#this was like two weeks overdue but I got distracted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sxtaep · 2 years

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ALL I WANT - JJK | five

after distancing yourself from jungkook because of the indirect confession you made, you never realised how much you’d miss him, and what better way to show him that than through the phone?

pairing — jungkook x female reader

genre — fluff, smut

word count — 10.5k

chapter warnings/tags — bestfriends2lovers!au, fuckboy!jk, textbooknerd!reader, dom!jk, sub!reader, joon is a drug dealer, tae is a junkie, vmin sideship, soft shower scene, indirect confession, lots of touching, jk is so oblivious, late night texting, jk loves your glasses, explicit content, sexting, mutual masturbation, exchanging of illicit photos, exchanging of illicit videos, teasing, male masturbation, female masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, praise, so much cum +more.

a/n: this is LONG overdue, but the loml loma @velvetwicebang should’ve been recognised earlier when posting this series for her everworking writing skills and input (especially for jungkook’s pov of things) so pls show her all the love 🥹 i swear she doesn’t bite ☹️🫶

also, apologies for the inactivity, your girl was dying in a&e with a cyst (it’s still there) and is now on indefinite sick leave from work 💀😭

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

Oh.

So maybe Jungkook didn’t have a valid reason to narrow his eyes once you left him alone after he’d mustered up the energy to sit up on the bed, pouting to himself after he was turned away in the midst of tossing his leg over the edge of the mattress, about to boldly follow your footsteps into the shower until he heard the lock click.

“Wha..” Confusion spilling from his doe eyes, he stopped dead in his tracks and ruffled the back of his fluffy bed hair, staring at the door with his brows slightly furrowed as he made out the sound of the shower from outside the connected bathroom, “Whatever, fuck you.” The man raised his voice to shout the following, already knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hear him, “Not like I also wanted to shower or anything!”

Jungkook was clearly pouting and he’d rather get a hundred carpet burns than let you see that side of him no matter how much it bothered him, so the man ‘brushed it off’ and scooted his bare ass further up the bed, stopping when his back met the wooden headboard behind him.

He figured this would be the perfect time to catch up on his texts, now that you decided to leave him completely alone. (It wasn’t even that big of a deal, honestly, yet the sulking man seemed awfully desperate to look for other ways to distract his brain from thinking about it, naturally tapping on his and the guys’ groupchat).

He always prepared himself for the most chaotic situations, just a few weeks ago the chat went crazy bickering over who would pay for Hoseok’s bail money after the latter got drunk off his ass, and funnily enough, the week before that one Hobi sent a long ass text declaring he decided to stop drinking.

Just like that, out of nowhere.

Of course, no one believed him.

Unlike those times, this morning’s topic of conversation seemed to be…normal, which was rare.

namjoon added ‘chim’ to the chat!

chim: hey guys! 👋

yoongi: holy fuck he’s alive

hoeseok: who💀 jimin or joon?

yoongi: damn both of em😭😭😭 just 30 mins alone w you can’t be easy

hoeseok: fuck u.

namjoon: we all know you want to dude, but he’s happily taken remember??

hoeseok: i’m gonna kick myself out this gc 😭

u guys need to chillllll

jin: just like how jungkook chilled w y/n in your bed last night 😏😏

yoongi: bro 💀💀💀💀

hoeseok: nah bc i’m actually still pissed that fucker offered to buy me a new bed set under 50 bucks????? what world does he live in

namjoon: 😑😑 okay wheres tae? he has to know where jungkook’s at

jin: he’s probably at y/n’s place but there’s also a possibility that he ran back to his dorm like a pussy

namjoon: taetae

TAEEEEEE

namjoon: tae answer or no more hard drugs for you to get addicted to 🙄 your choice

yoongi: dude shut up the guy’s probably still sleeping

jin: tae did you call a chick over after i dropped you off last night?

hoeseok: i wouldn’t blame him

he was babysitting joon most of the night, he had no chance to shoot his shot

tae: fuk no

i dropped dead on the couch as soon as i got home

yoongi: so jungkook didn’t come home last night?

Taehyung chewed on his bottom lip from his bedroom, hesitating on whether he should throw his best friend under the bus just to save himself from any more unsolicited revelations in front of new interest Jimin, or suck it up like a man.

tae: no, he’s still at y/n’s

jin: I FUCKING CALLED IT

jeon: DUDE

Jungkook was never gonna hear the end of it. The guys already teased the hell out of him because of you, and now that he actually fucked you, he would never live it down.

jeon: i’m never covering for ur ass again 🙄

yoongi: ….u guys are such best friends it’s disgusting

namjoon: mf have you been lurking all along

jin: he probably has 💀

hoeseok: PUSSY

jeon: oh fuck off hyung i get more play than you

Maybe that was a little too far, but Jungkook was sticky and sweaty and your bedroom was hot as shit. A nice shower would’ve sufficed.

jeon: respectfully. sorry. ily. pick out a new bed set xoxo.

yoongi: DAMN 💀💀

namjoon: ...

jin: 🙇‍♂️ me bowing bc i taught him well

hoeseok: make it a $100 bed set 😒

jeon: ur crazy if u think i have $100 on me

but deal 🤝

After that’d been set in stone, readying for his pockets to hurt, Jungkook carelessly tossed his phone aside and combed one hand through his oily hair, on his feet and on his way to invite himself into the shower with you.

You wouldn’t mind, right?

It’d only been 5 minutes since you stepped into the shower, just standing under the shower head and letting the steaming hot water run down your body.

What if he left?

No, he wouldn’t leave again.

But what if he did?

The thought left an unsettling feeling in your stomach and you had this sudden urge to hit pause on your shower and check he was still there, lying naked on your bed, but you held yourself back. Caring this much was not a good sign.

“Open up,” Jungkook annoyingly rattled on the doorknob with his forehead pressed against the door, unknowingly soothing your anxiety while acting like a needy child, not once stopping his tugging and turning on the metal knob. “Let me innnn!”

Alright, now he was fucking with you, grinning whilst waiting to meet you face to face.

The constant rattling of the doorknob startled you, but Jungkook’s whiny voice was one you could always recognise, even if he was faking it. At least he didn’t go home, so that was a win for you.

You stopped massaging your scalp, bits of bubbles following your every move as you stepped out of the shower, leaving the water to run. The bathrobe that was hanging behind the door was now draped over your body to cover your front, now holding onto the doorknob and fighting off the hopefulness in your eyes.

“God, I thought someone was breaking in,” you sigh, holding the bathrobe tightly to your chest. “What do you need, Kook?” You try to sound as unamused as you could spotting the stupidly attractive grin on his face, yet the sight of him from the neck down played as a distraction.

“What does it look like I need? A goddamn shower.”

Jungkook was right about a shower. Things got so messy and he was walking around the dorm with his dick out, he probably made more mess for you to clean up.

Pushing past your dumbfounded self, Jungkook didn’t question why you were covering yourself up after what you both just did, but he figured he’d get to see you naked soon enough if you were about to shower together.

Like regular friends did, of course.

“What are you waiting for?” The man turned to look over his shoulder after stepping under the lukewarm stream of water, staring at you past the wet hair that fell over his eyes, “Join me.”

You stared back at him, mouth slightly ajar as your eyes dipped a little too low and met with droplets of water rushing between every crevice of his abs. He had no right looking like a nude model right now

“Right…” you mentally rolled your eyes and let out a huff, pulling the bathrobe off your body, but you felt a little exposed; more focused on the fact that now neither of you were exactly ‘in the moment.’

The bathrobe pooled at your ankles and you parted ways from it, hesitantly climbing in and standing in front of the much larger male so you could also snag some of the water from the shower head. Jungkook had an advantage, being much bigger and taller, most of the water would land on his shoulders and just bounce off, ignoring your presence.

Being this close to him once again; your soaked back pressing against his built chest and practically sticking to him, you felt the urge to apologise because there was absolutely no way you were doing this on purpose. “Sorry, it’s a little tight in here,” you speak up, glancing back at him over your shoulder and making sure you weren’t making him uncomfortable, yet your apology was useless; you were still unknowingly, pressing up against him.

The part of Jungkook that didn’t always think with his dick found your newborn shyness awfully endearing.

‘It was a pattern,’ he’d noticed, ‘after we’re done fucking, she suddenly gets real shy, even avoids looking into my eyes as if she wasn’t just batting her eyelashes up at me minutes ago’.

Sometimes he wished to dive into your mind without any sort of heads up, just him as he came, pocketing a handful of your thoughts and knowledge for himself along the way (maybe then he’d actually know what went on in your head during moments like these, where all that spoke was the running water as it caressed his naked body and shunned yours).

“You don’t have to apologize, dummy,” Jungkook shook his head, although you couldn’t see him, taking a minute to expand his eyes down your unblemished back, not exclusively sexual, but heavily aware of how he was practically hogging the shower all to himself.

“Here,” with both hands clasped over your shoulders, Jungkook stepped back and let you take over his spot, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead and running a hand down his face to get rid of any water droplets.

Grabbing a bottle of soap he found on the side, Jeon thought about washing himself but changed his mind upon realising there was someone else that could do it for him.

You.

Maybe this would help you get over your timidness, and in all honesty, Jungkook felt a little out of place for being so casual and nonchalant about all of this..

“Yo, shower hogger,” the taller tapped your shoulder with his index finger, waiting until you turned around to raise his brows and glance down at his body expectantly, extending the bottle of soap out towards you, “I’m just so tired, help me wash?” He felt like he was quoting the beginning scene of a porno, and Jungkook knew that you knew that he was exaggerating.

You looked up at Jungkook with an ‘are you serious’ kind of expression, raising a brow at him as if he was crazy. “You’re tired? Please,” you shook your head. If anything, you should be the one that’s tired, especially after that mind-blowing head session you have him, but still, you gave into the big man, grabbing the bottle of berry scented soap from his grasp and squeezing a generous amount onto your palms.

“Since when did you need help taking showers? Last time I checked, babies needed that.” you lather the soap in your hands, rubbing them together to create more bubbles before taking a step back and looking the man up and down, deciding where the hell to even start. “You’re a big baby, aren’t you, Jeon?” you tease, finally deciding to set your palms flat on his chest as you kept your eyes trained on him, very much mocking him with just your eyes.

