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mangowillow · 1 year

Text

perhaps love

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

summary: for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

genre/tags: fluff, friends to lovers, unrequited love, angst, hurt & comfort, mentions of drinking & insomnia

word count: 12.5 k

a/n: no matter how many times i tear this story down, it will always come back swinging. perhaps love was the very first fic i wrote for the fandom and this story means a ton.

For as long as you could remember, you had loved Jungkook with all of your heart.

But the reality is, love seemed out of reach, a far stretch. Not when Jungkook was first and foremost your best friend.

The whole apartment was surrounded by darkness, except for the pure moonlight that seeped through your bedroom window. Your room was your favorite place in the world-- away from everyone, just you and the stillness. You had really bad sleeping habits and your insomnia has gotten worse over time. You tried everything to fall asleep, including hot showers and scented candles. Nothing worked… except for Jungkook.

Jungkook usually played games into the night as his own way to unwind from the stress of being one of the most sought-after graphic artists. When he’s not holding the console, he’s nose deep into his computer or tablet, illustrating his next commission. He just submitted his drafts for his latest client’s marketing kit a few hours prior so he could afford to while away his time tonight. He walked to the kitchen to grab another can of beer when he saw your bedroom door slightly ajar. He padded his way through the hall and leaned against the doorframe, watching your peaceful expression

“Can’t sleep?”

You turned your head in the direction of the bedroom door. Jungkook’s gentle voice that echoed through the quiet of their shared apartment was his other favorite place in the world.

“It’s always hard.”

Jungkook pushed the door further and went inside. You two had been living together for almost two years and Jungkook already knew the layout of the space like the back of his hand. He set the unopened beer can on the bedside table and went under the duvet with you. It had always been this simple-- it was either Jungkook grabbed an extra beer can and share it with you or coaxed you to sleep entirely. Tonight, it was the latter. Jungkook ran a hand up and down your back.

You felt a pang inside your chest. It was barely there but still felt. Tonight was different, lonelier. You closed your eyes, thinking that maybe this was just how it had to be.

“Tell me what you need,” Jungkook muttered.

“Gguk…” you started. Jungkook hummed, ever so kind, so patient. “Can you help me sleep?”

Years of friendship made words between you comfortable and safe. Your insomnia started right around the time your dance studio was gaining more enrollees and by the end of a year, you already needed to hire a few more dancers and bigger studio space. Jungkook was there to witness all your hard work, sleepless nights trying to perfect a routine you had to teach every week. Jungkook was there to help you through the breakdowns and occasionally had to endure your spats, to which you apologized for with ramen and kimbap.

You and Jungkook go way back, but tonight it’s just the two of you and your shared present. Jungkook helped you lay down on the bed and your heart swelled . Jungkook lay on his side as he gently guided you to face him. In the calm of the night, you saw stars in Jungkook’s eyes. You willed yourself not to speak for fear of breaking the moment. Jungkook started to caress your cheek ever so lightly, eyes falling close as you reveled in the softness of how Jungkook took care of you. As Jungkook continued to comfort you, he started singing your favorite sleep song.

now playing: watch you sleep. by girl in red

Jungkook’s melodious voice rang through the room with much reverence. You both find yourselves busy in life, but you always, always come back home to each other-- and that thought makes your heart ache so much more. Tonight might be lonely, but you also treasured moments like this when you allowed yourself to surrender, to take pleasure in being with Jungkook. By the time he finished the song, you were already fighting to stay awake.

I want to be with you for longer.

“What about your game, Gguk?”

“I will play another round before I go to bed. Right now, you’re more important.” Jungkook tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you need me to.”

“Gguk-ah.”

A smirk found its way into Jungkook’s pretty lips. He knew what was coming next.

“Can you stay?”

It felt like the whole room stilled ten times over.

“I mean… just for tonight,” you quickly added, worried you might’ve said the wrong thing too late.

Jungkook gently got up from the bed and walked out the door, leaving you to wonder if you messed up. Yeah, you did , you thought. Was it that easy to mess things up? Was Jungkook really that uninterested? As you listened to Jungkook’s footsteps, you also heard the gameplay music coming from the living room abruptly stop. A few objects were heard being moved around until Jungkook’s footsteps once again became louder.

Jungkook said nothing as he closed the door to your bedroom, his weight sinking into the other side of the bed.

Oh, he came back, your mind dumbly said.

It was always familiar, that feeling of Jungkook being too close. You wished it never had to end. Jungkook slid an arm under you and the other caged you in closer to his chest. He dropped a light kiss to the top of your head and picked up where his hands left off— grazing your spine.

“Are you cold?”

You swore you heard Jungkook smile through his words.

“No. The duvet can cover us both, I think.”

“Hmm. I’ll hold you through the night in case the duvet falls.”

Jungkook placed another feathery kiss on your forehead. A few seconds seemed to have passed with nothing but comfortable silence, two hearts beating for one another.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

You felt Jungkook’s hold on you grow tighter.

“Goodnight, ____.”

The morning after was both the easiest and hardest thing you had to face because it was either you woke up to Jungkook still peacefully sleeping beside you or to an already empty bedside.

This time around, Jungkook was already awake and smiling.

Smiling.

You thought it to be so endearing and cruel of him at the same time. Jungkook never watched you sleep before.

Chuckling probably because he saw your wide eyes, he asked, “Did you sleep well?”

You shifted before nodding with a small smile. “How about you?”

“Like a baby.”

You chuckled too as he yawned and stretched. You’re so beautiful like this.

“What do you want for breakfast, ___?”

“Do we still have eggs?”

Jungkook nodded, “and bacon, too.”

“Ugh, heaven on earth. I’ll have both, please.”

Jungkook smiled warmly like he was the soft morning light himself, “I’ll whip us some pancakes, too.”

You nodded, yawning a second time. You got up to brush your teeth and do the usual morning skincare routine. As you stared at yourself through the mirror, you thought about how you could feel so content living with Jungkook like this— peaceful with endless possibilities.

You realized your love for Jungkook on a rainy day when both of you were supposed to try and fly the kites you made over Gwangalli beach in Busan. You remember feeling bummed out because Jungkook put so much hard work into making those kites, only to be destroyed by a sudden downpour. You’d expected Jungkook to be upset as well, but to your surprise, Jungkook pulled you into the pouring rain to dance. He always did that. You thought he was crazy for doing so, but you went along with your fifteen-year-old friend’s absurd idea.

It was a good thing you let yourself be pulled into pouring rain by Jeon Jungkook… because from then on, your love for him just grew. Blossomed like the spring flowers on a cool afternoon.

You were pulled out from your memories when you heard a phone ring. You quickly finished combing your hair and went out of the room, feeling hopeful about breakfast.

“...hyeong, I’m not sure if this is a good idea.”

It was Jungkook speaking to someone on the other end of the line. He had his AirPods on as he waited for the bacon to turn crispy— just the way you liked it. You sat down across from Jungkook on the kitchen counter and he gave you a small smile, even though his eyebrows were furrowed.

“Okay, fine, fine, I’ll go… I’ll see you later.” Jungkook tapped the right AirPod twice, ending the call. You could tell something was off.

“Everything okay?”

Jungkook didn’t answer right away as he transferred the bacon onto a plate with paper towels. “Yeah, that was Yoongi hyeong”

“Oh great, are you guys meeting up later?” You tried to make light of the situation, but could already feel the other shoe was about to drop.

You’ve always had that lingering anxiety at the pit of your stomach whenever you were with Jungkook. It co-exists, always present as your love for him. It’s the product of a love unreciprocated.

Jungkook hummed, too concentrated on the eggs in front of him. “Hyeong set me up on a date with someone.”

“Oh…”

Jungkook kept his head down as he cooked, but you didn’t miss how he looked up briefly at you the moment the small surprise left your lips.

“That’s great, Jungkook. Isn’t it? It’s about time you tried dating again.”

The morning was already starting to crumble right before you could even get through breakfast.

“Yeah, I… I think it’d be fun. I’ll see how it goes.”

You have seen Jungkook’s fair share of dating experiences over the course of your friendship. He never brought anyone home to your apartment, but you almost always witnessed how fleeting his dates were. It wasn’t as if Jungkook didn’t like them, it’s just that he prioritized his work more than the possibility of finding love. The last one Jungkook dated was like a tornado in human form. You remembered how happy he always seemed to be after their dates. He’d tell you about how she made him want to come out of his shell more and that maybe, just maybe she could be the one. You were happy for his best friend then, you always were. But you were also heartbroken seeing your childhood love date other people, let alone look at them differently. You had only met the girl once— and you immediately understood why Jungkook liked her. Kind, charming, and passionate about art and life. An advocate for women’s rights, a cat lover.

Everything that you didn’t seem to be.

You don’t know how the relationship ended, though. That’s the thing about Jungkook— with you, he was magic and light, wild and full of compassion, but when it came to sharing his feelings, he always had a hard time expressing them. You are as patient as ever though, never pushing Jungkook to emotional places where he didn’t want to be.

You will always wait for Jungkook. But is it worth it?

“You should really get out of the house, Jungkook. Go and have fun. Your art will be waiting for you here at home,” you tried to smile as Jungkook handed you your breakfast request.

“You sound like you really want me out of the house, ____.” Jungkook teased.

You dramatically sighed, threw in a slight roll of your eyes for good measure, “I just want what’s best for you. You know that.”

“I always know, ____.”

You will always look out for him. Love him from afar. You will always choose your best friend. You could only wish that Jungkook would choose you, too.

You definitely felt like an idiot waiting up for Jungkook.

You liked to tell yourself that Jungkook’s mystery date didn’t bother you at all, but being alone in the apartment on your day off didn’t help much because you thought about the said date all day long.

Here’s the problem: You didn’t know you were so bothered.

Well, you, knew why… in a way. But you didn’t like admitting it to yourself because it becomes so much clearer. Jungkook has always been a constant in your life, a friend through thick and thin-- but that’s the issue. Jungkook is a friend.

You heard faint footsteps becoming louder until someone was punching the code to unlock the door— Jungkook was home. You quickly glanced at the clock. It was only 9 pm. He’s home early, isn’t he? What does coming home early or late from a date even mean ? You shook your head rapidly, willing the ridiculous questions away when the familiar melody of the door successfully unlocking rang through the room, and in came Jungkook. You repositioned yourself at lightning speed, pretended to watch TV, and only looked up when Jungkook came into view.

“Hey. How did your date go?” Your eyes flitted back to the screen in front of you, feigning indifference.

Jungkook plopped next to you on the couch and stretched his legs, “T’was good.”

Turning your body to face Jungkook you asked, “How good is good?”

Jungkook chuckled as he intertwined his fingers behind his neck. He didn’t pry his eyes away from the TV, which was showing a variety show about refrigerators.

“We had dinner. Mia was a nice girl, very polite.”

Ah, so the name was Mia. You slowly nodded before tilting your head to the side, revealing a small smirk, “did you have fun at least?”

“I guess it was alright. You know how awkward blind dates make me feel.”

“What makes them awkward again?”

“I’m not sure exactly… It's like I just don’t know how to act around them, let alone know what to say. It’s— I’m not even sure if she had a good time, to be honest.”

“Well, I’m sure he had a good time,” you turned your attention back to the TV but muted the volume. Why was there a face towel inside one of the refrigerators?

“What makes you so sure, ____?”

You shrugged, “You’re pretty amazing Jungkook. Funny, smart, very attuned to others. I think you just don’t see it because, you know, it’s you.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. The momentary silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Why are you still up, ____?” Jungkook suddenly murmured. He was still facing the TV, but he had his eyes closed.

You suddenly felt a need to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. When you didn’t respond, Jungkook opened his eyes and turned to face you. “Do you need help sleeping, ____?”

“I really shouldn’t ask for too much, Jungkook. It must be uncomfortable not sleeping in your own bed.”

Jungkook gently flicked a finger at your forehead. You feigned hurt.

“Silly. Come on, let’s get ready for bed. It’s getting late and you have an early class tomorrow, right?” You didn’t even know he remembered your schedule. You let Jungkook pull you by the wrist, leading the way to your bedroom.

Like coming home, you slotted yourself comfortably in between Jungkook’s waiting arms as you both lay in bed. Jungkook rested his chin on top of your head and breathed in your soft, powdery scent. You instantly felt Jungkook relax, all tension starting to ebb away, but maybe it was all just in your head.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook. I just… I don’t know, I have a long day tomorrow and I need to sleep.”

Jungkook adjusted himself in a way to give you some wiggle room but still held you close. “You don’t have to apologize. I completely understand how pressured you must feel, especially because the dance studio is going through big transitions.”

In your mind, you were thinking of all the ways you and Jungkook just clicked . But there’s that tiny part of you that feels that maybe this arrangement wasn’t the most ideal because for all you knew, Mia might just be a really great girl and Jungkook just needed time to warm up to her. Having Jungkook this close was your dream-- a dream you’ve always kept safe in the recesses of your mind. Now that it’s actually happening— and that it’s been happening for a while now— you crave this closeness more and more and yet, you also feel guilty because you needed to run in the opposite direction. Before things got too painful.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Your body went stiff so Jungkook pulled you much closer as he ran a hand through your hair. He looked at you, eyes soft and half-lidded, your faces too close you felt like something else was going to happen.

But nothing ever happened. Of course.

He held your gaze a bit longer and you wanted to tell him the truth. Tell him to look at you just this once. But words failed you once more.

“Thank you, Gguk.”

Not a lot of words need to be exchanged. You have been friends for so long that almost all your movements and emotions, no matter how subtle, were easily discernible. You know when Jungkook is having one of his creative blocks because he becomes irritable. Jungkook knows that you can sometimes be too hard on yourself when it comes to dancing, so he cooks your favorite bibimbap as a way to ease his stress. You and Jungkook just know how to comfort one another.

“My silly darling,” He never called you that before, but you could almost hear Jungkook smile as he uttered it. “I want to be here.”

If your heart suddenly stopped, you hoped Jungkook didn’t notice. I want to be here, he said. With a languid smile on your tired face, you succumbed to the pull of sleep, hoping your dreams about Jungkook would never end.

“You already picked the last movie, ____.”

“Fine, we can watch one of yours.”

Jungkook’s bunny smile reappeared and your heart grew ten times its size. After eating dinner, you both decided to watch a movie. After all, it was a Friday night and neither of you had the energy to spend it outside with other people. You watched as Jungkook flicked through the movie choices until he finally settled on a Marvel movie.

You were already halfway through the movie when the doorbell rang. You and Jungkook looked at each other, both of you surprised because you weren’t expecting anyone at this late hour. As you shrugged your shoulders, Jungkook got up to answer the door.

You decided to pause the movie because you didn’t want Jungkook to miss anything, but doing so made it clear that the sudden visitor was actually Yoongi.

The location of the door wasn’t too far off from where you were sitting. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop either, but you couldn’t help but wonder why Jungkook didn't let Yoongi in.

“Mia told me about your date. I don’t understand, Jungkook, you both said you had a great time, so what’s the problem?”

Oh, they were talking about Jungkook’s date. At this hour?

“I don’t know, hyeong. I guess it never occurred to me to call her so quickly after a first date. Did you come all the way here just to ask that?” Jungkook was a fairly mellow person. Almost never irritable with anyone but himself, just very patient even when you could see how other people were already pushing his buttons.

“I think Mia really likes you, Gguk-ah. You should call her. I also came by to bring you back some of your art supples because you left them at the studio yesterday.”

You heard plastic rustling. Jungkook didn’t answer right away, not until his voice lowered, almost sounding like he was pleading.

“Let me think about it, hyeong. Please?”

Yoongi sounded a bit exasperated, “Fine. How’s ____?”

“She’s fine. We were actually watching a movie,” Jungkook was back to his usual tone of voice, but clipper.

“Oh, that’s nice…”

“Would you like to join us? We still have a beer in the fridge, I think.”

“No, I just… I was just about to go home and thought I’d stop by to give you your things because I already had them in the car, but uh— yeah. Maybe some other time.”

It didn’t register with you right away that Jungkook had Mia’s number. Whether Jungkook asked for it or the other way around, they still exchanged numbers. There was a chance of a second date. You didn’t notice the lump forming in your throat as you came to realize again that Jungkook wasn’t yours. You had no right to think this way about Jungkook and his love life. He lives his own life, free to date anyone, anytime.

You weren’t supposed to hear this conversation either. The feeling of impending dread slowly crept up on you. All you knew was that whatever you were feeling right now is something that shouldn’t even be happening.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you saw Jungkook return from the corner of his eye. You suddenly lost all strength to continue the movie. Without even thinking, you pulled yourself up to your feet with the intention of going back to your room. Maybe sleep would do something to dull the ache.

But then you remembered you had a hard time doing that, too.

Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. You held out hope for a minute there— hope that maybe Jungkook would tell you he was sorry, but then again, what would he be sorry for? He shouldn’t feel sorry for anything, especially not your feelings.

The sadness was starting to fester through your bones again. You had to get out of the living room, away from the one person who could make you feel better. Wordlessly, you let your feet take you to the bedroom and quietly shut the door.

Jungkook never tried to pry nor force you to explain anything to him. He was always the understanding one, always the one who gave you your space when you needed it, even when you were being cold to him.

That’s the thing with Jungkook— he knew exactly when to be there for you. Except for this time around, not even Jungkook’s presence can heal an unknown emptiness that you don’t even recognize yourself.

Nine-year-old you never really liked the first few hours after school because that meant you had to stay and wait until your mom picked you up. School grounds can get pretty lonely, especially when all the other kids have already gone home. Young as you were, you found it funny that both you and your mom ended up closing shop every day— you closing school grounds, while your mom closed the register at the grocery store where she worked.

What nine-year-old you hated the most was when you had to wait after school while it rained because you couldn’t walk around the courtyard and play.

You hugged your knees as you rocked yourself back and forth watching the rain splatter on the cold, hard ground. Of all days, you forgot to bring a jacket and you were starting to shiver. It was only four o’clock in the afternoon. Your mom wouldn’t arrive until six.

Just after you let out a big sigh, a boy came running in your direction carrying an umbrella. Strange. No one but you usually stayed at school this late.

When the boy reached the stairs and closed his umbrella, he shook off excess water from his already wet hair, causing a few droplets to splatter all over your face.

“Oops, sorry about that.”

The boy gave you his widest smile as he continued to catch his breath from running too fast. You usually saw this boy walk along the school hallways, always surrounded by his friends. You were also clubmates in dance.

“My name’s Jungkook. We go to dance club together.”

“I know...” You replied as you rested your chin on top of your knees again.

“You dance really well, I wish I could be as graceful as you… anyway, what are you still doing here?”

“I’m waiting for my mom. She usually picks me up, but she has to finish her job at the store first.”

“Oh, okay. How long do you still have to wait for her?”

“Probably a few more hours,” you didn’t mean for your tone to be somber, but you couldn’t help it.

As much as you love your parents, sometimes it can get quite lonely.

“That might take forever!” Jungkook’s eyes grew wide but you found it amusing. Most people would just say ‘oh’ and move on. Or maybe pity you.

“It’s no big deal, I’m used to it already.”

“Well, do you want to grab something to eat first?”

While you knew Jungkook meant no harm, you still wondered why he was offering all of a sudden. What was he even doing here?

“I don’t think—”

“My driver Mr. Hong-sik is parked right outside near a hotteok stand. Let’s go buy some!”

You hesitated because you weren’t supposed to leave the school grounds until an adult came to pick you up but at the same time, you were really hungry.

“What do you say?”

“Do you promise that we will go back here after buying?”

Jungkook was already nodding, his smile growing wide again upon hearing the possibility of you giving in to the idea of hot hotteok.

“Yes, of course. Mr. Hong-sik will take care of us, don’t worry. Besides—” Jungkook opened his umbrella, droplets of rain splattered across your face again, “—this umbrella is big enough to fit us both.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

It would only be years later when Jungkook admitted to you that he had known for a while how you spent your days alone after school and that he wanted to keep you company.

When you were seventeen and Jungkook fifteen, the school dance team won an award. You both celebrated by eating ramen and ice cream at your mother’s grocery store.

When you and Jungkook went to college, you decided to share a room together because you both got into SNU. Over the years mishaps had happened, you both cringed at each other’s disaster dates, and cried when you had your hearts broken by careless people. Through the highs and lows of life and love, you and Jungkook were a team.

Now that you are twenty-six and Jungkook twenty-four, you continue to conquer the world together.

Except that you never expected to slowly fall for the boy who accidentally splattered water on your face twice and shared his umbrella.

“Yah— stop eating all of the danmuji!” Taehyung playfully snapped as he chewed on his jajangmyeon.

“I already told you to order extra, but of course, you didn’t listen again,” you replied, happily chewing on the kimchi.

“I totally forgot, okay? Let me breathe,” Taehyung pouted. “It’s not every day when little kids come into the studio and wreak havoc during hip hop class.” You chuckled at your best friend’s whining and placed a piece of danmuji on top of his noodles. Taehyung looked to you and mumbled his thanks.

You were sitting with your legs sprawled out on the dance floor of the dance studio. Both of you just finished your separate intensive classes and were fueling up for the next set this afternoon.

“I heard Jungkook went out on a date,” Taehyung isn’t really one for dilly-dallying. Always straight to the point.

“Yoongi told you, huh?”

“Of course. The man could never hide secrets from me. Not in our household.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Jungkook did go on a date,” you didn’t like where the conversation was going, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop Taehyung from asking further either. A part of you wanted to talk about it with someone.

“And how do you feel about that?” Taehyung shoved a piece of kimchi onto his mouth and waited for your answer.

You started to re-arrange the toppings on your plate, trying to avoid eye contact all of a sudden, “what do you mean?”

“I know you, ____. You can’t hide from me.”

