--I don’t know, Steve.” You whisper.
“Let’s try again, baby,” he pleads, trailing his lips over your jaw, the two of you scrunched up like pretzels, legs entwined, arms linked and gripped tight.
It’s obvious why clichés like breakup sex and secret relationships are exciting. The aspect of having a potentially glorious thing one last time is a thrill. This, too-- this apologetic, tender, intimacy-- is thrilling. Steve Rogers, torn open and laid bare for you, waiting for you, pleading for you, makes your stomach flip and sink.
He smells like sandalwood and pine. Clean shampoo and summer sun. You try to swallow the deadened weight of your tongue away, but it only grows larger.
Finally, you sigh, wipe your face one last time, and wipe his eyes too. With a crooked smile, you say, “Let’s go get Sarah.”
--
The car ride to Steve’s house is as quiet as a funeral. Your radio remains off the whole time and your brain is wiped completely blank by sheer emotional exhaustion. Any time a thought of whether you’ve done the right or wrong thing arises, it turns into snowy static and disappears. Maybe you’re a saint. Or an idiot. Maybe idiots can also be saints, and maybe that’s what you are.
What you really want is to stop feeling so much. The ache has subsided but its now replaced by unease laced with a steady drumbeat of something that resembles elation. You can’t help but feel excited again, because Steve is here. Steve is back. Steve has promised. And you hope he will deliver. Your chest thumps noisily and at light speed when you remember how happy he made you just a few months ago.
The reality of that approaching happiness resurrects itself inside of you, taking off on eagerly flapping wings.
Yet, the concerned part of you still stands planted on the earth, arrow raised and nocked, waiting to loose the bolt to shoot that bird down.
The two of them watch each other guardedly as they grow further and further apart.
You turn off the engine and meet him on the sidewalk where he stands waiting patiently. Marnie’s car isn’t here yet, so he leads you inside by the hand and brings you a glass of water, observing you all the while.
“What?” You ask hoarsely after a big gulp.
He smiles—wide, blindingly white, reminiscent of the old wallpaper on your phone. “Just glad you’re here.” He says, suddenly shy.
“Yeah,” You reply sadly, “Me too. I think.”
Steve takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the countertop. “It’s okay.” He whispers, tugging lightly on your finger like a lost child, “It’s okay.”
A knock from the front door pulls your attention away and you can hear Sarah chattering on the other side. Marnie opens the door with her spare key and Sarah leads here in with a half-eaten bag of popcorn clutched to her chest. She does look so tall now, you think, and older with her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her jawline beginning to angle just slightly more like her father’s.
“Hi daddy!” She says in-between a crunching mouthful, and then pauses when she sees you behind her father. “Hi!!! Wow! Are you gonna stay for a sleepover? Daddy doesn’t work tomorrow! Can we go somewhere?”
She places the bag on the nearest counter and runs over to where you stand by the coffee table, jumping right up into your arms.
You stumble, because she’s even bigger than the last time she did it, and your life flashes before your eyes.
This time, because he was expecting it, Steve catches you against his chest and sets you right. Marnie smiles and waves goodbye from the doorway.
--
You wash dishes side-by-side in the kitchen after Steve tucks Sarah into bed at eight. She’s worn out from spending her day outside and running around so much that over dinner you watched her nearly doze off while eating her vegetables.
Steve had made dinner with fluffy brown rice and sautéed shrimp and lemon zest. On the side, he steamed summer squash and cut fresh slices of sweet peppers. Once more, you and Sarah set the dinner table and poured the drinks while he arranged the plates.
Dessert was simple: plump, blood red cherries from the farmer’s market. Sarah splashed burgundy over her shirt, and you dabbed some vinegar on it before rinsing it out for her in the restroom. Her nose had scrunched up at the smell and she pretended to barf until she actually dry heaved a little.
Huh. Second grade, you thought, as you backed away from her.
Patting the dishes dry, you stack them neatly into their respective cabinets before washing your own hands. Steve brushes a strand of your hair away from your face and leads you back to the couch where it’s safe: neither too forward nor too modest. Appropriate enough for two adults to talk while Sarah sleeps in her room with the door cracked.