Jungkook was definitely not built like a big baby, but there were times where he’d do the most endearing things that made you wanna squeeze his cheeks and gauge out his doe eyes. Like, when you’d upset him over little things, he’d sit around pretending he wasn’t upset but you would clearly see the pout on his face, with the added crossing his arms over his chest (exactly like a child).

You grabbed onto his bicep, pulling his body closer to yours a little and snaking his arm around your waist just to keep a secure hold on you so you both could catch some of the water running up above. You wondered about your next move. It seemed a little unusual, massaging his chest under the shower, but then again, you’d already done far from appropriate things; including sweaty bodies, someone’s tears, and a shitload of cum.

Despite all that, you gently caressed the damp skin of his chest, awfully slow and counting each tiny little bubble bursting against him. “Like this?” you prompt, gliding your fingers across his chest and the action itself left your own chest tingling.

This was next level intimate.

Jungkook hadn’t said anything else after childishly puffing out a, ‘I’m not a baby’ with a comical roll of his smiling eyes, studying your face and changing expressions in comfortable silence whilst you roamed your hands over his soapy chest, the arm that curled around the you holding you securely with one palm pressed flat over the small of your back.

Fuck, Jungkook hoped you couldn’t make out how fast his wild little heart was beating even behind all those bubbles. You couldn’t… right? It would quite literally kill the man to try and explain himself out of that one because— he didn’t fucking know why his heart was running laps either!

He already worried enough that he made himself look dumb in front of his super smart best friend; he wanted you to think he had the brains of goddamn Einstein, like yourself, and looking for the right words to explain himself wasn’t going to do him any justice.

Either way, Jungkook just knew it was nice having someone else wash him up… like a servant.

A pretty servant with great tits, at that.

“Yeah..” Jeon finally breathed out another word, unaware that he was inching in towards your face quietly enough that you didn’t catch on and stop your scrubbing, “Just like that.”

He had to uncomfortably tip his neck down a little to reach you, but when his parted lips were merely inches away from yours, Jungkook didn’t waste any time and trapped you in a surprisingly slow moving kiss, raising one hand to cup the side of your face as his thumb traced over your cheekbones.

‘He kissed me first!’ was all you could think about right now. And the kiss easily held a deeper meaning behind it, one that didn’t scream ‘we’re kissing because of sex’. Unless Jungkook thought exactly that..

Then that would be a lot of damage.

Were you hearing yourself right now? You felt pitiful; falling for him after fucking him and now you were head-over-heels for the man just because he kissed you first.

What were the chances of him deciding to settle down? And would Jungkook settle down with you? It was a question you never wanted to answer, or hear the answer to, because there were very high chances the answers to both those questions wouldn’t benefit you. You did hold a tiny bit of hope, only the tiniest, that maybe, just maybe, Jungkook could be feeling the same way. His heart literally on the verge of bursting against your palm struck up a couple questions in your mind, but you easily dismissed them, using the water as an excuse to cover for him.

Yet, with all those doubts, you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. God knows you wanted to kiss him and he was merely doing you a favour by getting Jungkook to make the first move. It was unexpected, but that’s what made it all the best.

When he did finally pull away after a full minute of tasting your soft lips, his tongue cheekily swiped over his bottom lip while still cupping your face in his big hands, looking into your eyes with that endearing smile that made your heart jump.

You stopped moving your hand, leaving it to rest again his chest whilst your free hand made home on top of his, your fingertips briefly brushing over your cheek as you intertwined your fingers, pulling his hand down to your chest.

Right over your beating heart.

“You don’t realise it, but you have my heart running laps,” you whisper softly, squeezing Jungkook’s hand and suddenly releasing him from your hold, doing your best to turn your back on him and bask under the warm water raining above.

Good idea, leave him confused with words.

Jungkook wasn’t that stupid though, he was perceptive only when it seemed advantageous to him, which was something you picked up on over the years. He’d be able to crack this one. Surely.

You groaned quietly to yourself, lulling your head back a little to have the water slip down your front, but you were too distracted by the warmth to notice your head falling back against his chest, your body relaxing as you released a soft breath.

Nothing outright witty or smart-assy slipped out his mouth during the shared, tender moment between you both; Jungkook acknowledged your words within his own mind, quietly, digesting whatever it was that that had the back of his neck and tips of his ears drowning red.

The man thought about your— ‘you have my heart running laps’ —for quite a while now, a week to be exact, and sometimes it’d pop in his head at the most random times, it was lowkey starting to freak him out.

Wherever Jungkook was, so were you. Figuratively.

In his mind that was usually blank, you were there, present as always while prompting his heart to beat recklessly and his lungs to stutter whilst they filled with air, often catching him off guard.

Truthfully, Jeon had been too busy battling it out with noobs on Call of Duty, to really question what you meant that day. You weren’t making it easy for him to talk to you either. You completely shut him out after the shower ‘incident’ (which was approximately 2 days ago) and used the excuse of ‘I need to catch up on my assignments’, to avoid him.

Obviously he didn’t know that, but he wasn’t suspicious either. It was normal for you to go radio silent for a couple days to focus on your studies, and Jungkook respected that. Normally he’d bug you, but not this time around.

Which was weird.

Even Taehyung found it odd, coming back home and finding Jungkook still playing his game. He was high as hell, but he knew something weird when he saw it.

Slumping against the empty space beside Jungkook, Taehyung carelessly throws his arm around the younger’s muscly shoulders. “What’ve you been up to, then? You been sitting on your ass this whole time?” he asks, eyeing the TV screen and seeing that he was currently in the game lobby, waiting to start a new match. “No girls over tonight? Not even Y/N?”

Even though he was high, a part of him wanted things to set sail between you and his roommate.

“Were you too shy to call her? Or did she just reject you when you tried?” Taehyung’s assumptions weren’t impossible. He’d been around long enough to watch Jungkook’s countless invitations to hang out or get something to eat, get straight up rejected by you because you were too busy studying.

“Ah, Y/N?” No use in brushing it off now.

Two days without seeing you or talking to you, felt like an eternity, but Jungkook was determined to stay quiet. Ever since you both hooked up for the first time, he’s mostly been the one to text or call to ask if he could come over and y’know what, that is if Jeon excluded the times he’d just show up at your doorstep unannounced.

Point was.. he was waiting for you to need him, not the other way around like it often was.

Now, Jungkook wasn’t expecting you to text him and blatantly say how much you needed him to come over and fuck you so good you’d forget about everything you studied (even if that would make him harder than anything else in the world), but even just an ‘i miss you’ or ‘i’m done studying, come over’ would make him drop anything and everything for you.

It was a new and weird feeling, thinking like this. He never waited around for a girl, even if he had a line of them waiting to get dicked down by him.

“I’m not shy, we’ve just been busy doing our own thing.” He huffed out at Tae’s assumption, not daring to make any eye contact since being best friends with Taehyung since middle school meant the latter knew when he was bullshitting, always. It was weird as hell and even more impressive when Tae could point it out when he wasn’t sober..

Jungkook was looking straight at Tae now with big eyes and his teeth busy nibbling at his lip, like he was caught red handed and it was too obvious that that’s been something that’d been on his mind for a while.

With a low groan, the younger ran both hands down his face and slid down the couch, muscly legs lazily spread as he leaned his head back on the headrest and remained silent. Until he didn’t; Taehyung had a way of getting information out of him without barely saying a word. Something about his deadpan gaze…

“I know she’s not the type, but a text saying that she needs me- if you know what I mean, and not the other way around? I’d give her my kid, man.”

That was a complete reach and even if Jungkook did chuckle a little at that, his feelings and everything else he said were true. The younger shrugged and played off those strong feelings, “It’s whatever, though. You probably felt the same way about a girl you hooked up with at some point in time, right?”

All Taehyung could think about was ‘who the fuck possessed his roommate?’ No, even better question; ‘why is a girl making his best friend feel like this?’ In all the years Taehyung knew Jungkook, never had he ever seen the younger male care so much about a girl he fucked.

But… there was a difference. You weren’t just any girl he fucked. You were Jungkook’s only girl friend that he fucked.

Given the history between you two, things obviously felt more fragile and more… intimate? At least that’s what Taehyung thought. He wasn’t even part of the relationship, but because of the younger being so new to experiencing such feelings, it was almost second nature for him to feel the same way (out of sympathy). “I don’t know, dude… I’ve never felt like that, but you sound like you’re having withdrawal symptoms being without her for so long,” he shrugs, eyeing the male who looked like he was so far down the ‘I’m in love with her, but i’m gonna act like I don’t care’ hole.

Taehyung could’ve easily lied and told Jungkook that it was normal for him to feel so attached to his girl friend, but who was he kidding? It wasn’t normal to feel so attached unless you were deeply in love.

“You sure you’re not… in love with her, dude?” he teases, ruffling Jungkook’s hair in the most brotherly way possible. He was only trying to scare the im younger male and make him overthink a little. “I’m kidding! Just stop being a pussy and go to her. Tell her what you want. Like, straight up. I’m tellin’ you, girls dig that. There’s nothing girls want more than a guy being straight to the point.”

Jeon Jungkook was most definitely, most surely not in love with you. What even was love? He could think of a few examples..

His dad cutting off the crusts in his mom’s sandwiches, Hoseok babysitting Namjoon, Mrs. Kim working hard to make sure her small, country-boy Tae went off to a nice college (and got away from his ego-filled dad. Jungkook met him a few times and he was an A class asshole).

Either way, the younger never really saw that kind of love for him. It all seemed unattainable and whatever Jungkook was feeling towards you, it couldn’t have been love. Maybe lust, just in his own special way..

“I’m not in love with her, are you crazy?” Jeon sighed out loud and considered taking Taehyung’s advice for real, just maybe not at 12:30 in the morning.. “Okay, fine, but,” Jungkook turned his body to chuckle at the irony in his roommate’s words, “When have you ever been straight up with a girl, Tae? Was it when you asked her to give you that fresh hickey on your neck tonight?”

It was huge and Jungkook had been eyeing the red bruise just underneath Taehyung’s jaw for a few moments prior. “Was this before or after you went to meet up with Jimin because damn,” the younger was laughing now, inching to take a closer look at possibly the biggest hickey he’d ever seen, unaware it was Jimin who left those very marks.