You chuckled at your best friend’s blunt nature. It’s one of the things you liked most about him because you were the opposite— always caring, understanding, nice. You put others first before yourself because that’s who you are— the reliable friend. You know Taehyung means well and is just looking out for you, too.

“Do I have to answer your question?”

“You don’t have to, but I can tell it’s bothering you. You didn’t even notice that I took the last piece of chicken just now—”

“YAH!”

Taehyung snickered, “But seriously, you’re quiet than usual. Does he still help you sleep?”

“He does.”

“And he hasn’t said anything beyond that?”

“What is he supposed to say?”

Taehyung shrugged, “You tell me.”

“We’re friends, Taehyung. There’s nothing else to say” You let your shoulders sag. You’re surprised at yourself that you’ve been holding the tension in.

“After everything—” Taehyung paused and bit his bottom lip, trying to carefully choose what to say next, “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason why he volunteers to help you sleep is that he likes you too?”

“Stop putting ideas into my head.”

“I’m not, but I do want to point out what you can’t see, ____. I’m your best friend— Jungkook is, too, but with us it’s different. I don’t feel the urge to jump you every so often, ah!---” Taehyung earned a playful smack from you, “Look, all I’m saying is… you and Jungkook have been friends for a really long time so why don’t you just talk to him?”

You started to argue, “It’s not that easy. It might ruin our friendship.”

“But how else are you going to get past this?”

“Take my feelings to the grave,” you expressed glumly.

“So dramatic. And very, very difficult for you to bear all on your own.”

“I’m scared, Taehyung. What if things become awkward?”

“Will Jungkook really let it come to that? He’s your best friend. If he says he doesn’t feel the same way, the more important thing here is you. You and your heart— because at least in knowing, you can finally move forward. Date other people without the what ifs.”

You seemed to mull over Taehyung’s words.

“I’m not forcing you to ask him. At the end of the day, you get to decide. I just want you to be happy, ____. Always.”

“I know, Taehyung-ie. Thank you.”

You came home that night to Jungkook passed out from exhaustion on their couch. He still had his eyeglasses on, his apple pencil caught in between his fingers. His iPad was on top of the coffee table and you assumed that Jungkook rushed yet again another commission for a client. It was still early— 8 o’ clock. You wondered if Jungkook had already eaten. You draped a blanket over him and adjusted his head on one of the pillows into a more comfortable position. The movement slightly jostled Jungkook awake. With half-lidded eyes, he gave you a sleepy smile.

“Hi ____, you’re home.”

“Hmm, I am.”

“How was class today?”

“Excellent. Did you get to finish that commission?”

Jungkook yawned, “Barely... ”

You reluctantly caressed Jungkook hair, fingers gently rubbing his scalp. As soon as you did, his eyes fell closed.

“Have you eaten, Gguk-ah?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for you.”

“You didn’t have to. What if I came home really late? You can’t miss your meals.”

“You’re here now, aren’t you?”

You chuckled as he mumbled, “Brat. I’ll whip us up some kimchi kimbap and ramen. How does that sound?”

“I’d love that, thank you.”

“You can sleep more. I’ll wake you up when dinner’s ready.”

“I can help you—”

“Stay put. I’ll be quick, okay?”

Jungkook nodded as he watched you disappear into the kitchen. You prepared all the supplies needed to make dinner and as soon as you started chopping the kimchi for the kimbap, you heard Jungkook’s soft snores.

Suddenly, all of your fears ebbed away. Emotions were a funny thing— the fondness you had for Jungkook overtook your whole being everytime you looked at him. Sometimes you want to feel angry at how Jungkook seemed oblivious, but then again… he isn’t really a mind-reader. You have always been affectionate with each other and you wondered where people drew the line between friendship and love. What happens when one catches feelings? What happens to both of you if a confession was the way to settle things once and for all? The stakes were too high— confessing your feelings for Jungkook might make him pull away. What happens to the friendship built over the years? If you were lucky, maybe Jungkook might love you, too.

You were in a bind and you didn’t like that.

Jungkook slept on the living room couch, tired from the day’s work. You both make meals for each other. You sleep together on the same bed. Shouldn’t life with Jungkook be this easy?

And obvious?

After twenty minutes, dinner was ready. You woke Jungkook up and he devoured the simple dinner over stories of your classes and his ideas for the client’s project.

This friendship is simple. Light. It is a life well lived between two childhood friends that began with a shared an umbrella and hotteok. You wished it was always this uncomplicated.

Jungkook helped you sleep again that night. Not a lot of words were shared because you were honestly exhausted and just when you thought you didn’t need cuddles, Jungkook went into your room and laid on your bed, not uttering a single word. He only wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your cotton scent.

“You’re always helping me, Jungkook.”

“Is it working? Are you sleeping well?”

“I am, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad. I’m really glad, ____.”

All is right in this world, all is well with us this way, you thought before you gave in to the pull of sleep for another night.

You woke up to the sunlight and an empty bed. Muffled sounds could be heard from outside the bedroom.

“Mia’s kind of annoyed that she gave you his number but you still haven’t called her”

“I know.”

“Is this about ____? Is that why you haven’t—”

“I don’t know, hyeong, it’s too early to have this conversation.”

Yoongi came into view as soon as you reached the kitchen. His back was turned to you and it seemed like he was cooking pancakes. Jungkook was sitting on the stool by the counter and had his back to you.

“Oh, good morning, ____,” Yoongi chimed.

“Good morning.”

Jungkook poured you a glass of orange juice, “Slept well?”

You didn’t have your words yet so you just nodded. Even with Yoongi busy with the stove, you felt the tension that made itself known so suddenly around the kitchen.

And for some reason, Jungkook decided to throw out the trash, leaving you and Yoongi alone for a while.

“How are you, ____” Yoongi asked as he gave you a serving of pancakes, egg, and bacon. The last thing you expected was to wake up to breakfast prepared by a visitor sprinkled with passive confrontation.

You sipped his orange juice again before replying, “I’m doing well. Dance classes are picking up.”

“I’m glad… and Jungkook?”

“What do you mean?”

“How is Jungkook… and you?”

It was way too early for this conversation.

“I need you to be a bit more specific about what you really want to ask me, Yoongi.”

Yoongi was met with an almost deafening silence. You knew that apart from him, Jungkook confided in Yoongi the most. He knew most of Jungkook’s dating escapades and with that, his heart aches too. Yoongi is Jungkook’s fiercest protector, you are well-aware. You understand how he tends to be confrontational especially when it came to Jungkook’s feelings.

Because they go way back.

In all honesty, you were terrified of Yoongi knowing about how Jungkook had been helping you sleep, but you didn’t know why you were scared. Yoongi is your friend too, after all.

Maybe because you wanted to keep such intimate moments with Jungkook for yourself. Something that was yours, and yours alone. Unfortunately, you had a gut feeling Yoongi knows a lot more than he’s letting on.

“Jungkook just started dating again, ____.”

“I’m all too aware. I don’t think I’m going to be a problem.”

“It might be if Jungkook helps you sleep every night.”

And there it is.

“We’re just friends, Yoongi. I’m not expecting anything from him.” You felt your heart sink to your feet, trampled on. Yoongi knew.

But why was frustration rising up in the back of your throat?

“Are you sure you’re not expecting anything?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Tension, tension, tension. You hated it.

“You had your chance once, ____, and you walked away. It’s not fair for you to do this to Jungkook again.”

And there it is. The word again .

You swallowed the lump in your throat, lightly tapping the glass of juice with your fingers, willing for the tears to retreat back to where they came from. You cannot afford to cry in front of Yoongi. Or Jungkook. It was too goddamn early.

You did not sign up to have your memories, your insecurities, and your reality laid bare on the kitchen counter.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. Jungkook is my friend. He always will be.”

Vulnerability wasn’t your strongest suit. You weren't your emotions’ best soldier, either. You wanted to yell at Yoongi, shout at him for even implying that you were getting in the way of Jungkook and his dating life.

“Jungkook cannot date freely if he always has to think about coming home to help you sleep,” Yoongi’s words cut like a knife, making you wince. “You know he deserves better than that. You deserve better than that.”

You have very blunt and straightforward friends, and although they keep you grounded, sometimes you hate how they can casually talk to you about your feelings. Sometimes you think they forget that your sunny disposition can also be sometimes moored by rain and storms.

“I’m sorry, ____. That was too much, I—”

“No, Yoongi, it’s okay,” tears have already fallen and you hastily wiped them away, “You’re right, it was my fault. I’m the one who got us into this mess. I’m the one who has the sleeping problem, I’ll— I’ll figure something out, maybe get checked or something…” You kept your eyes glued to the untouched food in front of you. Throat burning, fresh tears threatening to fall once more.

Yoongi’s words stung— but he’s also right. The pain of the unspoken truth you try so hard to push down every day come rising to the surface and you are powerless to stop it.

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but immediately closed it the moment he looked over your shoulder. Your stomach churned because your worst fears weren’t done with you yet— Jungkook was standing by the door.

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Yoongi hyeong.” The only time you heard apparent hostility in Jungkook’s voice was years ago when someone attempted to jump you at a party. Jungkook is always kind, but when irritation, let alone animosity, takes over, he becomes a completely different person.

All you knew was that Jungkook and his girlfriend in tornado form are over.

The music blaring from the speakers were too loud, everyone was all over the place— Jungkook, Yoongi, Taehyung. It was Jungkook’s idea to get wasted at a club. You didn’t always agree with Jungkook’s coping mechanisms, because you knew he was a terrible drinker— someone who couldn’t hold his liquor well.

But he was heartbroken and what do good friends do? Let them cry and wallow.

But right now, it was time to go home. You called a cab for Yoongi and Taehyung, while you and Jungkook got into another. It was a good decision that you didn’t bring your own car. You wouldn’t have any other choice but to drag Jungkook’s drunk ass to the passenger seat and you weren’t sure you could manage that.

You were thankful that Jungkook could still manage to walk, even if he needed to be physically supported by you. You both fumbled for a bit as you closed your apartment door behind you.

“Alright, you big baby, take off your shoes.”

Jungkook did as he was told, but you could tell his body was about to give up on him so you hastily walked him to the bedroom.

You heaved a big sigh after Jungkook collapsed into the mattress. You could hear Jungkook’s breathing slowly steady itself and you honestly thought he was asleep.

“Are you dead?”

When Jungkook didn’t move, a playful smirk painted your lips and you shook your head. You leaned in closer to fluff Jungkook’s pillow, when his head suddenly turned to face you.

With eyes half-lidded, you thought Jungkook looked beautiful underneath the sliver of moonlight shining through the bedroom window. He reeked of alcohol and smoke, but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t help but hold his gaze.

Hesitant fingers reached up to trace the skin on your cheek. Jungkook blinked once as he ran gently ran his fingers from the corner of your eye to your chin.

Jungkook’s voice was so soft, you almost didn't hear him ask, “Why don’t you like me, ____?”

“What are you talking about, of course I like you.”

Jungkook shook his head, “That’s not what I meant…”

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest. You reminded yourself that Jungkook was intoxicated. He wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. He might not even know what he is doing or saying right now.

“Why can’t you love me, ____?” Jungkook swallowed the lump forming in his throat, “because I have loved you for so long and you won’t even look at me.”

You wanted to cry, but you didn’t exactly know why, “That’s not true, Jungkook.”

“Then prove it, ____.”

“I don’t know how.”

Jungkook, in a way, helped you. With eyes focused on your lips, he slowly lifted his head to graze your mouth with his own. When he finally kissed you, your head was spinning that you had to use your arm for support to keep you up.

Jungkook mustered up all of his remaining strength to sit up on the bed to kiss you properly. He cupped your face with his hand and you did the same. Under the same moonlight, you and Jungkook started to take that one step closer to finally acknowledging what has been there all along.

But in your head, you didn’t know what you want.

Lips separated, letting the both of you breathe. Jungkook touched his forehead against yours before his lips planted a light, lingering kiss there.

Your heart sank even deeper and you fought the tears that were about to come.

Because even though you really loved Jungkook, you and he were at the right place at the wrong time.

The next morning, you and Jungkook weren’t the type to dance around each other. He did remember what happened last night.

“I need to know, ____. I need to know what you want.”

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nodded, but you didn’t miss the flash of sadness that passed through his once hopeful eyes.

“Are we still friends at least?”

It took all of you to nod your head in agreement. It was better this way.

“Of course we are.”

“Then that’s all I want, ____.”

Just as Yoongi closed the door behind him and it was just you and Jungkook in the now tense atmosphere of the apartment, confusion flooded you. Dread soon followed upon realizing what had just happened.

You were holding Jungkook back and it’s all your fault. All because you still couldn’t decide what you really want.

When Jungkook finally locked eyes with you, his gentle gaze made your heart flutter. You don’t deserve it, you thought. But you were allured by it-- so easy to get lost in the sea of Jungkook’s beautiful, observant brown eyes, like they were meant to see right through you, heart and soul. Your face slowly morphed into a pain Jungkook didn’t recognize, a sadness he hasn’t seen before. Your bottom lip began to quiver and before you knew it, you full-on sobbed into your hands. Just as quickly as the collapse of everything began, Jungkook was swift on his feet, taking you into his arms.

Jungkook embraces you tightly, his breathing controlled in an effort to curb your sobs. You could hear Jungkook’s heartbeat and it was an odd source of comfort despite the distress you were actively feeling. You felt Jungkook’s large hand stroke your hair in slow motion, chin resting on top of your head as if trying to silently tell you don’t cry.

Being with Jungkook felt like drowning and coming up for air all at the same time— your constant, but also your poison. Yoongi was right, Jungkook deserves to be happy after you blew your chance to tell him how you really felt.

You loved Jungkook, but you had to let him go because he doesn’t deserve to be with someone who cannot make up her mind. When you said no to him a year ago, you thought it was the best for the both of you— Jungkook was hurting and he kissed you because he was drunk and in pain. Not because he loves you. You thought that maybe after some time had passed, what happened that night would just be a distant memory between two friends who had a momentary lapse of judgment.

You have to let him go because it’s the right thing to do, the only way to save the friendship you built over the years. You once saved it, you cannot mess up again. It was selfish, yet so selfless.

When you finally calmed down a little bit more and your breathing slowed, Jungkook loosened his grip. You immediately felt the distance once more, but it was as if Jungkook heard your thoughts because he only pulled away to wipe your tears with his thumbs. Jungkook’s hands cupped your face for a while longer, staring into your teary eyes. Jungkook mumbled an apology as he pressed his forehead with yours. As he closed his eyes, you received a glimpse of Jungkook’s sadness without words.

Loving Jungkook isn’t supposed to be painful.

Jungkook had to meet a new client so that meant he needed to leave the apartment. You could tell it was difficult for him to leave you all alone in the apartment, but Jungkook only asked if you were going to be okay.

You struggled to leave home that day, but you had to because if you didn’t get out and teach dance, you would continue to drown in your own suffering. You both left the apartment with nothing but your unspoken words and broken hearts.

Jungkook would find himself running late for his meeting and he arrived home to what he thought was a dark, empty apartment. Trodding down the hall to your room, he was mildly surprised to see the door was slightly ajar. Lying on the bed was you. Sleeping.

Jungkook quietly entered the room and knelt down by the side of the bed. Staring at you, with the moonlight shining down on your face, you looked serene— a stark contrast to the chaos that transpired earlier that day. Your lips were slightly parted and Jungkook found himself smiling at the sight. He gently ran his knuckles down your cheek. He did that for a while, just intentionally watching and helping you sleep even more peacefully in the gentlest way. Jungkook was thankful that you didn’t seem to be aware that you weren't alone.

You kept your eyes closed as you reveled in the softness of Jungkook’s touch. You initially thought you were dreaming of Jungkook kneeling beside you because after all, the sleep gummies seemed to knock you out enough to fall asleep without him this time. But you realized it wasn’t a dream.

Jungkook came home.

The ache in your heart returned, but at the same time, you wished this moment of Jungkook comforting you never ended. Because at least you could have Jungkook like this.

“Will you stay still, ____? I’m not done yet.”

You pouted as you watched Jungkook draw a bowl of ramen on your leg cast. You injured yourself while attempting to do a tourner for an after-school ballet class. You and Jungkook were now in university and renting an apartment together. Your leg rested on Jungkook’s lap while you both sat on the living room couch. Jungkook slightly had his tongue out while he colored in the ribbons and you scoffed.

“Are you done now?”

“You don’t rush art.”

“Yeah but I’m hungry and I think my leg is asleep.”

Jungkook smirked, “Your leg being in a cast doesn’t really have a choice given the circumstances, what did you expect?” You smacked him with a pillow, “You asshole, give me my leg back.”

“Ow! Nuh uh. I’m almost done.”

You huffed, feigning annoyance. But you were actually endeared with Jungkook’s enthusiasm to draw a different object on your leg cast every week. The moment you got out of the hospital and after Jungkook fed you some jjampong, he carried you to the same living room couch and drew the yellow umbrella he used the day you bought hotteok. The following week, it was a sketch of a person dancing ballet which Jungkook referred to as, “the loveliest ballet dancer in the universe.” This week, it was ballet shoes hanging on one side of the backrest of a chair.

“There, done!” Jungkook slightly pulled away to admire his work then he turned and gave you his dorkiest smile. You could never ask for more.

Weeks passed as you and Jungkook fell into usual routine. You can no longer recall since when you started having a hard time communicating feelings. It wasn’t like you and Jungkook fought a lot because you almost never do. But there’s always that elephant in the room that neither of you choose to address even though it’s already staring back at you both.

On Jungkook’s birthday, Taehyung decided it would be good for you all to spend your time at a club after having dinner. From the get-go, the people in attendance were the birthday boy, Taehyung, Yoongi, you, and Mia.

Needless to say, you were awkward and in pain the entire time.

It was your first time to actually see Jungkook pay attention to someone else in a romantic way. Although he and Mia have yet to put a label on anything, they continued to date, much to your misery.

At the birthday dinner, you tried your best not to look at Jungkook and Mia the whole time, but by some strange magnetic force, everytime you unconsciously looked at Jungkook, his eyes found you.

Come to think of it, Mia was the clingy one the whole night. But maybe you were just misinterpreting things. When Taehyung suggested they go to a club, you internally groaned. Not only was this a repeat performance of what you did wrong a year ago, but it was also like salt being rubbed on a wound that never completely healed well.

“Fuck it, let’s get wasted,” you thought. You weren’t about to let your misery ruin a fun night.

So much for that, though. You couldn’t even pay attention to your drink because Mia was already trying to get too close to Jungkook. The whole time, Jungkook’s expressions were unreadable. One of his many stupid traits, you sarcastically thought.

You don't know exactly what happened after— Jungkook went to the bar to order more drinks for the table, followed not too long by Mia. She was relentless in flirting with Jungkook who seemed stoic and indifferent and awkward. Mia must have been really bad at reading people. Still, she didn’t give up that easily because she dragged Jungkook to the middle of the dance floor and tried to get him to dance.

Maybe you just wanted to see what you wanted to, but if you really were in the right frame of mind, you swore you saw Jungkook finally give in and dance with her.

Jungkook was having fun with someone else on his birthday. This is what he deserves— to be happy and free. Jungkook doesn’t have to sacrifice his time just to help you sleep every night.

You felt like you were about to throw up. The room started spinning and suddenly all you could hear were muffled sounds of the music bass. Before you knew it, you were making your way to the exit. You needed to get out. You faintly heard Taehyung calling out to you, asking what was wrong but the tightness in your chest demanded much of your attention.

When you reached the exit, you pushed the door all the way with all your might and started to walk. You were relieved for once that you weren’t able to drink a drop because you needed a clear head to get home safely. The club was a short distance from the apartment and all you wanted to do was lie in bed and cry yourself to sleep.

It has been weeks. Weeks of skirting around Jungkook, acting like nothing was amiss. It worked for a while, but you knew it would backfire eventually.

You didn’t think this plan of ignoring feelings would fail you so soon. You thought you were stronger.

Your hands were shaking so badly that you struggled to enter the correct passcode to the door: 090197.

You cursed at the irony.

Not bothering to turn on the lights, you stumbled in the dark and took off your heels. You went straight to your room and collapsed on the bed. You let the tears stain his pillow. This isn’t new to you now— crying. It somehow helped you sleep, anyway. Right now, you don't care if you cried your eyes raw. You were hurt, in pain, and you didn’t know what to do.

Nights felt like an eternity for an insomniac like you. Your thoughts were your biggest enemy in the dead of night and most of the time you are powerless to control them. You shouldn’t have allowed Jungkook to help you in the first place. Otherwise, you wouldn’t find yourself in this predicament. You’ve already kept your distance before, why did you fail again now? You should’ve known your place, the order in this world. You were Jungkook’s best friend, and you decided that for the both of you that day you told him you were sorry.

Ruminating thoughts can be a bitch because it makes you oblivious to your surroundings in real time.

You suddenly felt the other side of the bed dip. You heard sheets rustle and felt a different kind of warmth-- the kind that only your best friend could give.

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and breathed in your scent. In the silence of your room, Jungkook, once again, came home to you.

Both of you didn’t speak for a long while, just listening to each other’s rhythm. You felt your bottom lip quiver— you were on the verge of crying again and as you started to sit up and perhaps leave, you felt Jungkook tighten his grip as he clasped his fingers together, securing you in place.

“Please don’t cry.”

You swallowed and tried to reply, but your voice cracked instead, “Why are you here, Jungkook?”

“I want to stay here with you.”

“It’s your birthday.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then why?”

“Like I said, I want to stay here with you.”

Like wildfire, your heart swelled even when your brain told you not to fall for Jungkook’s words. That you were only reading too much into things, “What about—”

“I told them I wanted to go home because you already did. I turned around to look for you because I heard the barista said there were french fries, but you weren’t at the table anymore.”