Her bedtime playlist slips down the hall as a tinny, melodic voice. The lights are dimmed low, just enough for the two of you to see each other and not much else.
His hands sandwich yours and he places them in his lap. As he turns to look at you, the lamp behind his head illuminates his long hair, casting radiance all around him. Your breath quickens.
Big. Stupid. Beautiful. Man.
“You know what I thought the first time I met you?” He asks suddenly, a sly smile growing on his face. You frown. The hand on top of yours brushes over your knuckles, fingers rubbing back and forth slowly as he continues, “I thought—”
“I was too young.” You interject, rolling your eyes at the memory of his crass words at Open House.
“Yes.” He laughs. “I did think you were too young. Inexperienced. I had this idea of what a teacher should have been… But then—” he snickers again suddenly, clapping his hand over yours, “then you handed me your resume and flicked me off at the same time.”
You grin, because yeah, you remember that, too. It was a pretty audacious move on your part, but he had really pissed you off. “Is that what won you over?”
“Yeah. It really was. It was impressive—your resume, and your middle finger.”
“I didn’t like you very much when I met you.” You admit, “Didn’t like you … for a long time.”
“Oh, I know, sweetheart.” Steve chuckles, “You would literally run away from me. I had to chase you down with a plate of food-- with specially made banana bread! Jesus, that recipe was so hard.”
“Well, Steve Rogers,” You sigh, “Thank God I like you now.”
“Not God,” Steve corrects, “Thank Bucky. He really set me straight— twice.”
Steve told you once over a conversation all about Bucky and Natasha, the two old friends you briefly met in early June. Bucky was the one who had encouraged Steve to ask you in the first place. You remember replying how you’d have to thank him next time you see him for giving Steve the idea. Apparently, you’ll have to thank him again, too.
“He pretty much yelled at me for twenty minutes after… you know.”
“You deserved it.” You say.
“Yeah,” Steve replies, “I really did.”
Then, after a moment of silence, because both of you are unsure where to take this conversation next—too soon to apologize again and too soon to start acting like nothing is wrong again, Steve clears his throat.
“I talked to Peggy, after the airport.” He says carefully, as if the very mention of her name might make you burst into tears. You’re pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t, but again, it wasn’t her you had been upset with. So, you nod quietly and wait for him to continue.
“I think... we’re all on the same page.”
“Which page is that?”
“That you’re too good for me.”
It’s supposed to come out as a humorous thing, a thing you would laugh at and tell him the opposite. He even holds his breath in wait for the moment when your laugh would escape in a joyful exhale, but instead you glare. “I’m just a person.” You say grimly, and he doesn’t quite understand why the joke that was supposed to be funny has suddenly turned serious.
“I’m just a person. Not a substitute. Not a replacement guardian. Not an idea of a lover or mother or--”
“Woah!” And then the tears are falling down your face again and Steve’s chest feels like it might break open. “Honey, I don’t love you as anyone but yourself. I love you as the caring teacher. The… new painter?” He offers you a sweet smile, “The funny, beautiful, glorious, and gracious girlfriend…”
“My girlfriend?” He asks bashfully.
A small laugh escapes as you wipe your eyes, “Don’t forget I’m good in bed, too.” You tack on jokingly.
Steve puts his forehead in his hand, “Jeez, you gotta meet Bucky again. You two are two of a kind.”
He peeks at you between his fingers. A slow, tender gaze, full of affection and promise. Steve bites his bottom lip, looks at you with hooded eyes and takes a deep breath in. His tongue rubs against the edge of his teeth. “Can’t wait to spend time with just you.” He says in a single quick breath. “I want to make you feel better, baby.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “Don’t disappoint me, Rogers.”
The comment that is meant to be a joke flips on its head. Steve surges forward and tucks both arms under yours, pressing his chest to your chest, burying his face into your neck. “I won’t.” He murmurs, pained. His beard tickles when it scrapes against your skin, but his hot breath wicks it away.
“I won’t ever again.”
“Okay, Steve” You sigh, cheek resting on his head, “Okay.”
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#marvel#mcu#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#modern au#fanfiction#reader insert#slow like honey heli0s
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