As if he couldn’t be any more skeptical than he already was, Taehyung’s palm was quick to smack against his neck, making himself wince in the process as he discreetly rubbed the bruised area and avoided all eye contact with Jungkook. His jaw tensed as he tried to stop himself from blushing. Remnants of tonight’s events were running through his mind, and he had to stop before his dick got hard again. But that seemed impossible. Jimin was just this ultra, superior, ethereal being with the superpowers to keep his dick hard and heart fluttering for days on end. “Hey!” Taehyung scowls, smacking Jungkook’s head (not too hard) and pulling away from his susceptive gaze.

“Firstly, mind your own, secondly, I got bitten by a mosquito.” That was the lamest excuse in the book, but once again, this is where Jeon’s cluelessness played at his advantage. “Jimin lives in this whole other area, like expensive apartments and neighbourhoods and shit. There’s palm trees everywhere, too so there were a lot of flies,” Taehyung explained; sounding as brief and unbothered as possible. In case Jungkook didn’t believe him, he added, “Seriously, It felt like I was in another country when I arrived.”

Hopefully he played it off well. The man was pretty good at acting, especially when it came to promising girls he’d spend another night with them. It never happened.

“Whatever, man, turn the game off. I need the couch,” he yawns dramatically whilst stretching his arms above his head. “I can’t feel my legs.” It was a natural occurrence for Taehyung to sleep on the couch after a night of non-stop drugs. He would quite commonly complain about not being able to feel his legs because they’d be so numb, thus deeming him immobile until sober the next morning.

Taehyung executed the lame excuse perfectly, Jungkook completely brushed it off.. right after he finished tending to the minor concussion from his roommate.

Annoyed but kind, he ran off to the kitchen and paired an Ibuprofen with a tall glass of water to sit on the coffee table at an arm’s reach for the other male to quench his fleeting sobriety with, taking his earned title of ‘best friend’ extra seriously while throwing a spare blanket over Tae’s limp body on the couch, turning off the TV seconds later and going into his room.

Throwing himself to lie on his bed, the sudden urge to send you a text loomed over. He knew, he knew… he was supposed to let you reach out to him, but maybe you were just busy and forgot about him. Plus, waiting around was boring and nowhere near as exhilarating as—

jungkook: you haven’t forgotten about me yet? 🤓

Was it super obvious you was avoiding Jungkook?

Maybe.

What’s the best way to avoid someone?

Drown yourself in your studies.

It was probably advantageous to you now, since studying was always the excuse you used to get yourself out of unwanted situations. And this wouldn’t be a surprise to Jungkook. He had the shorter end of of the stick when it came to wanting to hang out, you would always reject his pleas.

This past week, you needed to ‘get back on your grind’ and all this faffing about with Jungkook left a lasting impact on your daily routine.

Every time you sat on your couch (which was often) you’re reminded of the very first night you both laid hands on each other. How could you forget? There was probably remnants of that night still burnt into your couch. Every time you’re sat at your desk, you’re reminded of the little note Jungkook left the following morning, apologising for leaving so early.

Hard to believe, your poor self displayed the note at the corner of your desk, right in front of your old textbooks. It seemed cringe, but you found it cute and got some sort of serotonin looking at it while you were studying. Every night when you go to bed, you mindlessly stare at the empty space next to you for at least an hour before falling asleep, thinking how it would’ve been Jungkook next to you.

And the shower… where you indirectly confessed to him, but instead, only confused yourself, and you had no doubt you confused him too (he wasn’t any smarter than you were).

In all honesty, you were waiting for Jungkook to approach you first, which was too much to ask for since he always texted first. But, you were hoping he’d say something about your last interaction. Was the “you got my heart running laps” not enough for him? Or was he really that clueless?

Whatever it was, you didn’t dwell on it, almost jumping out of the comfy seat at her desk and lungeing to reach your phone off the bed. Your heart was doing that annoying racing thing and your fingers were twiddling at your screen.

you: y’know what?

i completely forgot you existed for a sec

what was your name again?

john?

Damn. Jeon was torn between laughing or having a go at you for that line as he laid out sprawled over his bed thinking of what to make of it, a tight lipped smile settled things and pushed through Jungkook’s efforts to take small offense to what you said.

“Pfft, John?”

However, that sly grin always appeared whenever you were confident and smart-assy with him. With shame lesser than -10000, Jungkook could easily admit he found it hot. He could stupidly stand in the middle of a street with both arms outstretched and yell, ‘I find it really hot when Lee Y/N gives me a taste of my own medicine, so what?! She’s very hot to me!’

Obviously that wasn’t going to happen, but trust that he would if it came down to it.

jungkook: john huh? who’s that, textbook #1? 😕

but uh. how’s jerry doing?? yknow. textbook #3 😉

It was the highlight of his night; Jungkook hadn’t even realized his cheeks were turning sore from smiling so big. If any of the guys walked in they’d think he won the lottery and then some, but no, it was just you.

It always seemed to be about you— is what the guys would say, surely. No one else.

jungkook: and i doubt you forgot about my existence, you like me too much

hell, you probably even missed me, i know i missed you

Anyone could bet you were forcing yourself not to break out into a fit of giggles (resulting in you just writhing in your seat) because there was no way a man was suddenly making you laugh this hard. Jungkook was making you laugh so hard.

It took you a couple seconds to regain your composure before tapping at your keyboard again.

you: john and jerry are doing good

they’ve been keeping me company and treating me well

i wouldn’t have it any other way 😩

Having Jungkook keep you company would obviously be better, but you can’t always get what you want.

You didn’t catch the next couple messages he sent, instead opening your camera and snapping a quick photo of the mess of scrap papers and opened textbooks lying on your desk, not even realising the note Jungkook left you a couple nights ago was peeking out in the corner of the frame.

You attach the photo to your next message;

you: this sums up my week

you know the drill

As you waited for the attachment to deliver, you scrolled down to finally see the recent message he sent, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

Jungkook missed you?

A faint hint of pink drowned your cheeks as you contemplated on how to respond?

Do you reciprocate, or just be passive and ignore him? The second option seemed pretty appropriate, because if he missed you so much, why didn’t he do anything about it?

That option however, would just open up a whole other can of worms and would probably end up with the pair bickering until the early hours of dawn.

You missed him so much this week, you didn’t want this interaction to go to waste.

you: i think YOU like me too much since you missed me so bad

are you obsessed with me?

it’s okay if you are, but you’ll have to wait in line for your turn

That joke was no longer valid ever since you guys fucked.

you: if it makes you feel better, i guess i missed you too

Unlike you and your adorable stickling for structure, it was a shock Jungkook waited until all the blurbs of texts were done coming through considering how restlessness was naturally wired in his veins, but he preferred to indulge in each individual bubble once they disappeared from the bottom of his screen.

He didn’t want to take the risk of saying something stupid and fucking everything up, not after so long (2 days), so for you, he’d learn to be patient— even if that sounded difficult to actually go through.

Almost immediately his eyes widened at the amount of individual texts that finished pouring in (he always had a way of knowing if you were mad at him. If you sent him no more than three individual texts at a time, that meant he needed to hide).

But more than taken aback, Jungkook had an idea of what that meant on a deeper, more obvious level. It was so clear that you missed him and if his heart didn’t pound enough at the idea of it, the beating organ nearly jumped out of Jeon’s chest when his eye accidentally skipped down the list and landed on the last text, confirming that what he thought was true.

Now he had the urge to giggle.

The male didn’t know what the fuck was going on or why he felt this way towards simple texts that were meant to come off as light teasing and nothing more. All he knew was that if he kept this up, his head would swell because of all the confusion going on inside it..

jungkook: jesus nerd, how you’re still breathing surrounded by all that paper is beyond me

smh don’t get too ahead of yourself tho 😒 i like you a very small amount

and that joke is no longer valid ever since we fucked

Jungkook was still thinking about the fact that you also missed him and for that reason, he failed to catch his little note in the corner of your attached photo, for now.

His mind was just… focused on something else.

You missed him!

jungkook: that does make me feel better, god what would i do without you? 😫

but truth is… i won’t really believe it unless you go into detail, miss lee. tell me, what did you miss about me?

OH! and i know that there’s a long list so take your time

Seriously, Jeon Jungkook never took a break from feeding his ego. You sat there wondering how you managed to put up with him all these years. He had a cute face back then, for sure, but now he looked like a hot hunk of goodness and everything nice, unfortunately.

you: for starters, i missed you blowing up my phone with hundreds of texts

surprised i didn’t even get ONE annoying text from you

It was almost tradition for Jungkook to spam your phone with nonsense texts and silly pictures of himself whilst you were studying. It only became a problem when he started spamming you with tiktoks, distracting you from your studies because after you’d watch them, you’d end up scrolling on the app far longer than anticipated.

you: i guess i missed your stupid face too 🙄

and the way you’d come over and inhale all the food in my fridge

and how you’d mark your territory on my couch

i also really miss our movie nights, it was the only thing that relieved my stress 😔

and, believe it or not, i miss arguing with you

i could say so much more, but i don’t think it’s appropriate unless you wanna hear?

You paused for a second, seeing that your list had taken up the entire screen.

Damn, you really missed him, huh?

you: why did we stop talking?

you know my door is always open for you, jeon 😕

Whether it be to pester you, hang out, or fuck, Jungkook was always welcome.

you: but enough about you, stink

what did you miss about me? 🥰

It’d been eating him up inside long before this special moment, gnawing away at his core and causing Jungkook’s blush to deepen in color and expand vastly over the smooth canvas of his cheeks that were puppeted by two strings pulling hard at the apples of his cheeks whenever his heart went crazy drumming to its own, particular beat. It was a type of drumming that was so rare, he worried it was an actual heart attack at its beginning stages…

jungkook: you’re making me and my “stupid face” blush, lee 😵‍💫

But he never dropped down to the ground dead—it was worse— Jungkook was left with the continuous stinging in his chest and a conscious mind full of consuming thoughts.

Jeon Jungkook never skipped out on an opportunity to feed his massive ego, but you never missed the cue as his ‘special best friend’ to always give in and singlehandedly create an even cockier version of the man; just for the moment you were together, be it over text or in person.