Tears started to stream down your face and you were grateful you weren't facing Jungkook.

“I hate being the reason why you always cry, ____. I have done absolutely nothing to make things better for you and I keep making you feel sad.” Jungkook’s voice was laced with tight emotion and it was something you were hearing for the first time. Jungkook buried himself deeper in the crook of your neck.

“It hurts so much, Jungkook.”

Lifting his head, Jungkook moved in closer to whisper in your ear, “I know. I know. I’m so sorry.”

You breathed a deep sigh as you willed away the tears. Right on cue, Jungkook gently turned your body to face him. “That’s better,” Jungkook gently smiled, pushing strands of hair away from your face.

With Jungkook’s right arm under your head and his left engulfing you in an embrace, you curled into Jungkook’s chest. No matter what pain you may be feeling, it all dissipates once you’re with Jungkook.

“I am so sorry, ____. I’m sorry I keep running away.”

You let a small smile take over his lips, “No, Jungkook. You don’t have to apologize. All of this is my fault”

“It’s not… it’s not your fault. It’s mine,” you saw Jungkook swallow. You looked over Jungkook’s shoulder, at the clock situated on top of the side table. Thirty minutes left until Jungkook's birthday ends.

“It’s still your birthday. You shouldn’t be spending it apologizing for something you didn’t do.”

“I am enjoying my birthday because I haven’t lost you yet. And it is my fault, stop fighting me.” Jungkook smiled. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Especially under moonlit skies.”

“I don’t think so. Not yet.”

“Then allow me to tell you now. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful person inside out and I am so lucky to have you. Thank you for not leaving me.”

You scooted closer to Jungkook, trying to fill in all the spaces in between.

It was almost a whisper and you almost didn’t hear it, “Sleep well my silly, beautiful darling,” your eyes flutter close as you felt Jungkook give you a kiss on your temple— a reassuring one, this time.

“Hey.”

You jumped at the sound of Jungkook’s unusually low voice. “Shit,” you mumbled, earning a pretty smile from Jungkook. “How long have you been standing there?”

The smile didn’t leave Jungkook’s face as he apologized and said with all honesty, “A while.”

You have been spending more late nights in the studio since you and Taehyung started offering additional classes. You held a beginner’s ballet class for children after school hours and you felt you had to spend more time thinking about their routines. Kids need structure, lest their attention becomes too difficult to get a hold of. Jungkook, being the sweetest, always stayed up to wait for you to get home and eat dinner together.

This time around, Jungkook decided to pick you up from the studio.

You took in the sight of Jungkook who was leaning against the door frame, wearing a cream oversized sweater and white pants. Even in the dimly lit room, Jungkook’s handsome face was radiant.

Seeing him feels like coming home.

Jungkook walked up to you with his hands in his pockets, “I always get caught up in your world whenever I watch you dance. That hasn’t changed.” He was suddenly standing so close to you that you had to clear his throat. Yet you didn’t pull away, either.

“Time passes when that world is not working in my favor,” you said as you rolled your shoulders backward.

“Is this the ballet class for the kids?”

You hummed in response, “One would think it’s easy enough to make a routine for little kids when really, going back to basics sometimes is the hardest thing.”

“What did you use to tell me?” Jungkook asked warmly, all innocence and love, but you recognized that tone of his.

“Jungkook—”

“Help me remember, ____. How did we do it back then? When we couldn’t figure out a new routine,” you heard the heels of Jungkook’s white chelsea boots clatter against the wooden floor as he stepped away a bit from you.

You were taken back to your days in the dance club with Jungkook, the two of you in a smaller studio after school practicing for competitions. You and Jungkook were the group’s best dancers and that also meant you were almost always tasked to come up with new choreography. You recalled how you and Jungkook used to practice no matter how long it took.

Right now, at this very moment, as Jungkook gently urges you to remind you of those days, you appreciated what he was trying to do.

“I’d always tell you, ‘I’m tired, I don’t want to do this anymore,’”

“Hm, and how did I respond?” Jungkook’s eyes never left your face and his voice was so low, that it sent shivers up your spine.

“You’d tell me we didn’t have to do the things other people ask us to dance… not right now.” you breathed as Jungkook’s face inched closer to yours, so close that you could already hear Jungkook’s heartbeat.

“And then?”

“We’d dance. For ourselves, together.”

Just as the words escaped your lips, Jungkook slightly pulled away to take his phone out of his pocket, scroll through a playlist, the very same playlist Jungkook uses whenever you both lounge around on a Sunday morning. He found the song he was looking for and pressed play.

Jungkook put his phone back in his pocket and whispered, “We dance. For ourselves, together.” He wrapped an arm around your waist while his other hand trailed down to hold your own, intertwining both sets of fingers. Falling, you easily melted into Jungkook, your worries about the ballet routines already forgotten.

With bodies pressed close, you felt your heart plummet to a deep dive into your stomach, leaving butterflies as it burst into a million pretty pieces. Jungkook was never one for sweet words, always choosing to convey his thoughts and feelings through his art. He had given you plenty of his work over the years, drawn on crumpled tissue papers or on the back of receipts. Always in all honesty quietly telling you he was there for you no matter what.

And through dance, he was the same— loving, thoughtful, yours.

“It has been a while since you last danced, right?”

Jungkook leans his forehead into yours, his eyes focused on the floor. He hums his response as he starts to lead the dance.

“It has been a while since I last danced with you,” Jungkook whispered. “Dance with me so I remember, my love.”

You close your eyes, resting your chin on Jungkook’s shoulder, “Remember what, Jungkook?”

“Help me remember everything good about you and me.”

And although Jungkook couldn’t see it, you smile as you tilt your head to the side. You let Jungkook lead the both of you to the melody of the music for a good few minutes until you fell into a slow, swaying rhythm.

“I missed dancing with you like this,” you swore you felt Jungkook tighten his hold around your middle a little bit more. Jungkook dropped a kiss to your bare shoulder and said with all reverence, “I miss you, ____.”

He misses you, not missed. You never wanted to let him go.

You didn’t want to stop touching Jungkook so as you continued to allow your feet to be led by him, you ran a trail using your hand from Jungkook’s shoulders, landing on his chest. Jungkook ran his own hand at the expanse of your back, waiting, waiting.

“And I miss you too,” you said with a smile. Jungkook cupped your face and ran a thumb to your cheekbone. Never leaving your eyes, he responded, “It’s always a pleasure to dance with you, ____.”

“I always seem more eager to dance when I’m with you,” you said.

And I always love dancing with you.

“That’s because we know each other’s moves well. We’re in sync no matter how long it’s been.”

Tentatively, you respond, “Maybe we should do it again… more often, this time.”

“I wouldn’t mind that at all. I’ll dance with you forever.”

You and Jungkook went home that night and slept once more in each other’s arms. You noticed a change this time. You felt peaceful, more hopeful. Jungkook didn’t say anything definitive, still, but maybe his heart did.

And you fell into a quiet sleep as soon as Jungkook kissed your temple. This time, his kiss was more intentional, more heartfelt, like he never wants to let you go.

Not again.

You woke up the next morning still reeling from the dance you shared with Jungkook. Always the romantic, you thought as you shook your head. Usually, Jungkook was already up and about before you even opened one eye, but life continues to surprise you.

Jungkook was sitting on the bed, drawing on his iPad. You couldn’t believe it at first— you rubbed sleep out of your eyes and looked at your own phone for the time. It was 8 o’clock and Jungkook was drawing.

The minute you moved, Jungkook was attentive. He stopped drawing as he turned to you to mumble a good morning.

“Good morning to you, too. What are you doing so early in the morning?”

“Oh, I woke up earlier—”

Cutting him off, you teased, “You always do.”

Jungkook chuckled, the crinkles in around his eyes so evident, so endearing, “Yeah. Um… I just— the morning light through the window was just so beautiful and I had to draw it.”

“You drew a sunrise at 8 o’clock?”

You rolled your eyes as Jungkook said matter-of-factly, “Actually, 6 o’clock… but no, I didn’t draw the sunrise, not exactly.”

“Then what did you draw?”

Instead of responding, Jungkook gave you his iPad. You realized Jungkook drew you. Jungkook used digital watercolor brushes to paint a picture of you sleeping with your bedroom window behind you. Sunlight accentuated the side of your face, expression tranquil.

“It’s not finished yet, I need to fill in some of the—“

“It’s beautiful, Jungkook.”

“You always say that, ____.”

“Because your works are beautiful. Every single one of them,” you couldn’t stop admiring Jungkook’s work. You felt your throat constrict once more, emotions starting to take over. This isn’t the first time Jungkook drew you, but it’s definitely the first time you felt something different after seeing his art— a love that continues to blossom, a love for Jungkook that never withered. For the past few weeks, you felt like you were slowly coming to terms with you and him being just best friends, but after last night, you were starting to backslide.

You will always love Jungkook no matter what— you know that now. Maybe not in the way you want, but Jungkook will continue to have a special hold on your heart that no one else can replace.

“Thank you for this, Gguk-ah. Can we print and frame this? When you’re done, that is.”

“Of course, ____. I’m glad you like it.”

One of the things you and Jungkook appreciate about the apartment is the silence because it’s never an awkward one. In silence, you’re both comfortable— awkward and pain and everything else in between. In the shared space, you and Jungkook are free to love one another.

In silence, you also hear each other’s hunger. You giggled as Jungkook turned beet red. After all these years of living together, Jungkook still tended to be embarrassed around you. One of the many adorable Jeon Jungkook traits that you love.

“That’s my cue to make breakfast.”

You stood up and ran a hand through your hair before pocketing your phone. Jungkook didn’t move an inch. You didn’t think much of it, but just as you were about to walk out the door, Jungkook called out to you and scrambled to his feet.

Mornings with Jungkook more often than not are calm, but when you saw Jungkook walk up the short distance to where you were standing, his gaze so strong, your heart began to race. Because you were standing too close to each other, you felt Jungkook take a deep breath before uttering the words you never thought you’d hear from him.

“Don’t leave me.”

At first, you thought you heard wrong. A few seconds later your brain told you that maybe it was Jungkook’s way of saying that he wanted you both to stay in bed a little while longer because after all, it was a Sunday.

But then a third thought came to you, the most dreaded one— what if?

“S-say that again.”

It was physically impossible for Jungkook to get even closer to you. The wide smile drawn on his face made all the difference.

“Don’t leave me.”

Like a bucket of cold water doused on you, you couldn’t believe what Jungkook was really trying to tell you. Your childhood best friend, the man of your dreams. The one person who will move mountains for you without being asked is trying to tell you something you longed to hear.

“Say that again… o-one more time.”

Tears threatened to flow from your sparkling eyes and Jungkook was quick to hold you small face in his hands, “____. Please… don’t ever leave me.”

You struggled not to cry so much upon finally understanding what Jungkook was really trying to say. You wanted to respond to Jungkook’s plea, but all that came out was a sob. Jungkook peppered your face with soft kisses down to your jaw. You found yourself holding on to Jungkook, grip like a vice. You don't want to let him go. You will never.

Not again.

You tried your best to properly respond this time, “Don’t worry, Gguk. I will never, ever leave you.” You ran your knuckles down Jungkook’s face, “I was just going to make us breakfast because you’re hungry.”

Jungkook laughed at how you could still manage to make an intimate moment so endearing. He held your wrist and kissed the palm of your hand before leaning in to finally kiss you full on your lips. His kiss was tentative at first until he decided to be bolder, silently asking you to let him in. You readily gave Jungkook access to kiss you even deeper. Like wildfire, heat spreads throughout your body— this is what it feels like to kiss Jungkook without reservation. This is what it feels like to kiss your best friend, no holds barred.

Overwhelmed with affection, you felt yourself being lifted by Jungkook and your legs automatically cling to his waist. The position gave him an even better angle to kiss the person he has longed for almost all his life, “How long, Jungkook? How long have you really liked me?”

You didn’t think Jungkook would immediately understand what you were trying to ask, “Since that day I asked you to dance with me under the rain.”

Jungkook saw the look of recognition in your eyes. He knew you knew what he was referring to. “I have always been in love with you, ____. I just… I was so scared of you rejecting me that I thought it was best if I kept my feelings to myself. I tried dating other people because I thought maybe that would help me get to know others better.”

And as if Jungkook could read your mind, he kissed your forehead before talking again.

“I don’t regret kissing you that night… I was drunk, but I was sober enough to know and remember what I said. We broke up because she told me I was always distracted. I always thought of you everywhere we went. She told me I never really moved on… that I still call out your name even when I was with someone else. When you told me no then, I knew it was my fault for not thinking things through. It was my mistake that I didn’t communicate with you better, ____. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t have a lot of words to respond with, not after that speech from Jungkook so you only asked ever so meekly, “And Mia?”

“I told her we were better off as friends. She took it quite well than I expected. I think deep down, she knew too.”

“Knew what?”

“That I was undeniably, irrevocably in love with you.”

“Do you really have to use big adjectives?”

Jungkook shrugged and chuckled, “Makes for good conversation. I’m trying to communicate better, remember?”

It was your turn to chuckle and lean your forehead against his.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, ____. I put you through so much pain and I just let it happen.”

You shook your head, wanting to let Jungkook know this wasn’t all on him.

“If anything, you have always made me so happy, Jungkook. I don’t get to show you how much all the time.”

“Can we start over?” Jungkook looked at you, full of hope.

“I would love that.”

“I love you, ____.”

My best friend in this entire world, whom I love.

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

My best friend in this entire world, who loves me back.

Your hotteok was already paid for by Jungkook before you even had the chance to pay for it yourself. “It’s all taken care of,” Jungkook said.

Both of you were already hungry from running so you decided to eat right there under the hotteok stand. You could see a black car parked across the street and assumed that it must be Mr. Hong-sik. You both ate in silence for a while, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain until you felt Jungkook tugging your sleeve.

“What’s wrong?”

“Come on, ____”

“Where are we going?”

“There!”

You looked to where Jungkook was pointing with his finger. There was nothing there but the school.

“You want to go back to where we came from?”

“Not really. School is boring,” Jungkook mused and before you knew it, you were being pulled in the middle of pouring rain.

“What are you doing, Jungkook? We are going to get wet!”

“We already are, ____! Come on!”

You both had to shout over the steady noise of the rain. You realized Jungkook wasn’t kidding— he was really under the rain, in the middle of the school’s wide, open space, waiting for you to join him.

“You are insane, Jeon Jungkook!” you shouted, but he just grinned that much harder. He took both your hands and led you to jump and dance in the rain.

“Maybe I am, but it’s fun to dance in the rain with someone else!”

You felt so glad to be living the same time with someone as Jungkook after that day.

The day you will forever be grateful for.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts jungkook #bts au #mwillow: perhaps love #bts fanfiction

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rhoorl · 6 months

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Are You on Mute?

Pairing: Benny Miller x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

AO3 Link

Summary: You’re working from home and on an important call when Benny returns from the gym and has other plans for you.

Warning: Smut, with some plot? Established relationship. Oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V (practice safe sex IRL), Benny Miller comes with his own warning. Unbeta’d. I wrote a lot of this on my phone so forgive any errors. A/N: Benny was just hanging out in my head waiting his turn as I write my other fics and then got impatient and kicked down a door and was like, hey, can you write something for me? So, this is it. I could not think of anything else until I got this down on paper. Here’s the initial mood board that got this idea kicked off.

You groan when your alarm goes off. The monthly meeting with your international-based team is the reason you’re up at this ungodly hour. Luckily, Benny is still fast asleep, curled on his side facing you. It takes everything in you to not lean over and brush the hair out of his face, but you don't dare disturb his peaceful slumber.

His hair has gotten so much longer since you first met. He’s never confirmed it, but you’re fairly confident now that he's intentionally grown it out over the past several months thanks to an off-hand comment you made one of the first times you trimmed his hair as a favor. You still remember how mortified you were when you let it slip that you thought he'd look hot if he grew it out. As embarrassing as it was, it finally gave him the push he needed to ask you out.

He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake up as you slip out of bed and pad over to the bathroom to get ready. Checking your phone, you remember that this morning consists of back-to-back meetings, including your department’s all-hands call where you are on tap to share your team’s updates for the month.

Since getting your promotion, your boss has been trying to give you more and more responsibility and this meeting is one of them. Even though you loathe public speaking, you appreciate the opportunity. And Benny is your biggest cheerleader too, so proud of not only how quickly you’ve been able to move up the ranks, but that you're finally back doing something you love.

Since you are going to be on camera quite a bit today, you decide to actually do your hair and put on some light makeup – a far cry from your usual work-from-home routine where you couldn't be bothered to put on contacts most days. You head into your walk-in closet, closing the door behind you so you can turn the light on and not disturb Benny, whose snores you can hear through the closed door.

You want to stay comfy so you decide to keep your sleep shorts on and just change your top to something professional. Oh, the joys of only appearing from the chest up in a small box on a screen. You grab your favorite sweater, laughing to yourself at the exchange you know you’re bound to have with Benny. He’s going to ask you how you can wear a sweater in Florida during the summer and you will remind him that it's because he and Will insist on keeping the house at a frigid temperature.

Heading back out to the room, you slip off Benny’s shirt you slept in and put on your bra followed by your sweater. You finish off the look with a necklace Benny got you for your birthday. He stirs a bit, stretching his long limbs and reaching for your spot in the bed as he yawns.

"Hey sleepyhead, got that early call, go back to bed," you whisper, leaning over to give him a kiss on the forehead as he mumbles something about how pretty you look and turns over.

You rush to the kitchen to brew yourself a cup of coffee and grab a muffin your neighbor dropped off over the weekend. Settling into your desk you reach for your favorite pen and notebook, log onto your computer, and click on the calendar invite to launch your first Zoom call of the day.

The meeting drones on and on. About a half hour in, the door softly opens and Benny pokes his head in. He's thrown half of his hair up in a bun, the bottom section flowing down to his shoulders. He's dressed for the gym wearing a cut-off shirt and basketball shorts. Just the sight of him sends a delicious shudder through your body, remembering how he expertly took you apart last night.

"You on mute?" He mouths to you, eyes moving to your laptop.

"Yup," you quickly glance over.

"K, well, I'm gonna go to the office real quick and then the gym. Should be back by lunch."

"Sounds good."

"Love you. You're gonna kick ass today babe."

You smirk, looking over to him, "Thanks, Bun. Love you too. Say hi to Will."

He laughs at your nickname for him and softly closes the door.

The meeting ends early so you have time to get up, stretch, and refill your coffee. As you wait for it to brew you look outside, admiring the flower beds. Deciding you're due for a change of scenery, you relocate your things to the kitchen table for your next meeting.

________

You're second on the agenda to speak, the nerves starting to build as Tim from operations gives his update. Your boss pops into your shared chat with some words of encouragement that make you smile.

Your senior vice president then announces that you're taking over for your boss for today's update, congratulating you on your recent promotion. You take a deep breath, click yourself off mute, share your screen, and begin going through your PowerPoint deck.

You feel yourself absolutely crushing it, thankful that Benny let you run through your presentation the night before. You only have a few more slides left when you hear the garage door followed by the slam of Benny's car door a few moments later. He opens the door, stopping in his tracks when he sees you at the kitchen table.

“Sorry!" He whispers while wincing, looking apologetic.

Your eyes shift quickly from him back to your screen as you continue on with your update. Off camera, you wave him in so he tiptoes inside and drops his bag. Glancing up at him, you clear your throat, trying to not react. He clearly had a vigorous workout, his shirt clinging to him like it's painted on. He also has all of his sweaty hair wrapped up in a low bun.

A mischievous look flashes in his eyes, seeing how affected you are by the sight of him. You can feel his gaze on you as you continue. On another quick glance up you see him pulling his hair out of the hair tie, shaking his locks loose before flipping his head down and back. It's honestly not fair how good his hair looks after doing this, hair perfectly tousled and messy.

You lose your train of thought, pausing for a second to grab a sip of water to compose yourself. It doesn't help that you can see Benny out of the corner of your eye leaning against the kitchen counter looking at you. You just know he has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face, loving the effect he has.

"Ok, I think that covers our updates. Any questions?" You ask, looking across the boxes on the screen for any follow-ups.

You groan to yourself when Renee from HR has a question, she never listens and always makes people repeat themselves on these calls. As you listen to her question, you look up from your screen to see Benny. He's got a dark look in his eyes and a half smile as he starts to peel his shirt off revealing the six-pack he's been working so hard on, much to your delight.

You let out a shaky breath before responding to Renee as he saunters around to sit opposite of you across the table, drinking the last of his water bottle. You see the bob of his Adam’s apple out of the corner of your eye.

Despite his intense stare, you cannot bring yourself to look at him, instead pressing your thighs together for some relief. The slick starts to pool in your underwear.

"Great, well, wonderful update, we'll move to events next," your senior vice president chimes in, continuing down the agenda.

You click the mute button and let out a shaky breath.

"You on mute?" Benny whispers in a voice lower than his natural register.

Leaning forward, you bring your elbows to rest on the table making a fist with your hands in front of your mouth to hide your lips as you talk.

"Yup."

"You're fucking amazing you know that." His eyes soften as your eyes shift to him, so much adoration on his face.

"Thanks, baby. And thanks for not making noise in the kitchen. But make yourself something to eat, you must be hungry."

"Oh, I'm starving sweetheart," he winks and you whimper. He's teasing you and having fun at your expense. "It was so hot watching you, boss lady. I'm just sittin' like, that's my girl, she's a badass."

You smirk, amused at how turned on Benny gets when you're in work mode despite the fact he really doesn't understand what you actually do. It was sweet how enthusiastic he always was in his encouragement of you and your pursuits.