Truth? Jungkook would rather hear you say these things to his face, then he’d be able to show a more genuine reaction to how they made him feel— a kiss spoke volumes, for example. He was never the best at saying things the way he wanted to say them— but on the bright side, Jungkook was glad you couldn’t see him and his flushed being.

That seemed to be his thing; go big or go home.

jungkook: that’s a hell of a long list for a girl that said she forgot about my existence 👀

sure you weren’t thinking about me everyday, pretty?

He liked to think he was in control; he enjoyed being in control, but when his skin was lit up because of a few sweet words from you, confidence didn’t come as easily and smoothly as it usually did. So, Jungkook settled for playing a front over text.

Not like you had any way of seeing him.

jungkook: but hmm, what did i miss about you? 🤔 well for starters, i like it when you let me raid your fridge and let me mark my territory on your couch ;)

how you call me “stink” or “idiot” with a smile on your face after i say something stupid because deep inside you find it endearing 👀

your random fuckin GORY murder cases that always stick with me. a man is scarred

when you’re super concentrated while studying and quietly mumble to yourself under your breath. it’s cute

you in glasses. that’s it

our movie nights, especially when you let me pick ironman for the 100th time

i also miss arguing with you and proving your ass wrong

your ass.

sleeping with you in the way that you keep me warm during the night and you rest your head on my chest. i like feeling like i’m keeping you safe

and sleeping with you in the way that i can make you feel really good, help you relieve stress. feeling closer to you is being inside you

Fuck, did he go overboard?

Jungkook was only trying to match you in terms of quality, but now looking back at all the sent messages, he couldn’t help but cringe at himself for saying all that.

He should’ve taken quality over quantity more seriously..

“Damn,” He ran a hand through his hair and quickly got back to typing so that you wouldn’t sit on the last part for too long.

jungkook: and wdym “when did we stop talking” 💀💀 y/n, it’s only been two days 🙄

im coming over tomorrow tho, can’t have you missing me anymore 😉

For a brief second, you thought you were reading texts from the boyfriend you never had. It was worse since you were going overboard with the blushing, but how could you control that? His string of texts were like… a confession.

Could he possibly be in love with you? Never.

Jeon Jungkook was incapable of feeling such things, and having said that out loud, all your hope had disintegrated. Jungkook was too clueless, he probably couldn’t even remember what you said in the shower.

you: i’m starting to think you missed me more than i missed you

You stayed giggling quietly to yourself, reading on each line one by one and feeling the butterflies in the pit of your stomach erupt. If Jungkook were here right now, he’d probably tease the hell out of you, use it as a way to boost his inflated ego.

you: my fridge has been restocked for you, so you won’t have to bring over half-eaten pizza like last time 💀

ALSO

IM ALWAYS RIGHT! you have never ever proved me wrong in your life

you argue with bs, i argue with FACTS 😌

What’s something that would make the Jeon Jungkook fold?

A selfie.

But not just any odd selfie.

It was a blessing in disguise that you had your glasses on right now. A little selfie wouldn’t hurt anyone (but deep down you wanted to gauge a reaction out of him, for your own satisfaction) so you opened your camera and angled your phone up in front of you, your eyes peeking up from behind your lenses, unknowingly pulling off the whole ‘innocent, but not-so-innocent nerd’ look paired with a small pout.

The raised view might be familiar to him.

You were satisfied with the first picture you took so you sent it through to him, with another message following right after;

you: my glasses miss your face 😔

they’re tired of looking down at textbooks all day

When did Jeon become so totally and utterly fascinated with the casual sight of your dorky frames sitting high up on your cute nose, framing your face and making you seem even smarter and a bigger nerd than you already were?

He had no fuckin’ idea.

Glasses never looked as good on anyone else than they did on you— something about how your smartness aligned with the vivid image in his head of a sexy, intelligent librarian just did it for him without any misses.

Was it a fantasy or just simp behaviour?

Whatever it was, you had the brains and the looks; Jungkook honestly thought you were extremely cool and he could only dream to be as smart and dedicated to learning as you were.

Jungkook saved the picture to his camera roll after staring at it for a few moments in silence, lured in by everything from your puckered lips to deer-like eyes as they drove him wild in a manner he was way too familiar with.

“Fuck,” Jeon tipped his head to the side to take a look at the expected erection in his sweats, the bulge pitching a big tent against the bare material of his pants since Jungkook rarely wore anything underneath whenever he was alone.

None of this was fair.

Deciding to play your game his own way, he tapped on the camera and angled it towards his growing erection after pressing record, shamelessly zooming in on his bulge whilst breathing out a low, “This isn’t fair, y’know. Rubbing one out at 12am wasn’t on my list of plans for the night.”

Jungkook sent the video without another thought and added a provocative text to go along with it, his bottom lip close to going numb from biting down on it so hard.

jungkook: instead of looking down, how bout you look up at me? i think you’ll find that more fun

This was much more than the reaction you expected from Jungkook. You expected a little “you look pretty” or a “you look like a nerd” type of text from him, one that could stem as serious or just playful teasing, but watching the short clip and being met with his inane bulge, an overwhelming sense of pride took over.

You had awoken the beast with just a mere selfie?

No physical touch, no overly suggestive text message?

You had every right to believe you were capable of more. Maybe not right now since you had the clip on loop to bask in his ragged, deep voice, which gave you the most uncalled-for flashbacks to those nights where he’d praise you for taking him so good.

You quickly saved the video (for your own pleasure) and got to typing with your sweaty thumbs and clenching thighs.

you: life isn’t fair, sorry about that

Reading his last text message, your poor self had fallen into daydream mode. All the endless possibilities of you being on your knees and staring up at the man, doing God knows what. But you knew exactly what he meant, and you were not against it…

But you could always play dumb.

you: but why would i do that, koo?

enlighten a dumb girl like myself, would you?

Jungkook was this close to giving up on the sexual bantering over text and get up from his bed, go out his front door, hop on his motorcycle and drive the short minutes to your apartment just to show you what he meant— even if it was clear enough that you were only playing games with him.

jungkook: does acting clueless help you ignore the fact that you want me rn? bc let me know how that works out for you ;)

Before Jungkook could even acknowledge it, one hand extended downwards to grope his own cock, the firm contact pressuring a deep grunt to exit past his parted mouth and into the privacy of his bedroom where the darkness failed to conceal the slight twitch of his dark brows, the screen of his phone highlighting every minor gesture on his face as a response to him touching himself. His palm smoothed over his bulge time after time again as his heavy eyes stayed set on the picture before him— your selfie, breathing becoming just as unsteady.

Needy for something else, Jungkook eagerly slipped his fingers past the waistband of his sweats and pulled out his cock in one go, coming face to face with its angry tip that oozed precum moments before bucking his hips into his fisted hand, clearer groans and deeper moans making themselves known as he messily pumped his cock within his tight, slippery grip.

“Fuu-fuck.. shit,” for the first time, he looked down at the way his latched hand moved seamlessly down his girth instead of your picture, allowing his mind to run wild and imagine his slick fist was you, the tightness making him dizzy. His hips impulsively used the mattress as drive to thrust themselves upwards and fuck into his hand, his tip coming out the top drenched in more precum after each plunge.

Deciding it’d be selfish of him to keep you in the dark whilst he got off because of you, Jungkook opened his eyes and despite the minor shakiness, angled the phone above his face and started recording.

All he allowed you to see was his slack face, moderately sweaty and flushed at the cheeks, a glint of shine peeking past his hooded eyes and kissable lips split as his ragged breathing was heard. His messy hair fell over his forehead and brows just right, clenched jaw locked in place whilst his nostrils flared, the phone in his deadly grip shaking even more now that Jeon grew restless and pumped himself even faster— his arm was aching.

Finally, the man spoke, smirking lazily at the camera. “Does a dumb girl like yourself know what’s goin’ on right now? Don’t play stupid, hnghh— doesn’t benefit anyone, baby.”

Being the tease Jungkook was known for, he flipped the camera but didn’t show his cock by covering the lens with his fingers, hovering the device close to his dick for you to be able to clearly hear the wet sounds of his built-up precum sliding up and down his lathered shaft as he went crazy pumping himself to the sticky base, his grunts playing in the background.

He was so close, but all that was left was a push from you, and so Jeon sent the video straight away, going easy on himself for the time being.

You had never clicked on a video so fast in your life, and God, did Jungkook serve. The phone had been brought even closer to your face, as if trying to hide from anyone that could see (you still needed to get used to living alone) and the moment your ears picked up on his heavy breaths and flushed state, only a child would guess wrong about what he was doing right now.

Your eyes stayed glued to Jungkook’s face, admiring the sharp slate along his jaw and his parted lips, imagining just how soft they would be if you had the chance to kiss him again.

The ongoing ache between your legs remained steady (with a lot of self control) but you were crumbling by the second.

“Fuck’s sake,” you curse under your breath, forming a tight line with your lips as you watched on, suddenly having little time to process that his face was no longer in the frame. The video was still going on and you sat there with your knees up to your chest, putting the volume up to the max to hear just how sinful and erotic his actions were playing out to be.

So much for self control, you failed to keep your body temperature at a norm along with your blushing cheeks (which felt like they were on literal fire) hearing such dirty sounds.

You could make out the image in your head; Jeon sprawled out on his bed, sweating with one muscular arm between his legs and his cock vigorously pumping between his fist.

It should’ve been your fist getting him off, but the circumstances deemed that to be difficult.

Was it possible to want to suck someone off more than just sit down and study?

you: fuck you, jeon

The throbbing between your legs was beginning to grow unbearable, so you did what you were best at.

Repaying him in the most unexpected way possible.

With your phone clutched in your hand and legs brought down to dangle off your seat, you opened up your camera, switching to video and hugging the phone close to your chest, with the lens facing up towards your chin. You made sure the lower half of your face came into view before pressing record.

You didn’t say a word; simply letting your actions speak for themselves as you slipped your middle and ring finger past your plump lips and letting your tongue rest flat along the base, trying to slick them up a little before wrapping your lips around your digits completely.

This was totally out of character for you, but Jungkook wasn’t making it easy. The thought of him shoving his fingers down your throat edged you to push your own digits a little farther and then pulling back in a constant motion. Each time your fingers would come into view again, they’d be ten times more soaked than before, and just to spite the man, you would zoom in on your glistening digits and force him to watch on, slowing down the pace of your fingers so he could really cherish the sight of your fingers disappearing past your lips.

“Bet you wish that was you, huh?” you whisper softly, pulling your fingers out ever-so-slowly and then adjusting the angle of your phone, pulling it away to give him a view of the oversized shirt you were wearing which he left a couple nights ago.

You set your phone down to lean on the pile of textbooks on your desk, wasting no time in setting the heels of your feet on the edge of your seat and lifting the hem of his shirt over your stomach to reveal the lack of attire underneath.

Just a pair of simple lilac coloured underwear.

You gave the camera one last look before following Jungkook’s train of movement, slipping your glistening digits past the band of your panties, and as much as you wanted to touch yourself right now, you paused.

You weren’t giving in that easily, so you reached over for her phone with a teasing grin on your face, making sure only your face was in the shot before your fingers lightly feathered across your untouched core, eyes fluttering shut and back now resting slack against the chair.

“Koo..” Shit, you’d barely done anything.. It took you a moment to regain your composure and you stopped the video, free hand still sat between your legs and digits seamlessly running up and down your slit as you rushed to send him the video.

That should do it.

And that fucking did.

He should've known, he should’ve known that you would one-up him at his own playing field because— when did you not constantly surprise him with whatever skills you kept in your pockets, only choosing to show them off at the right time?

Your head game? Fucking awesome. Handjob? He swore he saw a goddamn angel last time. The best pancakes in the world? Only at your place.

Everything you did was irresistible and for someone like Jungkook, nothing in the world beat not ever knowing what to expect, that was partly why he slept around a lot. But you… you were a total freak.

Which is why Jeon should’ve busted right then and there after watching the video all the way through, he almost did, but instead of shooting his cum into the air, now he was angry at himself for even tempting such a mouthwatering, captivating response out of you while being stuck where he was. Not being able to actually do anything about it, he groaned to himself and wished it was his fingers that dipped past the warmth of your mouth, collecting your saliva to use as a lube to relentlessly finger you until your legs shook..

“Fuckin’ shit..!” Jeon threw his head back whilst his wrist flicked around the base of his cock, dragging his palm upwards to do the same to his red tip. Once those long drags began to lose their heavy momentum, that was when he used his other hand to text you back, his lower stomach muscles flexing as a sign that Jeon was extremely close.

jungkook: dirty girl getting her fingers dirty for me

looking so pretty in my shirt too? fuck you’re so good, wanna fuck you

gonna come a shit ton bc of that video. sucks it won’t be inside that pussy fuuck

Throwing his phone aside for the time being, Jungkook focused on getting himself off with the image of you fresh in his mind, his buff arm cramping up but he persisted nonetheless, abusing his twitching cock with all his strength until long ropes of white erupted from his tip and onto his sweats, his hand, his stomach, the sheets—his fucking foot?

“A-ahh..hmpph-hmm.. ah.. ah, fuck,” just when he thought he was done, his cock twitched and added on to the pool of creamy white on his sweatpants, “Shit..”

The man took the messy opportunity to snap a quick photo of the mess that was his stomach and sheets, ensuring his dick was in the frame this time before sending it to you with a cheeky—

jungkook: this could’ve been all yours baby

You continued your miscreants against your aching cunt, sliding your middle finger in completely and exhaling softly at the familiar feeling. Many of your nights were spent alone, mindlessly fucking yourself for relief (though it barely helped since you could never finish alone) but now masturbating seemed so… out of the ordinary.

You never felt the need to touch yourself since you and Jungkook started whatever this whole situation was. In all honesty, you were ashamed to admit you could no longer please yourself without your best friend by your side, whether it be him guiding you with words, or straight up doing the job for you. It sounded wrong on so many levels, but you couldn’t help what your body yearned for.

The thought only frustrated you since you were alone and nowhere near close to relief, but you continued to tease and toy with yourself, occasionally pinching your sensitive bud and then breaking out into short, fast-paced rubs where your fingers would slip past your entrance and knock the air out of her lungs.

Jungkook’s texts were coming through one by one, and each one forced you to pick up the pace of your wrists, now thrusting your fingers between your soft walls at a vigorous pace. Oh, the things you would do for him to leave a hot mess inside of you.. it was pissing you off and it was obvious you were taking out your frustrations on yourself.

If his texts weren’t enough to drive you insane, the picture he attached with the blatant mess of white surrounding him and knowing it was all your doing, sparked a different kind of light within you.

you: fuck you for being at home right now

you: i can’t do this

To be more clear, you snapped a quick video of yourself, camera facing down in front of you to give Jungkook the perfect view of your slick coated digits fucking into you, paired with your shallow breaths and your signature whines, “Should’ve been you, Koo.. you know I can’t do this on my own.” Your voice was unsteady as you spoke, and you were close to breaking down horny and unsatisfied, but you kept yourself together.

No matter how embarrassing it was, you still sent him the video, typing away at your screen with your free hand and pulling the other out from between your legs with a huff.

you: im holding myself back to come on your cock next time

and i’ll make sure none of it goes to waste

Sexting with you at the asscrack of night wasn’t exactly on Jungkook’s to-do list, but just as a wise woman once texted— plans inevitably change and hell if he wasn’t content with the turnout. Not to mention it served as closure that he wasn’t being shut out on purpose and a quick release all in one, although the new texts and dirty video of a quick peek inside her panties made him question if it was worth the extra cramping in his hand and even messier sheets..

The man grimaced slightly at the warm stickiness on his stomach and fingers; he’ll jerk off to that one another day.

Truth be told, Jeon was extremely exhausted and he had a real reason to be… now. Before he had the balls to hit you up and resume where you left off, all the latter did while his roommate was gone was play video games, sulk about why why you weren’t taking initiative and worrying that Tae had gotten ran over by a car, and then another— and another.

Like always, you were the highlight of his night and day plus every moment in between.

jungkook: “fuck me” for being at home rn?? ha you wish 😗🥴

and sure you’ll wait for me baby, you’re my good girl

just know i’m coming over tomorrow and picking up where we left off. missed u too much i doubt id be able to keep my hands to myself 🤤

Jeon didn’t realize he was grinning— the kind of grinning that formed those crinkles around his eyes— until he caught sight of his reflection through the screen, simultaneously noticing how tired his smiling eyes looked and, in a very adult way, he took that as a sign to call it a night. There was always tomorrow, and there will be a tomorrow.

A very eventful one— he’ll make sure of it.

A loud yawn easily slipped past his agape mouth and Jungkook used his clean hand to start typing again, doe eyes blinking repeatedly to try and stay awake just so he could send you a goodnight text and manage to at least change out of his clothes.

jungkook: i’m heading to bed now, no workout ever tires me out like you do 💪

night, hope my shirt keeps you warm 😏

you: night, jeon

try not to dream about me tonight 😴

And just like that, Jungkook set his phone aside and sighed to himself after standing up and taking a closer look at the mess he’d made— was that amount of cum… healthy?

You were honestly messing with his head but.. Jungkook kind of liked it.

You got out of your seat and went straight to the bathroom, leaving your phone behind to wash up.

What an eventful night.

Jungkook’s ‘i’m coming over tomorrow and picking up where we left off’ stayed lingering in your mind as you thoroughly washed your hands. You were finally going to see Jungkook after 2 days (felt like a month) and you didn’t know how you’d react the moment you open the door for him.

Would you jump him because you missed him so much? Slap him because he didn’t bother to talk to you these last two days? Kiss him without thinking because you missed his lips?

Fuck, you really wanted to kiss him.

Maybe you would just stand there and let the man welcome himself in since he had a lot of experience doing that anyway the last couple years.

Either way, you were completely and utterly fucked for caring so much.

Whatever though, Jungkook was still clueless and that was something you could dwell on another time, but for now, you felt like you needed 6 months worth of sleep for the 9857265 hours you spent studying to keep your mind off Jungkook.

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psithurista · 11 months

Text

approach shift pt. nine

pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader (TASM/Andrew Garfield version) length: 4.3k rating: explicit 18+ warnings: Mentions of death, fingering, a quick wristy (lol)

Peter Parker is a weirdo. A hot, distracting, irritating weirdo. And you can’t afford distractions right now. So there’s only one thing to do.

a/n: Last full chapter but there will be an epilogue in the not-too-distant; I'll probably have more notes then. Thank you x

series masterlist

The back of your head is torturously itchy.

You try surreptitiously to press your knuckles to the spot, just to relieve the worst of it. The nurse sitting closest to you glances up at you from over the top of her monitor and guiltily, you clasp your hands back down into your lap.

It smells sour in here, like soft plums left to rot. Whichever industrial cleaner it is this hospital uses, it’s definitely not one anybody’s trying to market for domestic use. It’s probably cheap as fuck, you contemplate, your hand drifting back up towards your head.

“You can go in now,” a new nurse says beside you. You jerk your hand away. “He’s awake. I let him know you’ve been waiting.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, unpeeling yourself from the plastic waiting room chair. “I won’t be very long. I just wanted to say hi.”

She gives you a mild, distracted okay-that’s-nice-whatever smile and disappears. You push open the door to the room she’d just exited and duck inside.

It smells far better in here. There’s a vase of opening lilies leaving red pollen-stains on the table in front of the window, and the lavender-powder smell of clean sheets. Doctor Brant is propped up in the bed, frowning hard at the tablet in his hands.

“I hope you aren’t working while you’re meant to be resting,” you say.

He tilts his head down to peer at you over his glasses. “Oh, no. It’s just sudoku. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Doctor. How are you?”

He nods, and sets the tablet aside. “Well, they’ve finally taken me off the oxygen so I expect I’ll be allowed to leave soon. All things considered, a little smoke inhalation injury at my…advanced age could’ve been far worse.” His eyes glint a little bit. “Were you injured?”

You shake your head. “A concussion, but I’m fine. The. He. Um. You know. He got me out, before he went back for you.”

“You shouldn’t have stayed to look for me.”

You sit gingerly on the very edge of the chair next to the bed. “I thought. I didn’t think he’d made it to you in time. I thought you were both.” Your voice starts to sound weird, so you stop talking.