"Well, thanks. But seriously, we have like another half an hour left so don't wait up. Eat.”

His tongue glides across his bottom lip as he cocks his head to the side, looking slowly from your eyes to your lips. “If you insist.”

He slides the chair back and drops to his knees, crawling underneath the table. You figure he must have dropped something until you feel his hand wrap around your ankle, causing you to yelp.

“Fuck you scared me,” you said behind clasped hands.

“Shh…you’re in your meeting,” he murmurs as he trails kisses up your calf, making you giggle.

You try hard to keep a poker face and not react as you feel both of his calloused hands grasp behind your knees. He keeps kissing up and down your legs, his stubble tickling you.

“B-baby, what’re doing, I’m on a call,” you’re nearly panting. He’s shuffling to readjust to find a better position. You know he can't be comfortable since his tall frame barely fits underneath the table as it is.

His mouth is greedier now, skimming up your knees to your thighs. He stops briefly as he moves his hands up to the waistband of your shorts. Again, you are trying to keep your face neutral when all you want to do is let your eyes roll back in your head and let him hear how much he is turning you on. Benny always loved how vocal you were. As his long fingers curl underneath your waistband you feel his frame move up as he tries to pull down your shorts.

“Shit,” he hisses as his head hits the table. “Fuck.”

“You ok?” you move your head down to look at him, finding his bright blue eyes looking up from between your legs under the table.

“Yea, uh…little help?”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, bringing your index and middle finger to rest over your lips as you try to not move your mouth too much while you tell him you can’t fucking believe you’re doing this right now.

He palms your pussy causing you to exhale sharply. “You seem pretty ready to me,” he chuckles, tapping your hip so you can lift yourself up and help him take your shorts and underwear off in one move.

Your breathing is picking up now as you sit there bare, Benny between your legs, as you listen to Don from facilities drone on and on about…parking spaces? You honestly aren’t sure and have tuned out the meeting completely.

“Babe,�� you whine, waiting for his next move as you slouch in the chair a bit to give him a better angle.

His fingers come to your folds, spreading your lips apart. You hear a low, guttural sound coming from under the table, making you squirm with anticipation over what he may do next.

He’s made strides in his oral game since you’ve been together. You suspect Frankie has something to do with it, knowing his friend has to have given him some advice or tips. Some of the new moves he’s put on you in recent months sound a lot like what Frankie’s girlfriend mentioned once when all the girls met up for a night out. Regardless of how he’s gotten there, you have benefitted from his willingness to practice and get better.

He licks a long steady stripe up before stopping to focus on your clit, flicking his tongue as his large hands come to knead your soft flesh from your hips to your ass. You rock into him off instinct, and you’re dying to reach down and thread your fingers through his hair and tug his face closer to you.

The steady murmur from the call suddenly stops and you refocus to see everyone staring at their screens like they’re waiting for someone to talk. It’s then you register Renee repeating a question directed to you.

You pull yourself off of mute, clearing your throat and trying to keep calm as you reiterate a point you previously made during the call. Meanwhile, Benny starts fucking you with his tongue. You cough to stifle your whimper, and you reach down to grasp Benny’s hair and pull him off of you. He kisses your thighs and you can practically feel his smirk, the smug bastard is loving this.

When you’ve sufficiently answered Renee’s question, you put yourself back on mute, triple-checking your screen before you chastise your boyfriend. “Benjamin Spencer Miller, you are a fucking menace.”

He snorts, “You love it.”

He starts working you over again, your breathing picking up as you stare at the clock in the lower right-hand corner of your computer screen. Benny can sense your frustration. He moves back to your clit, one of his fingers breaching your folds and pumping in and out of you, a second finger added not too long after. You lean back in your chair, bringing your palm over your mouth as you moan into your hand.

“Ok, well team, great updates from everyone. I’ll give you all back some time in your day. Have a great one.”

With a tight smile, you quickly wave to everyone on the screen before abruptly slamming your laptop shut and sliding your chair back.

Benny crawls from under the table, hands on the ground as he looks up at you, his chin glistening from your slick. His hair falls over his face, covering his eyes as he shakes it off.

You cock your head to the side and roll your eyes. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“You loved it,” he moves to kneel in front of you, his hands resting on your hips as he rubs circles. “Plus, I had to get you back,” he winked and then winced as he straightened his torso.

“Your back is killing you isn’t it,” you run your fingers through his hair.

“Yea, it really fucking is, that angle was shit” he laughs.

“Well, how about we go somewhere more comfortable?”

“When’s your next meeting?”

You look at the clock on your oven, “Don’t have another one til 1.”

“I guess that will do,” Benny says as he gets up and you see his shorts tented.

“Babe, that’s like in over an hour from now, I’m not gonna last long once you start again,” you giggle into his kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He works your sweater up and over your head and undoes your bra with one hand, eliciting a groan from you as he cups your breasts once they’re freed.

“It's not enough…could have you all day and it still wouldn't be enough,” he smiles into your kiss, walking you backward down the hallway to your shared bedroom.

Once you get to the room, he kicks the door shut behind him. “On the bed.” As you shuffle yourself up the bed he tilts his head from side to side. “Over under… three.”

You roll your eyes, “Jesus Christ, Benny. Seriously? You’re gonna make a bet on how many times?”

“Over or under three,” he persists with a mischievous smile.

You rest your elbows onto the bed, as you ponder your response. “Push.”

“Clever girl, Will teachin’ you about sports betting behind my back, huh,” he laughs.

“Benny. Please don’t talk about your brother while I’m naked, that’s like the biggest tease.”

He throws his head back laughing. “Sorry. Anyway, where were we?” He arches his eyebrow.

You open your legs for him, running your hands up your thighs as he takes off his shorts and practically sprints over to the bed, making you giggle. He has such a knack for oscillating between hot and sensual and downright goofy and you love him for it.

It doesn’t take very long until you’re screaming his name as he takes you apart with the deliciously lethal combination of his tongue and his fingers.

“There’s one.”

He doesn’t even look up at you as he starts again. Your grip on his hair presses his face so close to your pussy that you hope he’s able to breathe. You buck your hips up as he brings his forearm to rest on your lower stomach helping pin you down. It doesn’t take long until you feel the pressure starting to build as you spill over the edge.

“Two.”

You bring your hands up to your face, brushing your hair out of your face, and giggling. “I can’t believe you’re fucking keeping score.”

He chuckles as he skims up your body, stopping every so often to kiss or nip along the way. You can feel how hard he is as his dick rests along your thigh. He now moves his attention to your breasts - one of his favorite parts of you. You roll your eyes knowing that he stopped here because his competitive ass is definitely going to make you come one more time before he actually fucks you.

He alternates palming your breast and teasing your nipple between his thumb and middle finger. For your other, the one he realized long ago is the more sensitive of the two, he uses his tongue to flick over your hardened nipple before taking the rest in his mouth. He keeps at this for a while until your brain starts to short-circuit and your breathing grows ragged. You’re thankful that Will isn’t home because you can't help the sounds Benny is pulling from you.

“Three.”

“Ben I swear to God if you don’t get inside me right now.”

He looks up at you, a coy smile coming across his face, “Yes, ma’am.”

He shuffles to line himself up, and just as he’s about to push himself in you bring your hands to his shoulders and roll him over so you’re on top.

“Oh no, I get to play a little too,” you bite your lower lip as you lower yourself on him, both of you letting out a groan.

He brings his hands to your thighs, trailing them up your body. “Fuck, you’re still so fucking wet. You feel so good, baby.”

You start to rock, loving the way he feels. It’s his turn to throw his head back now, whimpering as you pick up the pace. The room is filled with squelching sounds and your combined moans.

“C’mon baby,” he pants.

“Fuck, Benny. S’good, I’m so close.”

He snaps his hips up a little harder and you feel him deeper, finding that spot that you never knew existed until Benny.

“B-Benny, fuuuuck,” you scream as you fall over, whimpering in his ear and you come again. It takes a few more thrusts before you feel him fill you up, a ragged moan coming from deep in his throat.

You both still for a moment, catching your breaths. He kisses you, cupping your face with one hand as you thread both of your hands through his hair to keep him where he is as you work through the aftershocks.

When you finally pull back, his eyes dart between yours before a mischievous smile comes back across his lips.

“Don’t you say it, Ben.” you roll your eyes, laughing at his feeble attempt to not crack up.

“Ok, I’m sorry.” He snorts before kissing you again. He groans slightly as you pull off of him and sits up on the bed, pulling you to his chest. “I love you.” He kisses the top of your head. “And I’m so proud of you, boss lady.”

This nickname still makes you laugh. It was refreshing to have a partner who not only cared about your career aspirations but who encouraged it and cheered you on.

“I love you too Buns.” You rub your fingers along his chest.

“You know who’s amazing?”

You laugh. He's going a bit overboard with the praise. “Who…me?”

He shakes his head. “No babe, me. I made you come four times. I win!” He pumps his fist.

“Jesus, of course, you’d say that,” you laugh, smacking him on the chest before cuddling into him, your safe place. “Shit, I really need to get back to work.”

“Anymore calls today?” He raised his eyebrow.

“A couple, but I’m taking them from the office because I know you can’t fit under that desk.”

“Ooo sounds like a challenge,” he waggled his eyebrows, tickling your side as you both laughed.

A/N: If you made it this far, thank you for reading! I’m still dipping my toes into the smutty waters, but how can you resist Benny?

I’m tagging @musings-of-a-rose @itspdameronthings @bloodyinspirationaldemon @laurfilijames @secretelephanttattoo @anavatazes @undercoverpena @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @trulybetty because you all either commented or reblogged my mood board - sorry if you didn’t want the tag!

#benny miller fanfiction #benny miller x reader #benny miller x female reader #benny miller #triple frontier fic #triple frontier

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spiderluvbot · 1 year

Text

𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗗𝗟𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 ─── 🇪🇹🇭🇦🇳 🇱🇦🇳🇩🇷🇾.

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, smut.

pairing(s): spiderman!ethan landry x fem!reader.

words: 2.2k

warnings: mdni, unprotected p in v (don't do that), cockwarming, mentions of blood, descriptive wounds.

author's note: based on this request.

it took me a long time to post this since it's the first smut i write and i have no idea if it's good or not but it tried my best, i surprisingly like the first part. i have a sort of prequel in mind so if anyone would like that let me know.

You could still remember the first time you helped Ethan, you had just come back from work when you got welcomed by the sight of your window broken and a trail of blood going down the wall. At the time you hadn't known it was him and expected the worst, after all, new york wasn't the safest of places. That day not only had you given your favorite superhero a concussion, you had also found out he happened to be the boy Tara had been trying to set you up with.

There wasn't much you could do at the time considering that he was passed out and you only had some rubbing alcohol and like three band-aids, but in his moments of lucidness he wouldn't let you take him to a hospital, so you made do with what you had and proceeded to buy a first aid kit the day after, just in case. By the third month of your relationship this had become usual, you spent many nights convincing your boyfriend to come to you so he wouldn't die of blood loss on someone's rooftop (or infect his wounds due to not properly taking care of them). You had even taken a course, making your friends confused as to why you were suddenly worried about knowing everything there was to know about nursing.

Now, a year after finding out his secret, it had become almost a ritual for him to visit you after a night of patrolling. Your window stayed open like every other night, the cool spring breeze coming through as you waited for him and tried not to think about the fact that he was two hours late. Your eyes kept glancing from your homework to the time displayed on your computer screen and you wondered if your little tradition would be broken today.

Dropping your pencil, you sigh and grab your phone. The leg you were mindlessly dangling seconds ago now bouncing rapidly while you questioned if you should call him, finally deciding against it because you know he won't pick up if he's patrolling, that he never takes his phone with him.

Looking outside only makes you more anxious, the sky is too dark and the lights do little to no help in illuminating the streets. Your hand stretches towards the bed and you grab his jacket —the one he complains you keep stealing but always happens to 'forget' in your house— and put it on while you make your way to the fire escape.

The sight isn't much better once you're out, if you look down you can see that the street is almost empty, only a few people wandering about.

It feels like another hour passes with you waiting for him and your fear of what could have happened gets bigger and bigger by the minute, until you feel like it will eat you from the inside.

But no sign of Ethan.

You hear the sound first, and despite your eyes getting teary you tell yourself that it could be anything, anyone, else. A few police cars appear from around the corner, followed closely by two ambulances. The loud sirens make your head pound, and the lights are blurry through your tears. It feels like a bad dream, like one of those nightmares where you're falling and wake up before you hit the ground but the impact still follows you, or like those moments when you miss a step and those few seconds of uncertainty create a void deep in you guts that swallows you hole.

Your steps resonate as you make your way back inside and pick up your phone once again and dial his number, hoping that this time he decided to listen to you and carry his phone with him, or that he picks up and tells you he forgot to visit you because he was too tired and went back home, or that at least Chad is there to tell you if he knows anything.

"You need to start locking your windows." His voice sounds different, less laid back than usual, and the brief calmness that it brings to you immediately dissipates once you turn around.

There are three large gashes on his right shoulder and another one on his chest, you can see the skin on his side turning a purplish black from where a part of his suit has been ripped off and the smell of smoke and something acrid reaches your nose the second the wind picks up again. His face isn't much better, he has a busted lip, one of his cheekbones has a deep cut and the other looks even worse than his side, there's blood staining his hair and you're pretty sure his nose is broken.

He limps to the bed and you silently enter the bathroom to get the supplies you need to help him. At this point, you don't ask what happened, you know if you do you won't get more than a 'you don't wanna know'. He keeps telling you that the less you know the safer you are, and even if you don't agree you don't say anything, the way he doesn't say anything and allows you to take care of him when he would rather go home and not keep you awake at three am every time he's hurt.

Ethan is trying to take the suit off when you come back, the fabric peels off of his body like a second skin and leaves behind dirt and blood. With the top half gone you can see the smell from before came from a burned patch of his back.

The routine follows as usual. He sits against the headboard, firm hands on your hips pull you onto his lap and you asses the damage, soft hands grazing him as lightly as the wind does and stopping once in a while to push his hair out of his face. And then, you get to work.

You take care of the bigger wounds first, thankfully he has already started healing so there is no need to stitch him. You check for broken ribs and after making sure they healed completely you move on to his face. He doesn't let you do much, you disinfect the cuts just like you always do and in the meantime, he dries your tears and sneaks a few kisses from you.

Getting up, you take his hand and pull him back to the bathroom, he takes his time cleaning himself while you get rid of the dirty cotton swabs laying around and change the sheets, and then when he gets out you both get into some clean pajamas before you make him sit again so you can put some pain reliever on his back.

He looks pensive, his eyes focused on the calm back and forth of the curtains as his back tenses at the cold wet feeling against his skin.

"You really do need to start locking your windows."

"Oh, but then I wouldn't get any special visits from my favorite superhero."

Your voices are quiet, only heard in the tiny bubble of the space you share as you try to lighten the mood.

"I'm your favorite?" He grins, starting to feel the stress of the night leave him. "You know, you don't have to do this, it'll heal in the morning."

"I know," You step in between his legs and start applying the cream to his side, which is already turning a mix between yellow and green. "But I like to help."

You turn the lights off once you're done and join him in the bed where both of you get ready to sleep. He pulls you to his chest and your eyes focus on the scar already starting to form there, his deep breaths lulling you to sleep as your finger traces small hearts around it.

You're almost asleep when the sensation of cold fingers caressing your waist sends shivers running down your spine, almost feeling like a ghost touch in your tired state. Your heavy eyelids stop you from properly looking at the hand, but you can feel it rising, slowly making its way under your top. Your lips start leaving a few lazy kisses on his jaw as he turns to lie on top of you and gets comfortable between your legs, his body weighing you down and his lips chasing yours, only separating for him to take your shirt off.

His hands grope your chest as he makes his way down, the contrast between the cold wind and the warmth of his mouth wrapping around your nipple sends shivers down your spine as his fingers pinch the other one. You can feel him getting hard against your inner thigh, his hips starting to move while his free hand toys with the elastic of your pants, teasing until your desperate hips lift from the bed to meet his and the sighs leaving you turn into whimpers.

"I've never been more grateful for super healing" You roll your eyes and let out a small giggle as he smiles before crashing his lips against yours, his mouth catching the moan that leaves you when his hand goes past your pants. His fingers tease your folds, caressing through the wet fabric of your underwear while he mouths at your throat, sucking and grazing before the flat of his tongue soothes the sensitive skin. Your knuckles turn white as you grasp the sheets and press yourself harder to him in a poor attempt to gain more friction.

Ethan decides to have mercy on you and quickly removes the rest of your clothes, his own following immediately after. Your hands push on his chest, forcing the two of you to switch places, and his fingers dig into your waist forcing you to grind your core against him.

His big brown eyes are hazed with lust, barely making you out through the dark and only focusing once you hold his face in your hands and offer him a sweet smile, catching the way you seem to shine with the moonlight. You lean down and kiss him hard, teeth clashing until you bite his lip and he welcomes your tongue as it explores his mouth.

Your hand travels down his chest and you can feel him shudder as you stroke him, his hips twitching forward once run your thumb over his tip. He stops your hand from moving, groaning as he sits and pulls you closer, guiding himself to enter you. The burn of the stretch makes you moan against his ear and his arms surround you as he waits for you to get used to him and presses open-mouthed kisses on your throat to distract you.

Slowly, you start grinding your hips against him, and the light vibration of his hums against your skin makes you clench his length. Your arms loop around his neck, the side of your head pressing to the top of his own, your hands caressing his hair while he continues to leave marks on your neck.

It's not long before his grip gets stronger, nails digging into you as he quickens the pace of your hips rolling against his, thrusting upwards and bitting down your shoulder in a poor attempt to quiet the desperate groans leaving his mouth. Your head falls back as a high-pitched gasp leaves your mouth at the feeling of his thumb circling your clit at a fast pace, the knot in your stomach getting tighter by the second.

Ethan looks up at you and the moonlight allows you to see how his dilated warm brow eyes stare timidly at you, always worried and shy, no matter how many times the two of you have been together. He tries not to close his eyes as he becomes a whimpering mess underneath you, pulling you closer to him until he can press his forehead against yours, a loud moan getting lost in the space in between as he finally comes.

You can feel him twitch inside of you, the warmth of his cum mixed with his thumb pressing harder finally pushing you over the edge. He softly rolls your hips as you ride out your orgasms, his ragged breaths mixing with your own as he shuts his eyes, chest heaving as he places the pillows against the headboard and lies down. You stop him from pulling out and lazily lay down on his chest, leaving small kisses wherever you can reach.

His hands travel back and forth through your back, stopping once in a while to comb his fingers through your hair. He leaves soft kisses on the crown of your head, smiling at how you try to muffle your laughs by pressing your face to his chest.

"I love you."

The slight sliver of sunshine creates a small halo around your head as you lift yourself to look at him and your small, tender hands hold his jaw while your fingers roam his face, grazing the places where hours ago cuts and bruises faced you.

You give him a small, tired smile and lean down, planting a kiss on his lips. "I love you too."

The two of you spend the rest of the morning in bed, watching the sun rise as you whisper sweet nothings in each other's ears, and then falling asleep as the rest of the city wakes up.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry x you #spiderman!ethan landry #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream vi #spiderman au #💌#ethan.txt

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markhoffmans-certified-slut · 6 months

Text

Ghostface | Pt.1

Pairing: Ghostface x female!reader

Prompt/summary: Being home alone was supposed to be the highlight of your week, but instead of a relaxing night off from work with the house to yourself, you’re tormented by a mysterious masked figure. Thinking that you were going to find yourself dead, you did what the man said in hopes of ending up alive. Instead you find yourself in a whirlwind of emotions with the man that claims he knows you.

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings/contents: Smut: Fingering and oral, unprotected sex. Strong language.

Notes: Unrealistic, just how I like my smut. Is this boring or have I proofread and changed things too many times that now I hate it?

You can read part 2 here!

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The actress on the television screamed loudly, waking you from your light slumber. With a yawn, you stretched your arms out above your head and barely made the effort to peek open your eyes. The room was completely dark other than the light from the television. The original Halloween movies had been on your ‘to-watch list’ for quite some time now, and you decided to take your first day off in a few weeks to finally sit down, relax, and watch them.

Unfortunately, working so many consecutive hours had made you so exhausted that you fell asleep near the beginning of the movie.

With a sleepy groan, you sat up and looked at the mess that was on the coffee table in front of you. An opened, half-empty can of soda sat beside empty take-out containers of leftover food from the other night. You stood, grabbing the trash and bringing it to the empty garbage can in the kitchen and headed for the sink to wash your hands in cold water, hoping that it may wake you up.

That was how that worked, right?

Your phone started to ring on the kitchen counter; you had left it there earlier in the night, knowing that nothing was going to distract you from the movie series. You assumed that it was simply your mother, calling in to check on the house and yourself. It was only 9 o’clock at night and you knew that she was worried about you. Despite being a fully grown adult yourself, this was the first time that you had ever been alone for so long.

However, it was hard to enjoy your week alone in the house when she was always calling.

By time that you dried your hands and made it to the counter, the call had ended. An unknown number popped up on your screen, along with a few messages from your friend about this guy that she was interested in. You leaned against the counter, clicking her messages and going to reply to her ramblings: “The way his hair smells is heavenly, (y/n)” was the last text you had received.

You chuckled and quickly typed out a response: “Why do you even know that?”

Before you could even turn your phone off, bubbles on her end of the chat thread popped up: “We’re studying together tonight, remember?” (You hadn’t) “I need you! Where have you been??”

You replied quick: “Asleep. Work has been draining me. I say just go for it.” You watched the bubbles in a trance, but before her message came through you were cut out of your thoughts by the sight of your own face when the screen darkened as another call came in. Your eyes darted to the top of the screen, expecting to see your mothers contact photo, but instead you frowned.