He folds his hands together over his chest. “It’s strange. I remember the first time I saw him. I didn’t understand what was happening. I thought it must have been a stunt, or an advertisement for something. Silly, really. And yet he’s saved Oscorp from itself more times than it deserved. After Connors and Dillon and that whole terrible disaster with young Harry. It’s too much. There’s no reason for anybody to endanger themselves in that place ever again.” He takes his glasses off and sets them beside the bed. “Which is why I’ve resigned.”

You stare at him. “You. What?”

He smiles at you; the expression a little indulgent. “All those years of work, gone. And for nothing. I’m sure you’ve already heard what happened?”

You have. It’s been all over the news the entire week. First the speculation: was it an attack? Was it political? Was it another disgruntled ex-employee? A competitor? And then, later, the worse, more boring truth: regular old corporate negligence. An undertrained technician who’d tried to prematurely purge a vac test chamber with concentrated oxygen. An alarm system two years overdue for maintenance. And floor upon floor of laboratories filled with dangerous substances, improperly stored.  

Nobody else in your department was seriously hurt. But others weren’t so lucky.

“When I started with Norm, it was all about changing the world for the better. And in the end, we’ve helped nobody.” He shakes his head. “If you’ll forgive my language…Fuck Oscorp. I’m ready to start over.”

You grin at him, even though it feels a little watery. “I’m…really happy for you.” And you are. In the brief time you’ve worked under him, his passion has been obvious, but he’s always seemed so bogged down by the minutiae of red tape; appeasing a board of investors with no interest in the importance of his life’s work beyond its potential profitability.

But it also makes your already-uncertain future with the company even foggier. You’ll need to find someone else willing to offer you a similar graduate position, and you already know you won’t find anything else quite as specialised as the work he’s been doing.

He takes a sip from the glass of water beside his bed, then sits back with a sigh. “Publicly-funded research is a far less glamorous world than that of private enterprise. We’ll be relying primarily on grant funding and academic support. There won’t be any glass fountains or vertical gardens, I’m afraid.”

You nod sympathetically. “I can imagine. It’ll be a big change.” His eyebrows draw together at you. “I would understand if your answer is no.”

You blink. “My answer?” you say, like a genius.

“If so, I would, of course, write you a glowing recommendation. And I have plenty of contacts I could put you in touch with, if you’d prefer that.”

Holy shit. Is he…? “Hold on. Are you offering me a position with you?”

“Well, yes.”

He grunts as you dart in and hug him. “Oh! Yes! I mean, of course! I would love to. Thank you so much. You won’t regret this.”

“Uh.”

You lean back as he smooths his blankets down. “Sorry,” you say, a little sheepish. “That was unprofessional.”

He tries to look stern, but it’s unconvincing. “Well, yes,” he says again. “But I’ll choose to ignore it just this once.”

You stop by to see Bear on your way home. The roller doors in the alley beside the grimy little theatre are propped open so you can see all the half-painted set pieces inside, and there’s a bunch of people dressed all in black gathered around smoking.

“Are you gonna be home tonight?” you ask, watching her inhale the deli sandwich you’d brought after correctly guessing she hadn’t stopped rehearsing long enough for lunch.

“I can be if you want,” she says, her mouth full of half-chewed food. “But I was kind of planning on staying at a friend’s.”

You press your knuckles absently against the back of your head and leer at her. “Would this friend happen to be the same person who wanted you to move in after one salad date?”

“If you don’t stop scratching your stitches I’m calling the hospital and narcing to your doctor. And yes.”

You make a face. “I’m not even touching them!”

She stuffs the rest of the sandwich in her mouth and wipes her hands on her jeans. “I’m seriously cool not to go, though. It’s totally fine.”

She’s barely left you alone since you got back from the emergency room, even setting alarms and checking up on you throughout the first couple of nights. You know for a fact she’s had to cancel other plans for you—again. You shake your head. “No, go. I kind of want some alone time anyway.”

It’s another cold, bright afternoon. You walk into the feet of your shadow and spread your fingers beside your body as your arms move, watching them elongating out on the pavement in front of you, lost in thought. You’ve been lost in thought a lot, lately.

You’re just past the end of your block when you catch sight of the figure sitting on the stairs outside your building. Long legs in faded jeans are stretched out and crossed over at the ankles, and there’s duct tape around the toe of one sneaker. You slow to a halt on the sidewalk. A woman behind you huffs with irritation, veering around you, a giant paper grocery bag clutched in her arms.

He looks up from his cracked phone screen as you draw level with your door. His hair is as chaotic as ever, stuck up in every direction, except for at the nape of his neck, where it curls gently around in little flicks. He looks tired. He’s always looked tired, the whole time you’ve known him, but you notice it differently now. Like the holes in his jeans, and the bruise on his jaw, and the angry-sore-looking blisters on his knuckles.

He smiles a little, jerking you out of your silent staring. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t wanna just show up unannounced. I’ve been trying to call, but,” he holds his phone up, and you shake your head.

“My phone was—”

“Yeah, I figured.”

The wind lifts the edge of your scarf and shivers under the neck of your coat. There’s something sweet in the air; like cinnamon sugar, maybe someone baking from one of the open windows overhead. “Do you want to come inside?”

His expression is soft as he considers you, looking up through his lashes. “Okay.”

Neither of you speak on the trip upstairs. Your hand accidentally brushes his as you reach out for the elevator buttons, and you both pull away, as awkward and over-polite as strangers.

He stands a respectful distance back as you open your door, and you lead him inside, waving your hand vaguely toward the sofa. “Do you want a drink?”

He folds himself into the seat nearest the window, hunching over and shoving his hands between his knees. A cold drift of sun touches his jaw. “Um, no thanks, it’s cool.”

You sit down beside him, folding your hands across your lap like you’re about to get a class picture taken.

He chews his lip, runs his thumbs over his burned hands. Outside, a car horn beeps. “It’s not because I didn’t trust you,” he starts. “If you’re wondering. I don’t want you thinking that’s the reason.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You don’t need to explain.”

“I just want you to know—”

“I know.” You try to smile at him, and it feels a little watery. “I get it. I know why you couldn’t tell me.”

His brows bend together just enough to mark out a pained line. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Really. Don’t be.”

It falls silent in your living room. The little clay pinch pot in the centre of the coffee table Bear had brought home from the artists’ market watches you both watching one another; soft-skinned and tender as nervous newborn things.

“You might die doing this,” you finally point out. “One day. All those times you’ve been hurt. You might…not come home.”

He nods at the floor. “Which is why I couldn’t really ask you to, you know. Waste your time with—” he waves his hands vaguely back and forth between your bodies. “It’s not worth it. And, like, trust me, I would never, ever want to drag you into any of the shit I’m involved with. I didn’t mean to fuck you around so long, knowing you wouldn’t...” He looks back at you, his dark eyes soft. “It was just. The happiest I’ve been in a really long time. I couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry. It was shitty of me. Selfish.”

You stare at him for a few seconds in stunned disbelief. Then you laugh. You don’t mean to, and his head jerks back, startled. “Are you serious?” you manage.

His eyes are huge. “Uh. Yeah?”

You laugh again. It sounds a little manic. “You’re unbelievable.”

He flushes. “Could you maybe quit laughing at me when I’m trying to—”

“Peter. You saved my fucking life. Twice. Even after I was a total asshole to you. You saved me.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, look, I don’t want you to feel weird about that. Like, it’s totally, one-hundred-percent not a big deal and I never want anybody to feel like—”

“You help people. Strangers. Every day. For nothing. And they aren’t even grateful. The things people write about you.” He hasn’t moved, and you realise you’re talking louder than you need to, considering he’s right in front of you. “You’re the least selfish person I’ve ever met,” you tell him, emphatic, needing him to get it. “You’re a good person, Peter. I’m so sorry I didn’t see that before.” Your voice breaks a little and it’s embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as the fact that your vision has gone blurry and your cheeks feel suddenly too hot.

You stop and breathe for a few moments, willing yourself not to cry. He doesn’t say anything, just studies the edge of the rug as though he’s pretending not to notice, and you’re grateful.

Then, quietly, he takes a breath. “I was going to tell you. Before the fire. I saw May, and she told me she saw you, and that you’d talked, and. I wanted to explain everything.”

You remember the way May had looked that day in the park; her small, sad mouth, and the way she’d spoken slowly like she was choosing each word carefully. “Does she know?”

Peter half-shrugs. “We’ve never talked about it. But, like, I know she knows. And she knows I know she does.” He gives you a little smile. “It’s easier if we both keep pretending we don’t, though.”

“Does anyone else?”

His smile turns tight. “I guess not. Not really.”

“So you’ve been doing this all on your own? The whole time? How?”

He runs his hand back through his hair. “Yeah. Well, I guess I’m pretty good with DIY now, you know? I wasn’t always. I had to learn. Shit went wrong a lot in the beginning. Shit still goes wrong a lot.”

You lean in a little, curling into the cushions. “What’s the hardest part?”

You’re expecting him to say the fear of discovery, or the isolation, or the sheer physical exhaustion. But he wrinkles his nose. “God. The sewing. It’s so hard. And it’s constant. I swear I pop a different seam every day.” His face goes blank for a moment and he looks at you as though a brand new thought has just occurred to him for the first time. “It’s actually really nice. Getting to talk about this.”

“Am I allowed to ask about the outfit?”

He slaps his hands over his face. “You are absolutely fucking not allowed to ask about the outfit.”

Your mouth drops open in outrage. “I wasn’t gonna laugh! I just want to know why—”

“Look, I was going for, like, a velodrome thing. Like for speed and better flexibility and less wind-resistance and then like, anonymity as well, obviously, and originally—”

“What about the, uh, pattern?”

“Yeah, okay, okay, it seemed cool at the time! I was fifteen!”

The thought of Peter as a child, alone, in danger, no doubt even ganglier and nerdier than he is now, sends a fresh pang of sadness through you. You try not to let it show. “Do you eat the webs?”

He stares like you’ve just asked if he’d like to swap heads with you. “What?”

“Certain types of spiders go back and eat their webs after they’re done with them. Like, to replenish the protein they expended making them. Do you ever eat yours?”

The expression on his face is the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. “Uh, no. It’s inorganic. Like, it’s a, like essentially a nylon polymer composite. It’s not edible. I mean, I’ve never tried, but it’s designed to dissolve after a few hours, so I guess if you did really want to eat it, it wouldn’t hurt you…” He trails off, sheepish, looking at you sideways. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Yeah,” you say, unable to stifle your smile any longer.