“No called ID?” You asked aloud, though you assumed that it would stop in a second; you had been getting a lot of spam calls recently and that was often how they came through to you and then left a voicemail about your crippling debt— that you didn’t have. When the call didn’t stop after a few rings, you decided to answer it, knowing they’d leave you a voicemail anyways; maybe telling them to fuck off would get you off their list for being rude at whatever time it was there. “What?” You spoke plainly, assuming that a computer like voice of some overworked and underpaid person was going to be on the other end of the line.

Instead, you were met with a distorted male voice that you had never heard before.

“Hello, (y/n).” You frowned again, wondering if one of your friends was trying to play a prank on you; it was the most logical thought you could come up with at the moment.

“Who is this?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.” You paused for a moment, wracking your brain for one of your friends that would want to do this at 9 o’clock at night on your only night off in weeks.

“Randy?”

“No.”

“Stu?”

“Nope.”

“Tatum? Sidney?” The sound of them tutting their tongue on the other end cut you off.

“I said you get three guesses.”

“And I was wrong on all of them, I obviously don’t even know you. So are you going to tell me who you are or what?” You asked irritably. You didn’t want to play any of their games tonight.

“I was going to, but now you’ve broken the rules.”

“Alright, well I’m gonna hang up then. Call me back when you decide to lose the voice.” You went to bring your phone away from your ear before the voice spoke again, this time in a softer, smoother tone.

“Hey— wait. Don’t hang up.” You sighed and walked towards the sofa again. “What are you doing all alone tonight?” You were going to answer before you hesitated, even stopping your movement.

How did he know you were alone? It had to be someone you were close to. It couldn’t be your friend— she was with that guy. Nothing would keep her from him. Mustering your bravest tone, you spoke again.

“I’ll tell you when you tell me who the fuck you are.” Again, the stranger tutted their tongue.

“Someone sure doesn’t have any manners.” Your phone buzzed against your face from the messages that your friend was sending you, but you were far too distracted to think about replying right now. “Shouldn’t you be nicer to people that you don’t know?” When you were quiet, the stranger spoke again. “Let’s play a game.”

“What is this— Saw?” You scoffed. “I’m not going to wake up in some death trap am I? I’d like to keep my skull in-tact, not ripped apart by some skull-crusher-doodad-two-hundred-fifty-three.” A chuckle emitted from the stranger— it made your arm break out in goosebumps.

Who was this prick?

“I want you to answer a few simple questions. If you win, you get a prize. If I win, I do.”

“What’s my prize?”

“You’ll find out if you win.” Before you could speak, the stranger cut you off. “Question one: who was Dr. Lawrence locked in the bathroom with in the first Saw movie.” With a sigh, you decided to play along. What was the worst that happened? It was probably just some fifteen year old kid and his friends doing prank calls to whoever answered.

“Adam.”

“Very good.” The stranger praised you. “Who created Pet Cemetery?”

“Stephen King,” you answered as if the person on the other line should have given you something harder. “How many questions is there going to be?”

“Almost there.” He spoke. “When did the original Halloween come out?” You glanced towards the movie case that was sitting on the television stand; how would he know if you cheated?

Instead, you trusted your memory.

“1978…?” Things were quiet for a moment; did you get it wrong? You were about to reach for the case when the stranger spoke up again.

“You sure know your movies.”

“They were easy questions.”

“Bonus round: where am I?” He spoke, ignoring you.

You scoffed.

“Let me think— your house?” Your eyes rolled, but he spoke again— this time in a tone that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly got an intense feeling of pure dread that only the horror of the unknown could duplicate.

“No. Try again.”

“A creepy alleyway?”

“Closer than that.” You swallowed hard and peeked out of the door to your backyard. It was pitch black and the reflection from the television was the only thing you could see. “Warmer.” Your breath audibly hitched in your throat.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Closer than that.” Wordlessly, your mouth dry and cottony, you stood and crept towards the backdoor. You flipped the light on and looked around. “I said that I was closer than that.” You were afraid to turn your back on the window, but the sudden fear that he was right behind you crept up your spine; you eyed your reflection in the window and tried seeing behind you in case he popped out of nowhere.

“What is this? Good luck guessing exactly what I’m doing to try and freak me out?” The person on the other end of the line didn’t respond, but you knew that he was still there. You clenched your jaw and turned, looking around your perfectly quiet house. Your eyes locked onto the pantry that was in the kitchen.

There was no way that he was in here, right? You would have known.

But your nap. You were asleep for the good half of two hours. He could have snuck into your house without you even knowing.

But wouldn’t you be able to hear him clearly if he was in the house let alone in the pantry?

Still, worry itched at the back of your throat as you took a few tentative steps towards the walk-in pantry. You had to know.

Your hands were clammy as you reached for the handle and quickly slammed it open. A breath left you when there was nothing there but a few bags of cereal, chips, and dry foods in there. Your body started to relax before a devious chuckle made your entire being stiffen once again.

“Try again.”

“If you’re in my fucking house I’m going to kill you.” You spoke, knowing that the only thing you really had to defend yourself was all the way upstairs by your bed. A metal baseball bat that you had always dreamed of slamming into someones kneecaps.

But he wouldn’t know you were defenseless, would he?

“How will I give you your prize if you kill me?” The strangers voice was patronizing.

“What if I don’t want what you have to give me?”

“You don’t get to choose.” Things were quiet for a moment before you spoke again.

“Are you in a closet?”

“No.”

“Under a bed?”

“No.” Your eyes landed on the basement door; it was mostly for storage, but it was unfinished and it had always scared you. Ever since you were little you’d hated going down there.

“Are you in the basement?”

“No.”

“You wouldn’t tell me if I guessed right, would you?” Your voice was low, almost breathless now.

“No.”

“I don’t want to play your games anymore.”

“You don’t get that choice either.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You failed that game before; do you really want to again?”

“I’m gonna call the cops.”

“They won’t be here by the time I get to you.”

“What do you want?” You asked, trying not to sound desperate as your voice strained.

“You.” His words were simple and completely unhelpful.

“Me? To what? Be dead? Strung up like a Halloween prop?” The stranger hummed for a moment as if he was thinking.

“Close enough.”

“Why don’t you just come out and kill me already? You know nobody else is home.”

“I know everyone is gone for the week.” Was all he said.

“Do I know you?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s to stop me from going to the cops when I find out exactly who you are— because I will find out.”

“If you do that, I’ll have to kill you— and I don’t want to do that. I always have my eyes on you, (y/n). Always.” The floorboards in the other room by the front door creaked, and you couldn’t help but feel as if that was on purpose. You swallowed the lump in your throat, grasping one hand against the flat wall and creeping towards the hallway. Nobody was in there.

“Would you just come out? Please? I’d like to think that I deserve to see you if you’re going to kill me.”

“Not tonight. If you behave, maybe never.”

“There’s nothing I can do anyways. You know I don’t have anything to hurt you with and you’re clearly ready for anything I could possibly do. Just come out.” Things were silent for a moment, so you spoke again. “Please? I… I guess I’m ready for my prize. I won, right?” You looked around the room when floorboards creaked again, but you were alone. Things were deadly quiet in the house. “Hello?” You had previously heard quiet breathing on the other end of the line: now, there was nothing.

You pulled your phone back from your face and sighed when you saw it light up to the text messages from your friend. Your legs were frozen to the ground as you shoved your phone into your pocket. You faced a doorway, but your back was to another.

Somehow, speaking to the man made everything less scary. At least you would have had a better chance to know when he was getting closer. Now you were left in dead silence, only hearing the wind howling outside.

Terror like you had never felt before made your nipples harden when the floorboards behind you creaked. Your breath was quick to pick up in heaves as you slightly turned your head to the side. You knew that he was behind you now, but you couldn’t move. Your hands shook as you forced your eyes shut, squeezing them tightly, waiting for something— anything— to happen.

But nothing did. The suspense was eating away at your skin.

With one quick, bold movement, you turned and moved to the side to press your back against the wall by the staircase. You were hoping that there would be nothing there like before, but instead you were faced with a tall, masked figure in a Halloween costume you had seen in the store earlier this month. He stood only a few feet away from you with a knife glistening in his gloved hand.

“Fuck… shit… fuck…” You mumbled beneath your breath. “This is some kind of a prank, isn’t it?” Your heart jumped when the figure took a slow step towards you. “What are you going to do to me?” You asked, angry with yourself for how fearful your voice sounded. You knew that it was just what the man wanted. “If my prize is getting gutted, I don’t want it.” As you spoke, the knife seemed to disappear up the sleeve of the costume he wore as he took another step closer to you. “I swear to fucking—“

“You shouldn’t swear.” The man cut you off, sounding the exact same in person as he had over the phone. Smooth and sensual, terrifying and mysterious. The man took another step towards you, only stopping when he was so close that you could hear his breathing behind the mask. “Don’t you want your prize?” Your hands were quickly grabbed by his hand, and when you struggled, his impossible grasp only got tighter as he yanked you close against him. You closed your eyes and turned your head as the mouth of the plastic mask bumped against your cheek. “Why are you so scared, (y/n)? I thought that you weren’t ever afraid.” His voice was low. When you were quiet, the man yanked at you again. “I asked you a question.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked shakily. “If you’re going to kill me then would you just do it?” You finally looked at the man, eyes searching where his were behind the mask but finding nothing.

“I told you— I’m not going to kill you.” You let out a quiet sigh— in relief? Because you had been so afraid you forgot how to breathe? You didn’t know, but your entire body was still stiff. “Go upstairs.” The man said as he took a step back.

Finally, your feet moved. You hoped that the man would leave if you did what he said. He changed his grasp on your wrist and guided you up the stairs. You were surprised that you didn’t feel the sharp point of a knife against your back.

The only prize that you wanted was to wake up safe in your home in front of the television and this man being gone from your life forever.

You wondered how he knew your room so well as he nudged you in the direction of your bedroom. Was it a lucky guess or had he been watching you for longer than you could have ever known?

When you stepped inside, the light was flipped on, the door shut, and shortly afterwards you were shoved onto your bed. Everything looked normal in your room— it was clear that however long he had been in your house, he hadn’t touched a single thing— or he’d done everything right to keep things looking the same. But why would he care about that if it was just you anyways?

You looked at the man and clenched your jaw.

“I don’t think I want what you have to give me anymore.” The man didn’t speak, instead he pulled his gloves off and let them fall onto the end of the bed. You moved back on your bed until your back pressed against the headboard when he pressed a knee onto the end of your bed. The man pretended as if he hadn’t heard you— or maybe he simply didn’t care at all that you had spoke— and reached forward with two pairs of handcuffs in his grasp.

It was cold as he clamped it around your wrists and then to the bars on the headboard. You looked almost pleadingly at the man as he leaned back.

“I won’t say anything if you just leave. I promise.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He spoke, pulling a thick piece of black cloth from inside of the robe he wore. He leaned back in as you gave a shaky breath and blocked your eyes, tying the soft fabric in a tight knot behind your head.

You didn’t think that this could get worse, but being deprived of your vision was the cherry on top.

Cold metal pressed gently to your collarbone, sliding slowly across your skin and making you shiver. You knew exactly what it was and gulped as the knife lowered your shirt to expose your cleavage— or what was there with you not wearing a bra to hold your breasts up. Within a quick instant, the knife pulled away and your shirt was ripped in the middle. It was shoved to the side, exposing your bare breasts; the fan overhead was quick to harden your nipples which earned a devious chuckle from the man who easily lifted your hips and slid your pajama pants and underwear off.

You squirmed against the man who was quick to press the knife to your throat.

“Watch it or I’ll tie your legs down, too.” His hands grasped at your hips— shockingly warm and strong enough to leave a bruise as he lifted you up and rested the back of your knees over him. You squeezed your eyes shut so tight that it hurt, expecting the man to slam his dick inside of you. Instead, you gave a shock gasp when a warm tongue slid along your entrance. The mans tongue moved to press to your clit as two of his fingers pressed to your entrance. “You seem like you might be enjoying this.” He spoke as he was easily able to shove a finger inside of you. “Maybe you’re just as slutty as I imagined you were— getting turned on by a stranger fucking you.”

You had to admit, it was hard to keep quiet. Despite your fear, the mans finger was pressing just right inside if you and it had been a long time since someone had given you head— especially the amazing way that he was as his tongue swirled around your clit. You panted quietly and squirmed, unable to stop yourself as you gave out a low whimper.

A second finger pushed inside of you, teasing your insides with slow rubs as he sucked on your clit. You gave another soft moan, your toes curling as the man started to pump his fingers inside of you. You bit down on your lip, trying not to be too loud and express the pleasure that he was unfortunately making you feel— but it wasn’t working. It would have been impossible for the man not to notice your excitement as you squirmed against him— this time not being told to hold still like before.

Gently, unnoticeably to you, the man grinded himself against your bed.

This was something that he had wanted— craved— for so long.

Every little whimper, whine and moan that left you made his cock twitch as he fingered you, hitting spots that made you want to scream out in euphoria. You’d never been able to keep very quiet in bed, but this time you were given more reasons not to; most men you had sex with were mediocre, but even this was making you nearly unravel.

“Ooh— fuck,” you moaned out, broken with pleasure. Right afterwards, everything stopped. The man moved his fingers from inside of you, his mouth left you, and the bed shifted. The tickle of the costume that he wore tickled you as he leaned over you and pressed two wet fingers to your bottom lip.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and let him shove his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers, unable to see the quick lick of his lips as he watched you and reached to grope at your breast.

Nothing was said as the man pulled his fingers out of your mouth and moved. You heard the sound of a zipper as the bed creaked. You couldn’t help the twitching ache inside of you— certainly not when the strangers warm cockhead slid teasingly against your clit. You gave a shiver and a soft whimper, shifting on the bed as the head of his cock pushed inside of you.

Once he was slightly inside, he grasped at your thighs tight and lifted them around his waist, moving closer to you as he started to push himself inside of you. The stranger didn’t start slow— instead he was working inside of you as if he had been fucking you all night long. He teased you with rough thrusts, shoving himself all of the way inside of you before pulling back out and fucking your entrance with the tip of his cock.

By now you weren’t trying to contain the moans that were spilling out of your mouth. Occasionally the stranger would give soft grunts that you could barely hear against your own desperate sounding moans.

Your nipples tingled as he shoved all of himself inside of you again. This time, he stayed close, choosing not to tease you like before. Instead, he let you give into the pleasure that you were feeling— and clearly returning. The man grunted and breathed heavily as you clenched around him. His constant thrusts edged you towards an orgasm— one that nearly had you screaming as you came around his cock.

The man reached down, his fingers rubbing your clit— quickly— something that made you squirt around his cock and buck your hips against the man as overstimulation hit you. He didn’t stop this time either, grasping your hip tight with his free hand and continuing to thrust inside of you fast and hard. You moaned out desperately as his thrusts slowly became less methodical and started to become sloppy, but you gave a final loud scream when he thrusted inside of you one more time in a way that made your stomach churn.

He gave three more gentle, slow thrusts inside of you before he left you.

The man set your shaky legs down on the bed and moved to stand up. Nobody had ever cum inside of you before, and yet you knew exactly what the sensation felt like right now. The sound of a zipper hit your ears again, and soon after your hands were released from the handcuffs. Before he moved back, he leaned close— his face bare as his breath hit your cheek.

“Don’t move.” You nodded and waited, listening to his soft footsteps receding from the bed. The room suddenly went quiet.

You took a moment to catch your breath, hesitating for a few minutes before reaching up to pull the blindfold off of your eyes and down your neck. The room was empty, dead silent as if you had imagined everything. The only thing that let you know it was real was the wet spot beneath you on the bed and the ache deep inside of you.

Your window was left open, blowing in warm summer air and making the light curtains flow in the breeze as you shakily stood. Looking out of the window, you hoped to catch one final glimpse of the man.

But there was nothing. Only the fabric swaying slightly in the wind.

You closed the window, locking it and double checking after you shut your curtains, before you moved and sat on the end of your bed, still naked with a ripped shirt barely covering you. With a sigh, you pushed your hair back and looked around the empty room again. With one final, airy sigh, you spoke aloud to yourself.

“What the fuck.”

#scream 1996 #scream #scream x reader #scream x female reader #scream fluff #scream smut #scream franchise #scream billy loomis #scream stu macher #surprise character

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defectivehero · 15 days

Note

Hi recently found your blog it’s so good! But was wondering if you could one where the hero lost there glasses in a fight maybe or just at home and the villain sees them idk take your pick possibly m x m? Ty even if not have a good day!

your wish is my command! (not really, but this is a great idea and you asked very nicely!) here you go, hope you have a great day <3

The hero has grown accustomed to working late night hours at the agency. He's grown used to being the last person in the office, to shutting the lights off and locking the door behind him once he leaves. The hero always feels guilty leaving right at his scheduled time, especially when his job can determine if a person lives as a bystander to a horrible event or dies as a victim. He begins to stay later and later into the night, and it becomes increasingly hard for him to tear himself away from the agency and his hero mask.

This overtime habit is how the hero finds himself hunched over his desk with rather painful crooked posture as he compulsively checks his computer for messages. His agency is one of the first to adopt a sophisticated messaging system that converts audio from emergency calls to text, which are sent as alerts straight to their inbox. The idea sounded morbid at first—the hero didn't want to equate life-saving to checking his email. But the system grew on him. It's convenient and easy to use, drastically improving the agency’s response time.

He squints at the screen in front of him, rubbing his eyes roughly when his vision begins to blur. He's tired.

Perhaps the hero’s exhaustion is the reason why he fails to notice a figure standing in the corner of the room, watching him. “Your eyesight is terrible.” The hero hears, stiffening in his seat and turning around to find his enemy, the villain, lurking in the shadows. It takes him a few moments to process the statement.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the hero then huffs, blinking a few times as he realizes his eyes feel incredibly dry. His close-up vision is passable, so he's still able to do his job. His distance vision, on the other hand...

The hero has worn glasses since fourth grade. He experimented with contacts but eventually went back to wearing glasses. He's spent an ungodly amount of time in his life wiping his glasses clean with a cloth or pushing his frames further up his nose.

“I’m serious,” the villain sighs. “How can you even see out of these?” At that, the villain steps forward and holds out his hand, revealing a pair of glasses. The hero immediately recognizes the telltale blue gleam that distinguishes his glasses, and reaches out to his enemy. He almost expects the villain not to hand them over, so when the glasses hit the hero's palm, he raises his eyebrows.

"Thank you," the hero feels the need to say, when the silence stretches on to a painful tension. When he puts on his glasses, the blurriness around his vision clears and he can see the words displayed on his screen in sharp, clean strokes. The hero then stares at the villain, several questions on the tip of his tongue. How did the villain remember the hero had lost his glasses? Did he go back to retrieve them? And if so... why?

"It took me a few days to realize why you hadn't shown your face since our fight," the villain answers, as if reading his mind. The hero has to wonder how he grew so predictable. "After that, it didn't take long for me to remember that blow I dealt you—rather powerful, if I do say so myself—and the ensuing clatter of your glasses falling to the ground. So... I went back to the rooftop and grabbed them."

That answers the hero's first two questions. He is still left with the most important query of all: why?

The villain seems to telepathically understand this question too. He takes a slow breath in and ambles around the office in a carefree manner that makes it seem as if he owns the space.

"A win is more enjoyable if it's a complete victory," the villain drawls, tapping his fingers along a nearby desk. The hero has to wonder if his enemy has his power activated—if charred fingerprints will be left as remnants (as tangible evidence) of their encounter. "That means no cheap advantages or hinderances."

Ah. The villain wanted a fair fight—one unimpeded by the hero's poor vision. He supposes he can understand that. The villain is honorable above all else. The hero knows this about his enemy, has grown to accept it. Perhaps he should've intuited that motivation before bothering to ask.

The villain is still lingering, as if waiting for something. The hero's patience only lasts a few minutes. “Well, was there another reason for your visit, or…?” The hero asks, looking at him with sharpened vision. His glasses now provide him with a glimpse of the nuance written in the villain's form—the minuscule pull to his lips, the faded scars tangled around his hands. The hero is suddenly thankful to have his glasses again—but for entirely different reasons than before.

“That was it,” the villain says, his gaze turning scrutinizing. "Why are you in such a rush? Got a hot date?" The latter statement is spoken with a surprising amount of venom.

The hero raises his eyebrows. "A date?" He hums casually, his heart racing in his chest. He didn't expect the conversation to take such a sharp turn into such a convoluted and confusing subject. "At this hour? Of course not."

Something settles in the villain's expression. "Right," he says, something close to relief coloring his tone. "Then, I'll be seeing you." He remarks, turning on his heel and walking out the door. The hero watches him leave, a multitude of different emotions battling in his chest.

tag list: @lateuplight @wit-is-wisdom @greengableswriting @whump-me-all-night-long @noawhite @rekhyt-of-arcadia @the-blind-one-speaks @sufferfictionalcharacters @basically-psyduck @alexkolax @subval01 @emerald-blade @felicia609 @surplus-of-sarcasm @ilickedanenvelopeandilikedit @a-chaotic-gremlin @unknownogre @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @whatwhumpcomments @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @agayprince @starsick1979 @a-lonely-little-ghost @agayprince @plum-tello

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#defectivehero #hero x villain #heroes and villains #superheroes and supervillains #writing #writeblr #spilled ink #writers on tumblr #short fic #snippet #creative writing

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upon-a-starry-night · 6 months

Note

Hello! Could you please do a highschool! Yelena x reader AU where it’s just fluff and maybe reader is trying to study but Yelena keeps distracting her with kisses and stuff? Or maybe their prom night with Yelena being in awe of reader in her dress? Sorry for so many ideas :/

Hey Anon! I hope I made this as fluffy as you were hoping for! I absolutely loved this idea and had to write it immediately when I got it so Thank you! (I went with the first one but I might do the second one later!!) Enjoy<3 ~ Starry

Distractions~

Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Main Masterlist Yelena Belova Masterlist

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You're trying to study but your girlfriend is making it very difficult.