He grins and ducks his head. He hasn’t shaved today, you note; there’s a little bit of stubble along his jawline.

Your chest hurts. Seeing him, being close to him, just like before. It pulls open the ache of missing him, turning it from a bruise into a wound. You know you shouldn’t. You tell yourself not to. But you do it anyway.

“I miss you.” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper.

He looks so fucking sad. His eyes are huge and pained and so close, and then they dart down to your lips, and you see it; the precise split-second the urge hits him, then the one after as he fights it, and your heart sinks and you’re about to lean back but then his mouth is on yours and it’s soft and it’s warm and unbearably gentle as his hands sweep up to the base of your neck.  It’s not the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You’re twisted uncomfortably to face him. Your hands lay shocked in your lap, and you’re pretty sure he can hear you attempting not to sniffle too much with your breathing, and you’re so busy worrying about it that you forget to open up to him; his tongue touching the edge of your lips. His fingertips brush the stitches at the back of your head and you flinch, pulling away.  “Oh, shit, sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, visibly mortified.   “It’s okay,” you say. “Didn’t hurt. It’s just sensitive.”

“For kissing you,” he clarifies. “I know we’re not, like…you know. Anymore.”

That hurts. You shake your head. “We could be. We could try.”

“I can’t ask you—"

“No. Don’t do that. What do you want?”

He exhales through his nose and a tiny, pained sound escapes with it. “It’s not that easy—“

“It is. It is that easy. What do you want?”

“You have no idea,” he says, suddenly. “God. You have no fucking idea how bad I want you. I want this. You’re the only thing I. Fuck.” He knuckles at his eyes, frustrated. “You just have no idea how bad this could go.”

“I do,” you tell him, gently. “I know exactly how bad it could go. And I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry that happened. It’s so, so fucked up that that happened and I’m so sorry, and I know nothing I can say will ever make any of it any less fucked up, but fucked up things happen. They happen all the time for normal people, too. And fucked up things are going to keep happening and it’s inevitable and it’s part of being alive and that’s why we just need to take that risk every day, and choose to—to try to just be happy in as many stupid fucking hopeless ways as we can anyway, because we deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

He’s staring at you like he wants to believe you. Like he wants to cry. “You need to know,” he says, reaching his hand out, pulling it back. “I can’t promise you this’ll be okay. If you still wanted…I would try. I would try so, so hard for you. Harder than I’ve ever tried at anything. But I—I still just have no way of knowing that it’ll be okay.“

You smile at him, shaky and sure. “That’s any relationship, Parker.”

This time when he kisses you, you’re ready. Your mouth opens eagerly under his, catching the faint metal-salt of his skin, the dryness where his lips are ever-so-slightly windburnt.

All the breath leaves your body in a rush. You shove your hands up through his hair, lifting up onto your knees and sliding across his lap until you’re straddling him on the couch.

He tilts his head back to work his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands sliding up underneath your shirt to find the edges of your bra, and it’s awkward and clumsy and you’re both breathing hard by the time he manages to get your jeans unzipped and his hand cramped into your underwear.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, half-dizzy from kissing without pause. You almost bite him when his fingers find your clit. “Can you—yeah, like that, oh, my God—"

“Hold on, it’d be better if, let me…” he murmurs, frustrated, and you let out what could only be described as a yelp as he lifts your entire weight up to easily shove your jeans and underwear the rest of the way off your legs before settling you back down over his lap.

You’re stuck between trying to grind down against the front of his jeans and trying to give him enough space to work his hand back between your legs, ultimately deciding on the latter as he finds your clit again, this time his attentions unhampered by clothing.

His body hasn’t forgotten yours. It only takes a few moments of searching before he has you melting into the palm of his hand; your bones soft and hot inside you as you roll your eyes closed. It’s easy with him, just like before, but better.

You’re almost close when he eases two fingers inside you, and that’s easy too, so easy, the way you give for him. Your forehead rests against his as your lips come apart; too focused for kissing anymore.

“I missed you,” he breathes, working his wrist. “God, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You flex your thighs as you rock with the movement of his hand, and that’s when you need to touch him, urgently. It takes a little repositioning before you manage to open his jeans and ease his cock out, wrapping your fingers loosely around him.

You feel him tense and shudder as you stroke him, too slow to really get him anywhere, too lost in the way his long, firm fingers curl inside you.

He noses along your jaw, mouthing lazily at your damp skin, his eyes closed, and then he’s there, right where you need him, and you’re clenching and biting down on the sounds trying to escape as you come apart sudden and hard around him.

You’re still loose-limbed and shaky when he pulls his slick fingers free, gently moving your hand out of the way to grasp himself instead. You feel a little guilty; you’d almost forgotten about him straining in front of you, but he doesn’t seem to care as he jerks himself quick and short in his fist. His other hand cups the swell of your ass as he huffs hot breath into your hair, your neck, coming sudden across the inside of your thigh.

You slump your weight against him.

Neither of you speak for a while. Your hand is curled between your bodies, trapped where it’s warm and you can feel his heart slowing in his chest. He runs his hand absently from your hip to your thigh, then back again.

“Peter,” you murmur.

“Mmm.”

“You do need to promise me one thing, though.”

He moves, just enough that he can look up at you. His cheeks are flushed. “What?”

“We can never. And I mean never. Tell Bear we fucked on her couch.”

His eyes widen in horror. “Oh, my God. She already hates me.”

“I know. But it’s okay, because we’re not gonna tell her.”

“I just don’t know if I can keep that secret; I’m not good at subterfuge, y’know, I’m just not that kinda guy—"

“Yeah, yeah, okay—"

“—and you should see me under pressure; I fold like origami—"

You kiss him again, just to shut him up, and feel his lips curling up against yours.

Your thighs feel sticky and gross, and you’re starting to get cold, and when you get up you nearly fall over from the cramp in your leg from sitting so awkwardly, but you’re too happy to care in the slightest.

You stand together in the bathroom, cleaning each other up. Every time his eyes meet yours in the mirror you both smile again, giggling and getting in each other’s way, like idiots.

It takes twice as long as it should to get back out to the couch, and you’re hoping he’ll curl up with you again but then you catch him glancing toward the window. “You need to go,” you say. It’s not really a question.

He hedges. “I kind of do, but…”

You offer him a little smile. “It’s okay. Go.”

He nods. You walk him to the door, where he pauses. He chews at his thumbnail, looking at you sideways again from under his eyelashes.

You watch him for a few seconds, waiting. “What?” you finally say.

He presses his lips together, runs his hand through his hair. “So. It’s probably, like, kind of weird. To ask. At this…uh, juncture.”

He’s nervous, you realise. It’s excruciatingly endearing. You nudge him. “I feel like weird’s kind of our thing.”

He grins. “Yeah. I guess. So. I was gonna ask if you’d like to go out. For dinner. Friday night.”

There’s absolutely no way to prevent the smile slowly pulling at your mouth. “Peter. Are you asking me on a date?”

He laughs, a little self-conscious huff. “Uh, yeah. Like. I mean, I wanted to way sooner. But. I guess I wanna try doing things properly this time. If you want.”

You can think of a thousand different things to say, but most of them are embarrassing, so you settle for keeping it simple. “Yes. Fuck yes. Obviously.”

He blinks. “Oh, okay, awesome, holy shit. Okay. Should we…? I don’t have your new number.”

“Oh, yeah, I need to get yours again too.” You pull your phone out and make a new contact before handing it to him.

He stares at your screen for a second, then he snorts. “You have me in your phone as ‘p.p.’?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Why? What do you have me as?”

He laughs again, quiet, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He hands your phone back. He takes a few steps out the door, then he sticks his hands in his pockets. “So. I’ll see you?”

“You will,” you tell him, watching the way his jaw juts crookedly when he smiles.

He’s halfway to the elevator, walking backwards, his hands still in his pockets when he calls back to you. “Friday, Miss Jersey.”

You laugh. “Quit disturbing my neighbours.”

You stay there long after he’s gone, leaning against your doorframe, smiling to yourself, aching with stupid, giddy affection.

#peter parker x f!reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x f!reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #tasm fanfic #tasm fanfiction #tasm imagine #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter fanfiction

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cobiehill · 2 years

Text

Can We Always Be This Close?

(read part two here)

pairing: wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader

w/c: 1192

summary: reader can’t sleep so wanda invites her to join movie night with her girlfriend natasha (soft!!!)

masterlist

You rolled onto your side for the millionth time that night, squinting as you checked the time on your phone.

2am

It wasn’t horrifically late for you, however you’d been having trouble sleeping the past week and you wanted nothing more than to shut off your brain and get some well overdue rest.

Finally accepting defeat, you hauled your body out of bed with a sigh and made your way into the compound kitchen to refill your glass of water

As you stepped out into the corridor, you noticed a low buzz coming from the room opposite your own. Wanda’s room. You figured she was probably sat watching some old romcom with her girlfriend Natasha and had lost track of the time - that wasn’t unusual for them.

You shuffled past the door quietly, not wanting to disrupt them, and headed downstairs.

Making your way towards the sink, you flipped the tap and hummed under your breath. You wondered what film the girls had been watching.

“Bridget Jones, actually” a voice startled you. “It’s one of my favourites. Natasha pretends to hate it but I think she’s secretly super invested”.

You’d flinched at the sound of Wanda, and in reaction, the glass had dropped from your hand and into the sink, splashing your shirt with water.

“Jesus Christ Wanda, did you have to sneak up on me like that?”

Wanda laughed, making her way over to where you were standing.

“Sorry” she apologised, but from the look on her face you knew she definitely wasn’t. “Your thoughts were super loud, I assumed you were just asking me directly.”

“Well I wasn’t” you reply with a huff, taking a paper towel to wipe at the wet counter.

“Someone’s grumpy” she added with a smirk “Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that.”

The look of amusement on her face quickly turned to concern.

“I’m making tea for Nat and I if you’d like some? You could always sit in on the movie too?”

You paused, taken aback by the idea of spending time with the couple. You got along with both of them fairly well, however they tended to keep to themselves and you weren’t sure how you felt about gatecrashing their time together. It also didn’t help that you found both women painfully attractive either.