------

You’d been studying in the school library for the past hour, tucked away into a quiet back corner where you knew no one would bother you. It was your usual spot, you enjoyed the dark atmosphere and the fact that the school librarian rarely ever came back here.

You squint your eyes at the screen that was starting to look a little blurry after staring at it for too long. You briefly considered stopping, sitting back in your chair, and stretching your arms above your head, but then you noticed your teacher posted some extra credit work, and well- you were already here it couldn’t hurt to work a little more.

You began to dive into the assignment, so focused on your work that you didn’t notice the body that appeared in front of your table.

It wasn’t until you heard a quiet huff that you were startled from your task.

You looked up to see your girlfriend pouting at you, two iced coffees in her hands. You immediately beamed at her, admiring the casual way her hair fell onto her shoulders today, it was always a treat when Yelena wore her hair down, however, you did enjoy it when she’d sit down in front of you and shyly ask you to braid it for her.

“I was beginning to think you would not notice me” She set your coffee down on the table next to your computer and walked around to stand beside you and see what you were working on.

“Sorry Lena, guess I was really in the zone”

Yelena squinted her eyes in distaste at your screen, pursing her lips and hovering over your shoulder in a way that made her strawberry and vanilla scent flood your senses. You loved the way she smelled, the way she pouted unconsciously sometimes, the way she looked at you like you were the most important person in her world.

“You study too much, '' she mumbled before taking a sip of her coffee. You took a sip of your own and smiled at the taste, you didn’t know why but coffee always tastes better when Yelena got it for you.

“I’m almost done, I promise” You tilted your head to look up at her, at the curve of her jaw, at the way the blue light lit up her face in the darkness of the library. For a second you’re thrown back to when you’d met.

You were leaving a party after getting harassed by a guy, you walked out of the house into the cool night air on the verge of tears only to notice your car was blocked in. You crossed your arms in frustration, contemplating calling an Uber or just walking when Yelena approached you. You might have been imagining things but you could swear she seemed almost bashful. She offered you a ride home and you remembered how beautiful you thought she looked, bathed in the moonlight with a dust of a blush on her cheeks. You accepted her offer and when you got to your place and neither of you were quite ready to say goodbye you invited her in to chat over some tea.

Yelena left your apartment with your number scribbled on her hand and a kiss goodbye on her cheek.

You repeated the action on her now, leaning up only slightly to plant a light kiss on her cheek. Her head immediately snapped in your direction, lips quirking up into a smile when you let out a small laugh at her reaction.

When you noticed your computer was going into sleep mode you clicked the mouse pad quickly and turned back to Yelena, lifting your hands to rest on her face.

“I’ve got three more questions okay?” She leaned into your touch and nodded slightly, frowning when you moved your hands to work on your assignment.

A few minutes later your girlfriend sets down her coffee and wraps her arms around your shoulders, occasionally rubbing her thumbs on your collar bone. It's distracting, to say the least, and you’re sure she knows exactly what she’s doing.

Eventually, when she realizes you’re not budging she switches tactics and begins peppering kisses along your neck and cheeks, it’s safe to say whatever your train of thought was successfully going out of the window. You tried to be frustrated but you found it more endearing than anything

“Lena” you warned her, turning at the waist to look at her. She shrugged behind you, failing to hide her satisfied smirk.

“What? I am not doing anything” You rolled your eyes at her, unable to wipe the smile off of your face.

“The more you distract me the longer this will take”

“Distract you? Who is trying to distract you? I am just kissing my girlfriend” You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head lightly at her bad attempt at lying.

You tried to go back to working on the next question when Yelena’s whining stopped you

“Dorogoy, my feet hurt let me join you”

Despite there being a perfectly good seat across from you, you stood up and let Yelena sneak in behind you, settling you back onto her lap when she was comfortable.

You realize how much of a mistake you’ve made when you feel her hands drawing light patterns onto your waist under your shirt. Her lips find your shoulder a number of times and you’re sure you’re making a lot of grammatical errors you will have to fix later.

You stop typing when she brushes your hair to the side and kisses the back of your neck, however, as soon as you stop typing she removes her lips. You let out a noise of protest and you can almost feel the smirk you know she’s sporting.

“Malysh, you’re never going to be done if you don’t type” You roll your eyes because obviously you know that but it’s hard to focus when she’s touching you in so many spots and leaving kisses all over your upper body. “Maybe you should just stop”

You shake your head lightly, you’re not going to give her what she wants by quitting. If you have to suffer through her ministrations just to not give her that satisfaction it’s a battle you’re willing to face.

You manage to finish your train of thought and work on the final question when Yelena’s knee starts bouncing lightly in boredom. You know she’s running out of ways to distract you and is now having to wait for you to finish. She’s switching tactics constantly now, drawing patterns on your thighs, massaging your shoulders, playing with your hair. In all honesty, it feels incredible and you love it when she puts her hands on you, but you’re so close to being done, and doing the work now meant more time with Yelena at home.

Finally, Yelena rests her head on your shoulder and just stares uninterestedly at your screen. You’re just finishing up when she whispers in your ear “I have a surprise for you but it might be going bad with how long you’re taking” There’s humor in her voice but also a hint of worry and you immediately jump out of your seat and shut your computer. She looks surprised at your outburst, her lips pursed and hands still in the pose of holding your waist.

“Why didn't you say that in the first place!?” You hastily begin packing up your things into your bag, turning to hold your hand out for her to take once you’re done. She playfully glares at you before slipping her fingers into yours and tugging you out of the dark corner.

You giggle behind her as you let her lead you out of the library, excited for whatever surprise she had planned for you, hoping whatever it was involved more kisses and an extra clingy girlfriend.

I love writing fluff <3 As always Please comment what you thought!~Starry

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cloudyyoimiya · 1 year

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I just found your blog and I love your work!

How about a GN!reader like Kokomi from Genshin? Someone's who's very passionate, but also tends to get overworked or Burnt out easily <3

this has me giggling and kicking my feet because i’m similar to kokomi in some ways. i remember that i pulled for her on her first banner when everyone hated her. anyways, since you didn’t specify who to write i’m gonna do dazai and atsushi! i hope that’s okay! thank you for requesting! <3

With a S/o Like Kokomi From Genshin; Atsushi Nakajima and Osamu Dazai

Format: Headcanons and scenario

Possible warnings: none!

Atsushi Nakajima

First off, he’d be the sweetest out of the two.

What originally drew him into you was your kindhearted nature and how you were so devoted to helping people. He really admired how you managed to be so passionate about such a dark job.

One time he saw you talking with another detective while investigating a crime. The case was fairly simple, but you were still so passionate about helping the people affected by it.

He didn’t know that someone could be so tenderhearted.

When he first saw the side of you that overworked yourself, he’d be quite surprised. He never thought that you were the type of person that would stay up late at night, strategizing for your next mission. In a way, he almost found it admirable as well. Though, he would never tell you because sometimes it gets unhealthy.

Atsushi cares for you so much, so when he sees you over working yourself he’d immediately be worried. He would usher you to take a break, even if it’s for five minutes.

If you ever needed to take a break from society and go somewhere secluded, Atsushi would fully support you. If you didn’t have a specific spot to go to in mind, he’d give you a few recommendations after asking you if he could join you as well.

If you did let him join you, get ready for some praise and cuddles. He wants you to know that you’re loved, and that you do so much for those around you.

If you happen to like books, then he’d let you read to him. He’d most likely fall asleep, but he’d be happy that you’re sharing one of your passions with him.

He’s so sweet!

Scenario…

You put your hands in your hair as you stared at the computer screen. You then shifted your gaze to its keyboard, then your lap. A loud sigh escaped your lips as you slapped the sides of your head. You had been doing work for hours by now, and you were starting to get burnt out. Even the thought of bringing your hands down to your keyboard again made you want to clock out for the day.

Atsushi looked over at your figure with a slight frown. Recently you getting burnt out like this was becoming more common, and he hated it. He hated it with his whole being. Therefore, he was determined to help take your mind off of things for a while.

He stood up from his desk and tapped your shoulder. You immediately whipped your head around to meet his gaze. You then gave the weretiger a questionable expression.

“Atsushi? You should get back to work!” You exclaimed.

The weretiger gave you a small smile. “You’re getting burnt out again, (Name). C’mon! Let’s go out for a while!” He paused for a moment. “Only if you want too though! I won’t pressure you into anything!”

You blinked at him before letting out a short chuckle. “Atsushi! You’re too sweet.”

You stood up from your seat and stretched out your limbs for a moment. Who knew sitting for so long could make you cramp up?

Atsushi smiled as you got up from your seat. “Where should we go today?”

“Hmm… Let’s go to the park. It’s nice and relaxing. Plus, aren’t the sakura petals in bloom now? I’d love to see them,” you rambled. “I just love how pretty they are.”

“You seem quite passionate about them,” Atsushi butted in.

You giggled as you grabbed his arm. “C’mon, let’s go!”

You practically dragged Atsushi out of the office. He, of course, didn’t object. Once you exited the office, you looked around for a little bit. The streets were busy, as per usual. You wouldn’t have it any other way though. It just meant that people had something to do with their lives.

Eventually the two of you reached the park after a short walk. The sakura petals were falling gracefully as the wind started to pick up. It was a beautiful sight.

You sat down on a bench with a sigh. “Thank you this.”

Atsushi sat down next to you and glanced at your face. “For what?”

“For making sure I’m okay.” You smiled as you said this.

The weretiger only chuckled. “It was the least I could do… I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Osamu Dazai

Simply put, the two of you would make up complex plans for the agency.

That is what originally made in interested in you in the first place. The two of you were lounging around in the office, coming up with a plan for an upcoming fight against the Port Mafia. It was very complex, and it all depended on one variable, but the two of you made it work miraculously.

Dazai admired how you put his trust in him so easily. He also admired how you could keep some of the most grim situations lighthearted.

If he ever saw you be passionate about something, he’d only fuel the fire. He’d do everything in his power to make sure that passion stays with you.

Sometimes he’d ask you questions about what you’re passionate about, only to hear your cute rambles. He finds it very endearing.

He knew about your unhealthy habit of overworking yourself from the start. He wouldn’t try to persuade you to not do it, no, but he’d make sure that you’re taking care of yourself. Dazai knows what it’s like to be unable to stop yourself when it comes to something like this.

If he ever catches you asleep at your desk or something of the like, he’d take off his coat and drape it over your shoulders. He’s a gentleman after all!

If you ever needed to take a break from everything and retreat somewhere for the day, he’d encourage you to do so. Dazai would recommend some book stores, a bar, and or just staying at your house. He wants you to be comfortable.

Scenario…

You slowly woke up at your desk. Some of your spit was on the cold wood alongside some on your cheek, so you lazily brought your hand up to your face and wiped it away. As you were doing so though, you felt a slight weight on your back. It wasn’t heavy, no, far from it. It kept you warm and cozy.

Once you let out a yawn, you grabbed the thing that was on your back. It felt like fabric, so you pulled it over into your line of vision. Lo and behold, it was Dazais jacket.

You got up from your chair, your bones cracking at the sudden movement. You then looked around for the tall brunette, wanting to give him back his jacket. Recently it was getting chillier outside, so you didn’t want him to be cold. You eventually found him slacking off on the offices couch, listening to music.

You tapped him on the shoulder, then offered up his jacket. “Here. I don’t need it anymore.”

Dazai smirked at you as he took off his headphones. “Keep it for a while. You were absolutely adorable with it on!”

“Oh! Are you sure?”

“Of course I am!”

You hesitated for a moment. You then sighed then put on his coat properly. After that you sat down right next to him and pulled out a book. He looked at you questionably, but then decided not to pry.

“What’s that book about?” He asked suddenly.

You looked up from the seemingly endless pages with a small smile. “It’s called Gone Girl. Basically this wife frames her husband for her murder. The ending gets very twisted though. It has to be one of my favorite books of all time…”

Dazai smiled at your rambling. He loved how passionate you can get over something like this.

“If you like the book so much, then I’ll just have to read it for myself,” he said sweetly. He then grabbed the book from your grasp with a smirk. “I think I might do that right now!”

You let out a shocked gasp. “How dare you!”

You reached up for the book, but he had the height advantage. After a few minutes you stopped fighting for the book and sighed in defeat. All throughout the whole ordeal, Dazai was chuckling. He enjoyed teasing you like this.

“Fine! You can read it,” you said as you pinched the sides of his torso.

Dazai let out a fake groan of pain. “Ow! You’re so mean to me!”

“That’s what you get for stealing my book.”

You brought your hand to your face, letting out a short yawn. Dazai seemed to notice as he looked over at you. He placed the book onto the table in front of you two, then guided your shoulders to his lap.

“You’ve been overworking yourself recently. Go on, take a nap,” he spoke gently.

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totowlff · 1 year

Text

beware the trap

➝ request: could you right a short fic of toto telling the reader everything will be okay and it will all work out, don’t beat yourself down?

➝ word count: 3,6k

➝ warnings: mental breakdown

➝ author’s notes: i haven't written a one-shot for a long time and i was particularly inspired this week. the poem toto is referring to is called beware the trap by kelly mistry. I read it this week and it touched me deeply. finally, remember: do not fall into the trap.

As you stretched after hours of being slouched in front of the computer, your eyes found the clock in the corner of the screen. You ran a hand over your face and rubbed your eyes a bit, because you were sure you weren’t reading it correctly. It was not possible that it was already this late. A second look was enough for you to make sure you weren’t seeing things.

It was past midnight.

You pressed your palms into your eyes and took a deep breath. You were supposed to have left hours ago, when the rest of your team left. But, there you were, sitting at your workstation in your cubicle in the wind tunnel building, which was part of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula 1 Team complex. You’d stayed late, but hadn’t meant to stay quite this late. No reason to leave now, though — it didn’t make any sense, with all of the work you had to do.

“You made us throw a whole year in the bin”, you remembered Mike, your boss, telling you that morning. You leaned back in your office chair as his voice echoed in your head. On the monitor in front of you, the dorsal view of a 3D car model made something feel tight in your chest.

When the new set of technical regulations hit your desk, you, as the chief aerodynamicist, made a point of studying them closely, along with Jordan and Giorgio, two of the best aerodynamicists on your team. Soon, you began to draft concepts, and eventually, your team narrowed it down to two radically different interpretations of the regulations. From the readings you were doing, it seemed that both of them had great potential.

After running models through the CFD software and running numerous simulations, everything pointed to the idea that you had — the concept of a low, flat sidepod, nicknamed the ‘zeropod’ — being the most efficient from an aerodynamic point of view. It was something definitely different than expected by John Owen, the chief designer, who believed that the car would follow a similar concept to that envisioned by the FIA.

However, the idea you ended up pushing was a bold choice. Your idea of placing the air intakes vertically and more or less glued to the cockpit, with the upper area of the floor designed to direct airflow to the rear wing. In all of the modeling, simulations, and wind tunnel testing, it generated the ideal amount of downforce.

The presentation of the concept was a success. You remembered James Allison smiling as you explained the design, along with all of the calculations and results of the testing that you and your team had done. Aerodynamically, it was your best work, the fruit of many long hours in front of the computer, many cups of coffee, and even the occasional cans of energy drinks that you usually preferred to avoid.

On the day of the W13 presentation, you were sure that you’d delivered your master work, that you would finally be able to make your mark on the team’s history.

But then, reality came crashing down.

During the shakedown, it was clear that something was wrong. The car was unstable, bouncing wildly and unpredictably. It was something that hadn’t shown up in wind tunnel testing and simulations.

You had it wrong. Your concept required the car to be run as low to the ground as possible, which caused the floor to scrape and bounce over every miniscule bump on the track, because the suspension also had to be incredibly stiff. The issue could be alleviated by raising the ride height, but that caused the car to run with far too much drag, eliminating its straight-line speed.

Your masterpiece had turned into a monster.

Every race weekend was torture. The questions, doubts, and stares from your team made you feel like you were in a court of law, going through the longest trial of your life. It was your decision that put the team on the back foot. As much as Toto liked to tell the press that everyone in Brackley and Brixworth was working “flat-out” to unlock the car’s performance, you could tell that your coworkers were losing motivation. Lewis was suffering, George was suffering.

It was your fault. Only you could fix it.

You started working on the W14 by yourself, almost in complete secrecy. You would come home from work and sit in your office at home, doing calculations and making models for hours. You wanted to fix things, you wanted to offer the team a better car. You wanted to make your idea work.

When you pitched the project to Mike Elliott, he was skeptical. He didn't believe the concept was a good one, it hadn't worked up to that point in the season. You argued, you presented the differences, you showed the points you had reworked, especially on the floor. After reviewing the data and the simulations your had run with Frederik, he seemed more interested.

The presentation of the W14, with the sidepod design you had in mind, was an indication that the technical and sporting team still trusted you to create a car capable of winning championships. You had done it before, and you were sure that this time you had hit the nail on the head with the floor design.

And then, it all came crashing down again.

You took another deep breath and looked at your clock again, clenching your jaw. You hadn't eaten anything since lunch. In your mind, every minute of work counted, especially after what Mike told you that morning. At the same time, your body was begging for something, your stomach rumbling loudly.

You stood up from your chair, stretched your back and shoulders a bit, grabbed your phone and your work badge, and walked out of the aerodynamics offices, and out of the wind tunnel building. You were hoping the cool night air would refresh you, but as you walked slowly to the main building, you felt completely absent from your body. Your mind was too distracted, a swirling maelstrom of numbers from the simulation results of the new design. Your team had affectionately nicknamed the concept ‘WNewey’, as it took cues from the concept used by Red Bull’s car the year before.

Entering the main building, you nodded as you were greeted by the receptionist, and made your way towards the cafeteria, which was strangely empty. You approached the counter, where an employee was sitting, fiddling with her cell phone.

— Hi — you murmured. She stood up and slipped her phone into the pocket of her apron.

— Good evening. What can I get for you?

You looked around, trying to take in what was on offer to eat. Despite how hungry you were, everything just looked like blobs of colors to your tired eyes, and your stomach was churning too much to eat anything.

— Do you have any Monster, or any other energy drinks? — you asked quietly.

— We do. What flavor do you want?

— Dealer’s choice.

The woman went to the refrigerator on the back counter, took out a black can, and placed it on the counter. After scanning your badge and the payment terminal beeping to confirm your payment, you went to one of the tables and sat down. After opening the can and taking a sip of the sugary, syrupy drink, your gaze was lost on the table in front of you.

After a few minutes, you heard someone else walk into the canteen area, but didn’t look up until you heard a familiar voice.

— Good evening, Poppy. Could you make me an espresso, please?

You lifted your head and saw Toto Wolff, the team principal and CEO of the company, standing in front of the counter. He was holding his cell phone, in its fluro yellow case, in one hand, and his badge in another. His posture indicated that he had to be tired, too. His shoulders looked tense under the white dress shirt he was wearing. His sleeves were pushed up to the elbows, as they usually were.

— Of course, Mr. Wolff. You’re here late. Did you want that with milk?

— No, just sugar, thank you. And you know how it is, remote meetings with Crowdstrike executives in Texas — Toto replied. He turned his head slightly to the side, which allowed you to see his face. He was scratching his forehead with one hand, and scrolling through something on his phone with the other. He seemed tired. Poppy had just set his coffee cup down on the counter as he sighed deeply.

“Another year in the bin”, you thought, as you heard the sound of his badge scanning on the payment terminal. Then, you watched as he took his coffee and turned toward you with a small smile on his lips.

— Ah, good evening, Y/N — he said, his smile fading as he looked more closely at your face — Is everything okay?

You blinked, as you snapped out of your cycle of mental self-flagellation.

— Yeah, everything is… Fine.

He approached you, seeming to study your expression. His appraising look made you feel somewhat exposed, as if Toto was able to know exactly what you were thinking and feeling at that moment.

— What are you doing here at this hour?

You stayed silent for a few seconds.

— Working. Well, I came to get something to drink, but I'll be heading back to my office in a bit.

— Wait, weren’t you here this — he hesitated, glancing at the black and teal watch on his wrist — I suppose, yesterday morning?

— Yes.

— What are you still doing here? Aren’t you normally finished at five?

You sighed, pursing your lips.

— I'm working on the car.

— You can do that during the day. You don’t have to stay past midnight, you know.

You looked down at the floor.

— Yes, I do.

— Why?

— Because I — you started to say, but your voice cracked. You took a deep breath to try and compose yourself before continuing. — I need to save our year.

Toto put down his coffee cup and phone next to your drink can and pulled up a chair, sitting next to you. You felt a bit sheepish as you glanced up at him, noticing the concern in his expression.

— Y/N, you're not going to save our year — he said, in a low voice — Simply because there's nothing that needs saving.

You lifted your head, feeling your throat tighten.

— But the car…

— Of course, we're facing difficulties with the car, but it's not going to be one single individual that will solve all of its problems, especially working such long hours by yourself.

You let silence hang between the two of you. You could feel the misery welling up inside you, anger and anguish filling your chest. You felt like you were a ticking time bomb.

— It's all my fault — you stammered, your voice low, your eyes brimming with tears, and your lower lip trembling. He stared at you intently, seemingly trying to process what you'd just said.

— What?

— It's my fault — you repeated, before burying your face in your hands and starting to sob. The anger you felt at yourself for screwing up was painful. It felt like hot, acidic bile in your throat. All you wanted to do was prove yourself, but you threw away all of your team’s hard work, eight years of constructor’s victories, and seven years of driver’s championships, all because you were too invested in the idea of making your damn sidepod concept work, when every race on every circuit across the world was proof that it didn’t.

You were so deep in your misery that you didn't notice the moment when you were wrapped in a pair of arms, nor when a gentle hand came to the back of your head, pressing it into a broad, firm shoulder. You were surprised when you realized that Toto had pulled you into a hug, but it felt like a lifeline, something you needed. You’d been drowning in the feeling that you’d failed for far too long.

After a few more minutes of Toto letting you cry on his shoulder, in the most literal sense, you managed to pull yourself together enough to lift your face and look at Toto again. There was concern in his dark eyes as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your eyes

— Feeling better? — he asked. His voice was gentle and quiet.

— A little — you replied, swiping the back of your hand across your nose as you sniffled.

— Do you want to talk about it?

— About what?

— Whatever is making you cry in the factory canteen past midnight.

Your throat tightened again, but you resisted the urge to cry. “Breathe”, you told yourself, as you struggled to get air into your lungs. After some time, you managed to find your voice steady enough to start talking.

— Well, for starters, the zeropod concept was my idea. I was the one who invested all of my time and energy into it, and convinced everyone to get behind it. Worse than that, I was the one who insisted that we continue working with this concept in the W14, even though it didn't work out — you said, looking at your hands — In the end, I guess Mike is right. I threw this year into the bin.

— What? Mike said that to you?

You looked up at Toto. His expression changed from concern to what looked like irritation. It was unexpected, especially in reference to someone he worked with so closely.

— Yeah, this morning. We were talking about Bahrain and Saudi Arabia, and he said that the results were disappointing, and that he doesn't understand my insistence on this zeropod concept. I explained that the problem wasn’t the sidepods anymore, but the rear downforce — you hesitated for a moment — He wouldn't listen. He said I threw the team's year in the bin with this and that I should start thinking about doing something different next year.

Silence hung between you again. Toto flexed his jaw, looking thoughtful. It felt a little wrong to sell your boss out to the CEO of the company like that, but your frustration and tiredness was overriding your desire to avoid further conflict with Mike.

— Well, one thing I can tell you definitively is that Mike is wrong, Y/N.

— Toto...

— I understand his frustration, as he is the technical director and everything related to the design of the car comes down on his head. But, our performance this year and last year isn't anyone's fault in particular — he continued, grasping your hands in his — We're a team, Y/N. Everything we do, we do as a team. You came up with the idea of zeropods and presented them well. We couldn’t predict the issues with suspension and ride height, which did not help.

— But if we had…

— It's no use thinking about what could have been, Y/N. Of course, we would like to be further ahead in the development of the car this year, but we made a mistake. It’s okay to make mistakes, and it’s okay to admit you’ve made mistakes. The problem is not learning from it. And clearly you've learned, so much so that you're trying to make it right in the worst way possible.

— The… worst?

— Staying so late, especially when you arrive so early, is not the way to go about this. You think you have more time, but you will just end up burning yourself out, which will cause you to make even more mistakes. No mind, no matter how brilliant, is immune to weariness.

You took a few seconds to absorb what you’d heard, like you couldn’t believe it. Toto Wolff had just called you brilliant.

But why wasn’t it making you feel any better?

— I just wanted to stop feeling like this…

— Like what?

— Guilty — you whispered, ducking your head — I feel so guilty, all the time.

He sighed, bringing his fingers to your chin and gently lifting your face to look back up at him.

— A while ago, I read a very interesting poem. I can’t remember who wrote it or what it was called, but it struck me because it was all about how guilt implies that you have the power to change the course of things when, in fact, you may not actually have the power to do so. This ends up making the emotion of guilt somewhat of a trap. It tricks you into believing that you are always in control, when in reality, you are not.

You blinked, listening to his words and the way he was talking to you. It was strangely soothing.

— What I mean, is that no one has control over the consequences or impacts of their actions. What we can control, though, is our actions and intentions. And you had the best of intentions, Y/N. You thought outside the box, came up with an innovative solution and even gave us a win last year.

— One win out of twenty-two races, after eight winning seasons. It feels like nothing.

— It’s not nothing, Y/N. It’s proof that, working together, we can achieve our goals. It makes me very proud, not only of you, but of the entire team. At the beginning of last season, nobody would have expected us to get a 1-2. We worked as a team and proved everybody wrong.

His words immediately brought tears back to your eyes, and it wasn’t long before you started to cry in earnest again. Toto just pulled you back into hug, your head nestled on his shoulder.

You had always admired him, for his own resilience and mental strength. The way Toto always saw difficulties as a comfort zone made him an inspiration. You wanted to be like him, to become an even better person under adverse conditions, like graphite under pressure becomes a diamond.

Pulling away again, you ran your hand over your face, trying to dry the last of your tears. Then, you noticed that his shirt was wet from where you’d been crying onto it.

— Sorry — you said quietly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

— For what? — he asked, raising an eyebrow. As you pointed to the shoulder of his shirt, Toto smirked — No need to apologize, Y/N. I have a five-year old son, I've dealt with worse than a few tears on my clothes. Far worse.

His comment brought a small smile to your face.

— I can imagine — you murmured.

— Now, I want you to go to your office, get your things, and go home. And I don’t want to see you tomorrow… I mean, later today, at the office. You need to rest.

— Toto — you started, but he cut you off.

— Smashing your head against your keyboard is not the solution to our problems, Y/N. I insist. You will stay at home, off duty. If you think about showing up, you'll be stopped at the gates.

— You know that I can just work from home…

— Don't make me have IT revoke your access, Y/N.

— You wouldn't do that — you said, in a slightly indignant tone.

— Are you going to challenge me on that? — he asked, his voice teasing.

— No, Mr Wolff.

A satisfied smile appeared on Toto's face.

— Good — he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear — Oh, and one more thing. If Mike starts again with this talk about you ‘throwing our year into the bin’, come talk to me, please.

His request made your stomach lurch. You liked Mike. He didn't seem as open to your ideas as James was when he was the team's technical director, but he had his own vision, which you respected. The relationship between you and Mike was always cordial, and he was willing to challenge you on your ideas, but it never had been so acrimonious as it had gotten that morning.

— I don't want to hurt Mike.

— You will not hurt him. He will be hurting himself if he continues with this behavior. He knows we have a zero-blame culture here, and why, and how seriously I take it. Please let me know if this happens again.

You nodded.

After a good-natured comment about his coffee, which, by that point, must have gone cold, you got up from your table and returned to the office, downing what was left of your energy drink on your way back to the wind tunnel building, feeling relieved, and strangely light.

You turned off your computer and left the factory for your flat, which wasn't far away. After taking a shower and changing into your pajamas, you laid down on your bed and became acutely aware of how tired you were. It was as if every part of your body was screaming at you to take a break, and you finally got a chance to do so.

After sleeping a good part of the next day, you took the afternoon to clean up your flat, relax, and cooked yourself a nice meal instead of getting takeaway or heating a frozen dinner. You avoided picking up your phone to even look at it, as Toto had sent you a message on the company Slack telling that he would confiscate it if he saw you online.

You felt much better the day after. You felt rested, and felt better about yourself and your work. You had hope for things to get better, for you to get more confident. You were trying your hardest, and it was being noticed. There was nothing better than that.

So you thought.

When you arrived at your desk, you noticed a cardboard to-go cup sitting in front of your keyboard. The coffee inside was still hot. There was a blue Post-It note stuck to the lid, the handwriting on it familiar to you.

“Beware the trap of believing you always have control - TW”.

You smiled as you stuck the note to the bottom edge of your computer monitor.

You would not fall into that trap again.

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x you #toto wolff fluff #f1 one shot #formula 1 one shot #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 fic #formula one fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #wlffog #oneshotwlff

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Hiiii, Jade <3 How are you? Could you please write a single dad!au for Spencer? Pretty please, with a cherry on top :*

hi! I'm okay thanks so much, and ty for your request! I hope you like it ♥︎ single!dad spencer x fem!bau!reader

Amanda is, as you'd expect, a very small version of her father but without the photographic memory. She is a happy, lovely, caring sweetheart of a child, and everytime you see her, you think you might like to marry her dad.

There's something to be said for the heart of a parent. You look at Amanda and it amplifies every bit of Spencer's goodness, especially now when she's napping in Spencer's lap at his desk in the bullpen, completely at ease. He has one hand behind her back and the other stretched over to his desk.

"You know," Emily whispers, leaning against your desk with two hot cups of coffee, "he told me why he named her Amanda. It might kill you."

You take one of the coffees. "Thank you… Do I wanna know?"

Your crush on Spencer is common knowledge for everybody except him: he's a genius in everything beside social relationships.

"Amanda," Emily says quietly, "I don't remember the Latin word he definitely told us it's derived from, but I do remember what it meant. 'To be loved,' and 'Worthy, of love.'" She raises her eyebrows at you. "He said he wanted there to be no mistake. That she was loved from the beginning, and she always will be."

"Oh no," you say.

"Yeah."

"Are you kidding?" you ask.

Emily laughs as you cover your face with both hands, long sleeves pulled over your fingers. You hide away from the world and Spencer and his tiny pretty daughter and pray you'll be swallowed up by your uncomfortable chair.

"You'll be okay," Emily says. "Drink your coffee. Only six hours 'til we get to go home."

"I don't even really want coffee," you mumble, lips against the rim of your cup.

She pats your shoulder. You return to your work but absolutely can't focus. Ever since you started your job here at the bureau you've had the world's worst, most ridiculous crush on Spencer. There are a myriad of reasons why but the most important is that he talks to you. Everyday, all the time, he talks about things you'd never even heard of before, and he talks about the weather. He knows more about you than most people know and he shows it so subtly.

He links trade routes back to your favourite treats, because this boat got stuck in this place so there's going to be a short supply but he knows where you can get some and he can get them for you the next time he goes. He read this book lately by an author you'd definitely hate, but she talked about a different article Spencer thinks you'd love, so he forwarded it to your email last night. He and Amanda went to Niagara Falls last weekend — here's a mug with a rainbow waterfall on the side because he noticed your old coffee mug has a chip in the lip.

You scratch down a phone number wrong three times in a row and feel your eyes closing of their own accord. He makes it hard to think.

"Hi, Miss Y/N."

You look up from your things to find Amanda waiting still as a post by your chair.

"Hi, beautiful," you say. You look over her shoulder for Spencer and find nothing but files and computers and the click-click-clicking of twenty computers. "Dad's in the bathroom, huh?"

"Mm-hm."

"You want me to drag his chair for you?"

She shakes her head and rushes back to Spencer's chair, pulling it with her back to your desk. She struggles up into the chair and you pull her in, her shiny black shoes rubbing against your knee.

"Sorry," she says.

"No, that's okay, you don't have anything to be sorry for. These are nice shoes, baby, I think your dad's been spoiling you again."

"He says they make me walk faster," she tells you, "'cos they have ergo-domic shapes."

"Oh wow! You look amazing, you always dress so smart." You smile at her gently. "You want some dried fruit? I have mango, pineapple and apricot. Or I have a normal orange with all the juice," you offer.

She nods. You have no clue what she's nodding for so you give her the dried fruits and the orange and smile to yourself when she says a breathy thank you. She can eat all your snacks. You'd offer your moon cake if you weren't worried about her being allowed. Fruit is a safe bet.

She sits happily eating fruit for a while. You try to poke some light conversation out of her, how's school and how's their pet fish Mr. Banana, and is it fun to be at work with dad today?

"Hi."

You bite your own tongue. Amanda doesn't acknowledge her father beyond her head dipping back in wait of his hand. Sure enough, he reaches over the back of the chair and strokes her baby blonde curls, brown towards the ends. You imagine they'll be the same warm brown as his when she's older.

"Hey, Spencer," you say, crossing your hands over your tummy.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

You're lying. He's a profiler. You both know both of those facts.

He squints at you playfully. "You should tell me if something's wrong."

"Dad," Amanda interrupts, "we have to… have to give people space." She offers him the dried fruit bag. "To tell us in their own time."

Despite the clumsy, adorable way that she says it, she has a point. Spencer bites back a smile, properly chastised, and takes the bag.

"What is this?" he asks.

"Sorry," you jump in, "I should've asked you first, I just didn't," —you lower your voice— "really know what to do. I'm not bad with kids. I'm, uh, not good with them, either, maybe."

"You're great with kids," he says. "Having a baby is complicated, but taking care of them once they get to Manda's age is easier. She just needs love and patience and regular feeding. You're one of the most loving people I know, and your patience is appropriate. And, you know." He passes back your bag of dried fruit. "You always have snacks in your desk."

His easy compliments warm your face. You cover your cheeks with your sleeves.

"Dad, you made her happy," Amanda says, pleased.

Spencer laughs and the sound lights you up from the inside out, reaching over the chair to lift Amanda into his arms. He pushes his hand into the small of her back and straightens out the skirt of her red dress. If you'd been paying attention, you'd notice the slight pink tint of a blush working over his ears and cheeks.

"Aw, Mands," he murmurs, "we really have to work on your context clues."

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #dad!spencer reid

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kitashousewife · 2 years

Text

winding down

an: this is purely self indulgent but i hope you all love it

pairings: timeskip!sakusa x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, school stress, pet names, lowercase intentional

the glow of your laptop against your skin makes you realize how long you’ve been here.

hours of school work, getting you what feels like nowhere at all. the cursor blinks once, twice, three times before you close your tabs and shut your laptop.

it’s time you call it a night.

the autumn sun left hours ago, the warm glow on the walls long gone, now replaced by the cool light of the moon.

you stand slowly, stretching as you begin to move around. the house is quiet, except for the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant stream of the shower, telling you sakusa is still awake. your eyes close for a moment, allowing yourself a deep breath in and out. it was a long day, but now you can finally begin to wind down.

shutting off the light in the living room, you shuffle towards the front door, locking it with a firm click. you begin the first steps of your routine, starting the dishwasher which sakusa loaded earlier, and wiping down the counters slowly. each swipe of the cloth brings you a little more peace than the last.

turning off the lights in the kitchen, you make your way through the bedroom door. a sleepy smile reaches your lips as you notice your husband has already set out pajamas for you, right on top of your pillow.

as soon as you walk into your shared bathroom, the shower turns off. normally, you would tell sakusa to take as long as you want! but tonight, you deserve a long shower.

reaching for a clean towel, you grab two, and turn around to hand your husband one. he places a kiss on your forehead, and you giggle at the drops of water that fall from his dark hair.

“kiyoomi,” you groan in fake annoyance.

“what? im just speeding up the process, pretty.”

the steam from the previous shower fills your lungs, and with an exhale you let every bad part of the day go. as you go through your shower, sakusa asks you the regular night time questions.

“did you lock the door?”

“did you start the dishwasher?”

“did you remember to plug in your computer?”

every question is answered with a “yes, baby,” by the time you step out of the shower. the bathroom is empty, but not for long. dressed in pajamas of his own, your husband walks towards the vanity to grab his toothbrush. he steps to the side, allowing you room to begin your skin routine.

“you were doing homework for a while,” he asks, the tone of his voice letting you know his concern.

“i didn’t even realize,” you sigh, reaching for your moisturizer. “i’m glad i stopped when i did though.”

he spits in the sink and places his toothbrush back in the holder. raising an eyebrow, he turns to you.

“how come?”

“i got to catch you right out of the shower.”

sakusa rolls his eyes and exits the bathroom quickly in an attempt to hide his pink cheeks, but it doesn’t work.

putting your own tooth brush away, you turn off the last light of the night and walk towards the bed. after putting on your pajamas, you climb into bed and let out a sigh of relief. you plug in your phone and turn to sakusa. phone in hand, scrolling through his team chat, with a very annoyed look on his face.

“anything good today?” you mumble, eyes half open and body feeling just a little bit heavier.

“no, as usual. i don’t get why we have this stupid chat anyway,” he gripes, locking his phone and placing it on his nightstand. before he can set it down, your eyes shoot open.

“wait, your alarm! tomorrow is wednesday, you have early practice.”

he nods and grabs his phone once more. setting his alarm quickly, he puts his phone down and turns to you. pulling you close, sakusa feels much better.

he doesn’t say it out loud, but his embrace tells you how much he missed you tonight.

“hey,” he breathes, softly to not disturb you. you hum.

“i’m really proud of you, you know.” pulling away slightly, you look up at him, at least what you can see in the dark.

“what makes you say that?”

he turns his head to yawn. “you’ve been working so hard this week.”

“it’s only tuesday,” you giggle, running your fingers through his damp hair, before tucking a curl behind his ear.

“so? im proud of you. you work so hard.”

your heart swells. this week has been so busy, and you’ve felt like you can’t keep up. due dates are piling up, readings are becoming harder to keep track of.

“i love you, kiyoomi.” you kiss him, and like always, his lips fit right into yours.

“i love you too.”

as your eyes close, the steady rhythm of his heart is the perfect song to lull you to sleep. sakusa feels relieved. every few minutes tonight, he would look over at you, seated close to him as he studied different film in preparation for this weekend. every time he checked on you, your brows were furrowed, eyes moving quickly as you scan whatever was on your screen. sometimes he would catch you writing something down, or crossing something off of your list. but, as the game he watched ended, you were still working away. he assumed you would stop as soon as you saw him start the dishes, but you didn’t.

he felt a sense of relief when he heard the beginnings of the dishwasher, telling him that he would see you soon.

as your breathing steadies, sakusa feels himself drifting off. he pulls you a little tighter. he knows he isn’t good with words, but he is always trying to make sure you know how proud he is of you.

#sakusa x reader fluff #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #hq fuff #hq x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oneshot #sakusa oneshot #sakusa imagine #haikyuu fluff

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ymmpily · 1 year

Text

“You won’t betray me too, will you?”

Warnings: Spoilers, mentioning death, major character death, kidnapping, violence, swearing.

Italic means they are speaking in Na’vi.

Word count: 2,584

This work is 35 paragraphs long, if I have spelled anything wrong, used anything in the wrong way please let me know. I did proof read this ten times and had someone else do it about three but you never know. Thank you. | Part one of Betrayal

Miles and me never really got along, but ever since Jake betrayed him he seems to see something in me now. He’s always keeping a close eye on me. I think he thinks I am going to betray him like Jake. Which I won’t, not yet, I have no reason too. I like studying and figuring out how Na’vi people work. One day of course I would love to be one. I envy Jake. While I am sitting here, he is out there enjoying life, being free. Whilst I am in here taking orders from the man that killed my colleague, Grace Augustine.

Grace and I were never really close but we definitely had things in common. We both loved teaching, though I didn't get to do much of it after I left Earth. She had this school here on Pandora. I remember her talking about it with Jake once, I only ever listened and I never engaged. Graces school taught young Na'vi about American education and language.

I never went to Graces school as I thought to fill my mind with other knowledgeable things. She always enjoyed her life while I sat around learning what she already knew. She also wanted to protect the Na'vi people as much as Jake, while I sat around doing nothing to help. Me and her differed in that part. I watched the RDA do so much damage to Pandora's life. I even watched as Neytiri, Jake's new found love, killed Miles Quaritch. I wished he had stayed dead.

The sound of a door slamming is what awoke me from my thoughts. Miles Quaritch, I groaned, rolling my eyes and getting up from the comfort of my chair. I stretched as Quaritch made his way over to my desk, "How is it? You know, being something you hate." I chuckled trying to start up a conversation. If I didn't he would stand over there and stare at me. He was silent from the question I asked, the air in the lab was tense.

If anything Quaritch scared me, the man could kill me for all I cared. Plus, he was now a 9 foot tall savage, as he liked calling it. I sighed and sat back down within the comfort of my chair. I wouldn't let my thoughts consume me whilst Miles was here, he might think that I am trying to think of ways out of this place. So instead I started typing away on my computer logging in the rest of the data I was supposed to log in hours ago, before I got lost in thought.

I was still typing away after an hour when I heard Quaritch clear out his throat shuffling his way over to the front of my desk. He announced, “You won’t betray me like Jake, will ya cupcake?” I looked at him curiously, as you to ask why he would bring up the topic of betrayal “Don’t fret kid, just a question. I want to make sure you are in a good headspace.” I nodded and simply answered with “No, I won’t betray you Quaritch. Now what is it you have to offer?”

The offer was not one I was expecting, we were headed to the old shack where Miles was killed. I was to take samples of the things around, retrieve anything of value. We dropped down from the Scorpion Gunship or ‘Helicopter’ for a simple name. I made sure to stay close to the Recoms. My plan wasn’t to die unless necessary. Quaritch looked around, fascinated almost by Pandora's woodlands. The other Recoms did the same.

“Stay close Spencer, don’t want your blood on our hands.” Zdinarsk smartly said. We also call her Z-Dog, which matches her personality. As we traveled farther into the forest we were met by four Viperwolfs, I watched as Quaritch and the others raised their weapons. Then the Viperwolves ran off, far away from us. “A nantang.”

Pandora's creatures are terrifying, Grace had spoken once about them. I snapped out of my thoughts once I heard Z-Dog speak, “No shit.” I started walking once more, this trip was going to be the death of me. Now the Recoms were on alert. We were close to the shack, we had to be. They made sure to keep their weapons raised, we really did not need to have casualties. Once I came into view with the shack I could see that it was covered with leaves and vines, Pandora’s life was making this beautiful.

I separated from the group once I heard that it was safe, I was to collect as many samples as possible. Miles made his way to his old suit, I felt sad for him. Though I didn’t need to. Miles is a bad person, he will always be. I saw some cool plants that I had yet to have samples of. I made sure to collect as much as possible. I was getting a little far from the Recoms but it was okay. I’d find my way back.

“Spencer, see if you can pull some data off that dashcam.” I heard Quaritch say from the distance, I groaned. Why did he have to interrupt my peacefulness? I made my way back over to the old shack, I saw them all surrounding Miles old suit, arrows pointing out of something. I assumed it was Quaritches decomposing skeleton. I swallowed hard going over and working to retrieve the data that should be left on this thing.

“Thing is deader than shit, Colonel.” Lyle said unsure if we could pull anything off of it. “Will you shut it?” I said quickly back to him, I was trying to concentrate, didn’t help that he was right. Maybe if the thing wasn’t deader than shit then I would be able to pull something from it. Quaritch chuckled lightly, “So were we.”

I shook my head lightly, chuckling. God they may be bad people but at least they have humor. Clicking on buttons, groaning when something didn’t go my way. Lyle kept watching as I worked. It was really pissing me off. “Can you stop breathing down my neck, Wainfleet.” I shook my head again, attitude radiating off of me. “No can do kid, gotta make sure you aren’t messing anything up.” I jumped slightly, I thought it was Lyle behind me, turns out it was Quaritch.

I really wanted to die, in that moment embarrassment consumed me. I continued to work pretending it was only me there and not everyone else. Looking around once I heard commotion, “Stay here. With me.” I knew something had to be up. Quaritch ran off with Lyle in the distance. I could see the other Recoms struggling, yelling. They were angry.

I swallowed hard, looking back at the old suit, continuing to work but I kept my ears open. I was definitely going to eavesdrop. I didn’t dare look over to where the Recoms were, I did not want Quaritch to call me over if he saw me being curious. I did not need to cause trouble today. I heard hissing and people speaking Na’vi quickly, I sighed knowing today was not going to end with me going back to the lab peacefully.

I clicked a few more buttons on the suit, finally I got the data that he wanted. I let out a long breath that I didn’t even realize I was holding. Slowly I got up brushing off the dirt on my trousers. These were my favorite pants, I didn’t want them to get too dirty. When I looked up from the ground Quaritch and the others were coming back over but with children. One was human.

I refused to acknowledge them, looking up at the Colonel. “Sir, I got what you asked for. I couldn’t retrieve much, Lyle was right that thing is deader than shit.” I glanced back at the Na’vi children, they looked familiar. Miles cleared his throat making me look back at him, “Get me some audio on this.” I nodded, pressing a few buttons as the audio echoed around. He looked disgusted.

“It’s Sully’s woman.” my lips formed into a line, this was awkward. Now I realize why those children look so familiar, they’re the Sully’s. Tonight someone was going to die, or maybe everyone. If we have Jake and Neytiri’s kids this won’t be good. This was going to be a rollercoaster that I did not want to ride. I felt my gut twist in knots, god did I feel sick. I did not consent to kidnapping children.

The kids kept struggling in the background, I could still hear the audio. I wanted to go back to my lab. I hated this, Quaritch and everything else. Everything was so loud all of a sudden, I was going to be sick. The sun was going down, it was going to be an eclipse soon. The audio from the tablet was making me sick, soon I heard Quaritch groan loudly, I looked and stared at my feet. I couldn’t listen anymore.

Lyle grabbed the tablet and handed it to me, “There is nothing after that, sir.” I sighed, I felt so sick. Quaritch reached over into his old suit, he then pulled out the human skull, crushing it into pieces. I gagged quietly hoping no one heard.

Now it was dark, big droplets from the sky fell onto my skin, soaking my clothing. Some of the Recoms kept their guns raised while the others kept hold of the children. I kept close to Quaritch like he told me too. “Three minutes.” I let out a breath of relief, finally going home. The forest was so quiet except for the occasional crunch from one of us moving around.

Quaritch told Sean to “Watch our 6”. God whatever that meant, I wanted to leave. I watched as the children looked around, Neytiri must be here. Now I was really starting to feel sick, oh I'm definitely going to die. Soon gunfire rang around echoing throughout the woodlands, I ran for cover seeing Sean had gotten shot with Neytiri’s arrow, straight through his head. I dry heaved, nothing coming up from my stomach.

“Lo’ak!” I heard faintly in between gunfire. It was so loud. I kept hidden behind a big tree, hoping that I would be safe. The rain kept coming down, hard and heavy. It reminded me of Earth. I used to love running and jumping in puddles with my big brother Jayce. Jayce could be so mean one second but then nice the next, me and him had a falling out once I told him I was going to work for the RDA.

God he knew this was a terrible idea, going to a different planet, killing native people, stealing from their land. It was Earth all over again. Tears rolled down my cheeks. I was so scared, I didn’t want to die. The RDA wasn’t finished with making my Avatar, not that I knew of anyway. If I died tonight I was going to stay dead.

Gunfire did not cease, neither did the yelling. I saw as the children ran off. Maybe they would have a chance. I jumped as a noise came close to me, Quaritch. God he pulled down Sean's body, I didn’t want that thing near me. I gagged again this time something came up. I couldn’t puke in my mask, so I swallowed it.

“Kid, I’m gonna need you to run when I tell you too.” I nodded at Mile’s words, everything was so loud still. I wanted to curl up and cry. I was so scared. Jayce was so right. Quaritch looked over at Sean’s body noticing Neytiri’s arrow, he looked terrified. PTSD maybe? I would hope so, something needs to scare that man.

The colonel reloaded his weapon, the sound was crisp. It was quiet all of a sudden, maybe everyone was dead besides me and him. Quaritch spoke with a smirk plastered on his face “Is that you, Mrs. Sully?” it was silent for a moment, I wished it would be forever, my headached. Throbbed even. “I recognize your calling card.” I really wanted to punch him, was he trying to die again?

A few of the Recoms started moving around, I looked to see what he wanted me to do. “Not yet.” I nodded wanting to disobey him and move. I knew he was right though, I needed to stay close, having no weapons on me was not a good thing. “Why don’t you come on out, Mrs. Sully.” Quaritch said calmly but loud, he grabbed his weapon. I knew he was going to shoot at her.

“The two of us have some unfinished business.” he cocked his gun, Jesus he was really risking lives here. Quaritch then looked at me, nodding, I knew the signal I was going to have to start running as fast as my feet could carry. “Demon! I will kill you as many times as I have to.” Neytiri spoke asserting dominance was lacing her voice.

“You and the Corporal have been pretty busy, haven’t you?” I hid behind another tree, this time farther away from Quaritch I knew that if I didn’t want to die I would have to be a little smart. “Got yourself a whole litter of half-breeds.” I looked down, why would he say that. When I see him again I am going to punch that smirk right off his face.

“Na’vi!” someone yelled, gunfire rang once more. This was not a war I wanted to be a part of. I started running, I needed to get out. Words shouted from everywhere, I ran faster and faster. Suddenly a sharp pain ran throughout my body, I looked down. Blood, I was hit. Suddenly I was thrown over someone's shoulder. I cried out in pain.

I heard muffled words, barely making anything out. “Fall back!” I heard someone shout to my right, I was finally going home. Soon all I felt was calm, it felt like I was floating. “Spencer?” I looked around quickly trying to find the source of the voice, my mom. “Mom?” I croaked out, oh how I missed her. Everything she was saying was muffled. I couldn't understand her.

“Mom?” I said again, maybe this time she would talk louder, more understandable. She didn’t, everything was going black. I felt cold. It was finally quiet, so quiet. Memories floated my mind, the time me and Jayce broke mothers favorite cup, she never got mad at us though. The time dad came home from his military training, oh how I loved that day. He was so tired yet still played with me.

Before what felt like forever peace, there was this light. Bright, my head hurt once more. My mother started disappearing, I tried grabbing her. It didn’t work. Soon my eyes opened once more. I groaned out looking around, “It is so bright in here.” I managed to croak out. Then I saw doctors, no scientists surrounding me. I jolted up, how was I alive.

“Calm down, calm down.” I knew that voice anywhere, Miles. He told the scientists to leave, give me space. I finally noticed that I was blue, I was in my Avatar. I laughed “This is real right?” Z-Dog laughed in the corner, “Hell yeah.” I smiled and laughed once more. Finally my plan was set. I knew what I was going to do. Jake might be getting that call.

#avatar #jake sully #miles quaritch #grace augustine #neteyam #lo'ak #spider socorro #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #colonel quaritch x reader #male reader #avatar x reader #avatar spoilers

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cosmicbucky · 8 months

Text

with charcoal hands and spoken dreams, we escaped together

part two, a summary: unable to keep your thoughts on anything but each other, the two of you find yourselves cracking open the door to the world of getting to know one another pairings: bucky barnes x female reader word count: 3036

warnings: minor swearing, awkward yet adorable flirting (that's not really flirting), first date but it's not actually a date, fluff, two already smitten idiots

part: two/?

⇠ part one

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The sun filtered through the window, your curtains billowing in the breeze. The familiar sounds of shouting and car horns honking pulled you from your sleep, and you stretched with a loud groan. You stared at the ceiling, hating the fact that the first thing to cross your mind were pastel sapphires accentuated by long dark hair, and pearly whites framed by pretty pink lips. You scolded yourself, quickly throwing the blankets off and standing up, feeling weird and guilty for thinking about a complete stranger in such a way.

You got ready for the day in your comfiest clothes, making yourself your favourite morning drink and enjoying your go-to breakfast, taking the time to wake up and enjoy the morning before bringing your drink to your desk, sitting down at your computer for another day of work.

You let your mind wander as you wrote, but the problem with that was this time it always went to the same place - the smell of old pages, the aroma of soil, gorgeous white cats, browns and greens and golds and oh, such pretty blues. This carried on for a few hours, and you barely got half the amount of work done that you usually do, not able to stick to the task at hand as you let yourself enjoy your daydreams a little too much, and for a little too long.

You felt like you were going insane, and you made the perfectly reasonable decision to go back and see the man again - you needed to thank him for letting you take refuge there, anyway. The problem, though, was that you had no idea if he was there again or not - you remember him implying that he owns the place, but did that mean he was always there? You had no idea, but being the completely sane and normal person you are, you searched up the store and decided to call, seeing if maybe he would answer.

The line rang out, and you felt yourself regretting the decision almost immediately. By the time you realized you had no idea what you would even say, and that it would be a good idea to just hang up, a voice was heard.

"This is James from The Planted Pages, how can I help you?"

Silk and whiskey, rough and tender. James.

You knew it was him immediately, and yes, you hated that you did, but how could anyone forget a voice like that? Your heart hammered in your chest and your brain lost track of all the vocabulary you used to know - you panicked.

"Oh. Hi, uh - James," you forced yourself to say, silently loving the feeling of his name rolling off your tongue. "I'm so sorry, I- I called the wrong number. Have a nice day!" you finished lamely, quickly hanging up and groaning, holding your head in your hands. You stayed there for a few moments, collecting yourself and calming your nerves before getting up to execute your plan.

Though you had no way to know, James was standing behind the counter of his shop, the phone still against his ear.

He had been driving himself crazy all morning. He hoped to catch a glimpse of you in all the passersby whenever he looked out the window. Every time the door opened, he hoped it was you he saw standing there when he looked up to greet whoever it was.

He shook the thoughts away when they would surface - he needed to accept that he didn't know you. That you were a stranger, a one time reprieve from his mundane life. He had no right to let you cross his mind so often; though you did. You crossed his mind so much he was starting to piss himself off, and he couldn't have been more thankful when the phone rang, giving him a distraction.

He happily made his way to the counter, glancing down at the caller ID (he had no way to know it was your name staring back at him) before quickly answering with his standard greeting of "This is James from The Planted Pages, how can I help you?”

"Oh. Hi, uh - James," you had replied, causing him to stand up straighter, feeling a sense of recognition when he heard your voice. No, it couldn't be. "I'm so sorry, I- I called the wrong number. Have a nice day!"

Oh, but it was. The softness, the shyness, the underlying awkwardness. It had to be you.

He smiled to himself, chuckling softly as he hung up the phone. He felt satisfied, in a strange way. Hearing your voice again let him know he didn't just imagine you, that it wasn't some vivid and twisted dream he had last night - after all, it wouldn't have been the first time he fell asleep in the shop after closing, waking up to Alpine purring and meowing in his ear.

He let his mind wander once more with fleeting thoughts of you and why you called - if it really was you - as he returned to his work; re-alphabetizing books, tending to the plants, dusting the shelves, and his most important task of the day - playing with Alpine. He was too caught up in dangling the toy high above her to hear the door open, too amused to notice the approaching footsteps.

"Um, hi," a soft voice cut through the air, causing him to whip his head up, tucking his hair behind his ear as he came face to face with - you.

"Hi," he replied softly, a grin forming on his lips as drank you in. He didn't understand why he felt so relieved to see you. Maybe it was because this meant he wasn't crazy, and this was further proof that you really were real. Maybe it was because the day was slow, and he was happy to see even the most vaguely familiar face. Or, maybe because it was you, and he had been hoping to see you again the second you left his shop.

You, on the other hand, knew exactly why you were relieved to see him again - you just wouldn't admit it to yourself. He captivated you. He was beautiful, a seemingly perfect mix of open and mysterious, a magnetizing being that pulled you in without warning like a current on a sunny beach. You knew exactly why you wanted to come back today, but the reason would never leave the vault tucked away in your mind - you didn't know him, and you needed to be careful. This you knew, this you told yourself. The only problem was that you never fucking listen.

You stood there before him for a moment, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought over your words, before finally breaking the silence. "I just… wanted to thank you again. You know, for last night. I know it wasn’t a crazy big deal, but you were nice, and I-... well, I really appreciate it."

You gave him a small, lopsided smile as you stood there uncomfortably, realizing it may have been a dumb idea to come back here.

"You really didn't need to do this, you know," he told you gently, a smile still on his lips. “Come back here, I mean. Just for that.”

"No, I know. I just… wanted to," you replied with a shy smile, shrugging your shoulders a little.

He chuckled, making music for your ears. "Well, again, you’re welcome. It was a nice change of pace compared to how I usually close up shop."

A laugh slipped past your lips, and he perked up at the sound, taking an unintentional step forward as though he was literally being pulled in by you.

"Well.. glad I could provide that, then," you told him, an amused smile dancing on your lips.

He smiled at you, a question lingering on his tongue as curiosity danced in his eyes. Though as he opened his mouth to speak, the courage left him and he let out a breathy chuckle, looking down at the cat toy still in his hands - and you noticed for the first time one of them was a prosthetic, the black and gold a stark contrast to the pink flirt pole it held within its grasp.

“I’m James, by the way,” he said softly, looking back at you with a sheepish smile.

The words ‘I know’ were so close to tumbling out of your mouth you had to laugh quietly to keep them in, giving him a smile and your name in return.

His smile grew a little, his eyes lighting up as if the sun was shining down on the sea as he realized it was you that called - the words ‘I know’ dancing around in his mind, too.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he decided to say instead, though his amusement was not lost on you.

Chuckling nervously, you venture a guess as to why: “You have caller ID, don’t you?”

A hearty laugh escaped him as he nodded, a grin splitting across his face as he spoke a playful “I thought you called the wrong number.”

“Oh, my god,” you groaned, completely mortified. “I’m so sorry, that was my super not subtle way of finding out if you were here or not.”

Upon seeing the humoured look on his face and the arch of his eyebrow at your words, you widened your eyes and carried on rambling: “No! I just meant - well I wanted to thank you, right? So I had to make sure you were actually here so I could do that, so I called - as you know, and then-”

“Do you like coffee?” he asked unexpectedly, cutting you off. He had to cut you off because you were too freaking adorable in the way you jabbered, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed and he was teetering so close to the edge already that he was afraid he’d topple completely head first if he didn’t stop you.

“What?” you questioned after a brief pause, realizing what he asked.

“Do you like coffee?” he repeated, a faint smile on his face as he took in your dazed expression.

“Uh, yeah… yeah, I like coffee,” you told him with a chuckle, both amused and confused.

“Any chance you feel like grabbing one?” he asked, the silent invitation louder than ever.

You smiled with a titter, nodding your head. “Yeah, I do. There’s a really great place just up the street - this can be my thank you.”

He shook his head, entertained by your persistence to show him thanks for something he thought to be a simple act. If anything, he felt as though he should be thanking the universe for bringing you to him.

“Alright, alright. It’s a deal,” he chortled, finally acceding.

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

Before you knew it, the two of you were sitting by the window of your favourite coffee shop, Metal and Moss, sharing comfortable silences and embarrassing tidbits. Neither of you had any clue as to why you felt so comfortable sharing these things with each other, but neither of you wanted to dwell on it.

"So," he spoke, breaking the momentary lapse in conversation as the two you silently mused over the other, stealing glances when the other looked away. "You said you were a poet?"

You smiled, shaking your head as you recalled saying this last night. "I said kind of a poet," you corrected playfully.

"Oh, please forgive me," he joked, holding a hand to his heart. "So, you said you were kind of a poet?"

You giggled, smiling in satisfaction. "I'm a writer. I've been trying to delve into different styles, so I took a new piece to the open mic last night to test it out, see how I felt about it."

"How did it go?" he inquired, genuinely curious about the experience.

Grimacing slightly, you shrugged. "It… well, it seemed to be well received, but I'm still not sure about it."

He nodded thoughtfully, taking in your response. "Not comfortable with it?"

"Not at all," you sighed, laughing a little. "I think that's a good thing, though. It's always good to step out of your comfort zone, right?"

He hummed in response, a knowing smirk on his lips. This was something out of both your comfort zones, yet at the same time, the two of you were perfectly comfortable with each other's company.

"Yeah," he agreed. "You're most definitely correct."

"What about you?" you questioned, raising your eyebrows curiously. "You said you're not an artist, but from what I could see those pieces of yours looked rather impressive."

A nervous laugh left him as heat flooded his cheeks; he tried to hide it by taking a drink from his coffee mug, but it did not go unnoticed by you. You had to force yourself to look away, not able to believe how pretty this man before you was.

"It's just… something I do for fun," he muttered sheepishly.

"You didn't go to school for it or anything?" you questioned curiously.

He shook his head, shifting in his seat. "No, I-... I did, actually. The world had other plans for me, though."

Though it was subtle, you saw the way his eyes fleeted down towards his left hand before meeting yours again, heard how the next breath he took was a little deeper and shakier than his last.

"Story for another time?" you offered lightly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

Giving you a grateful smile, he nodded slightly. "Another time."

"Before we left, you mentioned you were gonna tell Steve to watch the shop while you were gone. Do you guys run the place together?" you asked, trying to change the topic.

"No, not at all," he said with a laugh. "Well, actually… I guess we kind of do - but not officially. He doesn't work there or anything, he's just around a lot."

Giving him a quizzical look, you nodded slowly. "Did he… come with the shop like Alpine did?" you had asked, attempting to make a joke of it while still trying to get information.

Snorting in response and almost choking on his coffee, he broke into a fit of laughter so jovial that you couldn't help but laugh along with him for a minute.

"Fuck, that was good," he admitted, still laughing softly. "Him and I have been friends since we were kids, so he helps out a lot."

"Oh, that's really nice, actually. You're both from around here?" you replied, suddenly itching to know more about him.

"Brooklyn," he supplied. "We met in school - grade 3, I think. Most annoying punk you'll ever meet."

The undertone of affection in his words made you smile, and a comfortable silence fell between you once more.

You both had so much more you wanted to ask, needed to know, but neither of you wanted to pry too much right off the bat like this. He did, however, return the question of where you were from, allowing you to happily tell him the story of where you grew up. He listened to you wholly, his attention never once straying - how could it? How could something be more captivating than the sparkle in your eyes as you told him about your hometown, or more adorable than the smile on your face as you spoke of family and friends? He realized with a start that he could listen to you talk for hours; and though you were a normally reserved person, you realized you couldn't seem to shut up around him. Neither of you cared about these revelations though, and you eagerly rambled on while he contentedly listened, adding in a question or story of his own from time to time.

The light began to shift outside the window, ever changing between casting the two of you in candescence and silhouettes as the sun drifted out of sight, afternoon turning into evening. Neither of you noticed the time passing by - or, maybe you did and just didn’t care. It was hard to care about anything else besides pulling a laugh from the lips of the man across from you, relishing in the way it made his eyes crinkle and butterflies erupt in your gut. It was hard for him to think about anything else besides the way your cheeks blossomed with colour every time he threw you a cheesy line, or the soft giggles you tried to stifle.

It was with great difficulty that you managed to say the words: “We should probably get back to our work, now.”

Though a laugh accompanied your statement, the heaviness of it was still felt. It was strange, this sense of ease and familiarity you two felt with each other; but it was nice. It was fun. It was exciting.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed with a small sigh. “Well, thank you for the ‘thank you’ coffee,” he added with a chuckle.

A soft giggle left you as you smiled softly. “My pleasure, James.”

“You can call me Bucky,” he informed you amiably. “All my friends do.”

“Alright then. My pleasure, Bucky,” you said with a nod, reiterating your previous statement to match his declaration.

He grinned in satisfaction, and it took everything in you to not beam in response to how stupidly adorable he looked.

“You know, as great as this was, I’m afraid we may have a problem on our hands,” he declared breezily, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

“Really? What would that be?” you asked curiously, mirroring his body language.

“I think we may just find ourselves in a cycle. ‘Cause I’m gonna have to thank you this coffee now,” he told you with a smile. “If you’ll let me, that is.”

You did your best to not pay attention to the fluttering in your stomach as you thought about it, tried to ignore the pounding of your heart. Instead, you succumbed to the smile that was fighting its way across your lips and looked at him with rosy cheeks - and he prayed to anyone who would listen that you wouldn’t notice how difficult it suddenly was for him to breathe when he saw your expression.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I’ll let you.”

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