“I wouldn’t wanna interrupt” you rejected politely, but Wanda was firm, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You wouldn’t be interrupting.” she says, her face sincere.

You didn’t get a chance to accept the offer of tea either, as she used her powers to whisk a third mug from the shelf above.

“If you insist” you respond eventually.

“I do.”

The walk back upstairs together is silent, and you wait a couple of paces behind Wanda as she opens the door to her room.

You’re shocked by the sight that greets you - Natasha curled up on the corner of the bed, her hair pulled back into a loose braid with her eyes glued to the screen. You were used to seeing her in avenger mode, constantly on alert with a no business attitude, but here she looked so warm and inviting. You took in the sight of her before snapping back to focus when she turned to look at you.

“Hey Y/N, you joining us?” she asks, with a hopeful smile.

“She is” Wanda answers for you, setting the tea down on the nightstand before placing her hand on the small of your back and guiding you towards the bed.

Natasha shuffles over to make you a space, sharing a proud glance with Wanda, which you’re too distracted to notice.

“Don’t be shy” Natasha urges “We’ve got plenty of room”

You settle yourself cross legged next to her, and Wanda is quick to follow, sitting a lot closer than you’d expected.

“You guys just missed the best part” Nat mumbles, and Wanda lets out a small chuckle.

“I’ve seen it a thousand times.” She says, turning to you with a smirk “I told you Tasha was invested”.

You can’t help but smile at the nickname Wanda uses for her girlfriend, feeling as though you’d been let in on one of their secrets. It felt special.

“I’m not invested ” she groans “I can’t help it if you abandoned me during a vital part of the movie, asshole.”

“I’m not an asshole!” Wanda protests

Natasha turns to you.

“Y/N, is Wanda an asshole?”

You blush, suddenly aware of your position between the both of them.

“I’m not a part of this” You add quickly. Wanda shoves you.

“You are now.” She adds with a smirk, wrapping an arm around you and settling her head on your shoulder. You notice Natasha scoot closer to you on the other side.

“Seriously? You bring Y/N along to our movie night and now you’re gonna hog her?”

Wanda scoffs as her girlfriend reaches out her arms towards you, and you giggle before leaning in towards her, enjoying being the centre of both of their attention.

Despite being startled by how clingy Natasha could be, you found yourself pleasantly content lying besides the pair. You’d had a small crush on them both for a while now, which wasn’t helped by the way that Wanda had now draped her arm around your waist. While your eyes focused on the movie, your brain had started to wonder, and you lost yourself in a daydreaming of being a part of their relationship, even though you knew that could never be possible.

You’d finally started to get sleepy, curled up in the arms of the two women you admired the most. You fought yourself as you felt your eyes getting droopier. Wanda spotted this and a soft smile grew on her face. By now you had sunk further into the bed, your head lay on Natasha’s chest with Wanda’s arms circled around you from behind.

“It’s okay if you want to sleep, Y/N” she whispered, bringing a hand up to your hair.

“Not sleeping” you mumble “I’m invested, just like Natasha.”

You hear a small laugh from both the women, and you smile to yourself with pride, eyes falling shut again as Wanda’s fingers stroke through your hair.

It isn’t long before you lose yourself in her touch, your body willing you to sleep at last while the pair continue to watch, making small comments to each other every so often.

Noticing your silence, Natasha looks down to where you’re lying, sighing softly when she sees the rise and fall of your chest.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Nat whispers, tracing her finger over your cheek.

Wanda nods, her attention moving away from the movie and onto you.

“You reckon we can keep her around?” Natasha continues.

“Why don’t we ask her?” Wanda whispers “In the morning.”

“In the morning” Natasha agrees, her voice laced with tiredness as she leans over your sleeping frame to catch her girlfriend’s lips with her own.

It doesn’t take long for the couple to fall asleep themselves, their limbs tangled with yours beneath the covers. They couldn’t wait to wake up beside you the following morning, with the hopes of making you theirs.

(part two)

#wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maxmimoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff x reader #soft wandanat hours !!!!

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spacecowboyhotch · 1 year

Text

summary: never wanted love, just a fancy car.

pairing: cowgirl!reader x cowboy!din

contents: 18+/nsfw/smut, cowboy au, typical Wild West violence & values (murder, stealing), flirting, pining, perceived unrequited feelings, yearning (if you squint)

wc: 4k

an: part two comin at yaaaaa. these two are so special to me. reader does have a code name in this that she uses, so if your name is scarlet sorry in advance!

series masterlist | writing masterlist

ch 1: takes one to know one

You don’t discuss the logistics or practicality of sticking together, you just do it. After meandering in Strawberry a few days longer to garner more money and supplies the two of you head southeast.

Din has a tent. You’ve gotten used to traveling as light as possible and staying in structures that already exist so as not to draw attention to yourself. But you already feel safer traveling with him. You feel yourself loosening up in the wake of his companionship and competency. And in that, you find a discomfort you’re not ready to unpack.

The town you end up in after dabbling in Strawberry– Cheyenne– is the closest thing you’ve seen to a true city. There are talks and whispers of New York and all the structure and opportunity it brings. Bustling with thousands of folk, buggies, art, and theater. Not to mention proper plumbing. But, settling down isn’t an option right now– or ever—you quickly remind yourself, as not to get your hopes up for something that doesn’t exist. Besides, you’re not sure you could ever imagine yourself working a steady job. Staying put in one place sounds so…stagnant.

Cheyenne is markets in back alleys, crowded streets, and a view of the sea. You’re grateful for the cool, salty air of the coast during this hellish summer. But the city has its cons: mixed in with the salty air is the stench of pollution that comes with such a populated place. Its lawman force— ever present and large— works to you and Din’s disadvantage. The work you do is harder in a place like this but the spoils will last you ten times over than in places like Strawberry or Annesburg.

You and Din have taken a room at an inn close to the edge of the city. You’ve just returned from a bath down the hall, one that was well overdue. Din’s already dressed in sleeping clothes, his hair wet and slicked back from his own bath. For just a moment you wonder what his hair feels lik. If it's as soft or thick as it looks. Whatever spell that is breaks when he closes his eyes as you enter in just a towel, turning over in the bed.

There’s nothing there for him, not that you can pick up. It shouldn’t matter, there’s nothing there for you either. He’s your partner, life has been so much better with him at your side already. It runs smoother, it feels safer. The fuzzy, unfocused picture that you were living in sharpened. Why would either of you even think to jeopardize something that works so well with the simple thought of more? You won’t.

“There’s a big wig in this city. Robert Leroy— folks call him Bobby,” You say to distract yourself from the sinking feeling in your stomach.

“What’s he got to do with anythin’? We’ve got our targets.”

You and Din had stopped at the jail as soon as you’d entered the city, eager to pick up as many bounties as you could. It earns you some trust with the lawmen and gives you an excuse to meander the city at any time, asking questions to get the lay of the land and search for real targets. This time it was easier than that, but it doesn’t mean you won’t maximize your time here, exploring every possible avenue of income.

“Bobby is the reason they’re our targets. I used my charm on the sheriff, he says Bobby’s the one who put the price on their heads. We get them and maybe we get invited to that big fancy party that’s next week.”

You aren’t able to see it, but Din frowns, teeth gritting at the mention of using your charm. He should be used to it by now, and it should never bother him. But in the recesses of his mind, there’s no denying that it does. None of those men deserve to look at you, let alone witness your charm.

“Party,” Din repeats, sounding skeptical.

“It’s at his house. His mansion. The one full of expensive shit,” You explain as you slip into the only thing of your mother’s you have left— an old, scratchy nightgown.

“You’re still not sellin’ it, girl.”

“We can’t pass up all the riches in that man’s house, Din. You’ll have to deal. I’ll charm, you’ll steal and we’ll leave this place,” You insist as you slide into bed next to him, facing away so that your backs are just a few inches apart.

Din’s body radiates heat and despite the sweltering heat, you stay beneath the blanket with him. Sometimes if the two of you sleep close enough to the other, you’ll wake up tangled in his arms the next morning. Neither of you say anything about it, going about those mornings as if they’re any other. And maybe they are.

“Do we gotta?”

“Strawberry’s reapings will only last so long,” You reason, glancing over your shoulder at him.

“You charm, I steal,” He repeats his version of your words and you can hear the mirth in his sandy voice.

“I just said that.”

“Did you? I didn’t hear,” He stretches, snuggling further in the mattress.

“You’re full of shit.”

He snorts, shaking his head, “Go to bed, girl, we’ve got busy days ahead.”

Din was right— the next week the two of you work from sunrise to sunset capturing all the bounties you’d collected from the sheriff. Some are easier than others, frequented black markets or popular bars for folk that run in your lifestyle.

But there’s one that’s tedious to catch; Stagecoach Mary, a notorious cowgirl who you’ve always admired all holed up in her little shack that rests in its own little bayou just outside of the city. The shootout with her eats up most of your ammo, and a bullet ends up grazing your arm. Din gets Mary hog-tied and strapped to his horse before he comes to check on you. He’s deathly quiet like he always is, but you can feel the urgency in his movements. He removes your button-down without asking, using some of the water in his canteen to cleanse the wound before he covers it in salve and wraps it.

“You alright?” He asks quietly as he helps you back into your shirt.

Your eyes go a bit wide at the raw sound of concern in his voice, but you quickly brush it off, “S’just a scratch, I’ll be just fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure, Din,” You say gently, and though it stings like a bitch, you aren’t going to say differently. The last thing your resolve needs is him fawning over you, worried about your health.

His gaze raises to meet yours, eyes narrowing to appraise you before he sighs and starts towards his horse. Mary is quiet on the ride back thankfully, and when you drop her off at the sheriff’s office, you get exactly what you two have been working so hard for. Bobby himself is there– the sheriff had told him about you and Din, how promising your skills had been so far and he wanted to thank you both personally.

He looks like money, with frills and shiny leather shoes, his hair slicked back with a pomade that smells like pine, ““I can’t thank you fine people enough. She’s been a real thorn in my side.”

You take the hand he’s offered, shaking it daintly, “We’re happy to help Mr. LeRoy, no one should have to leave in fear.”

Leroy squeezes your hand before bending to kiss it, “Please, sweetheart, call me Bobby.”

You giggle softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “Bobby, then. I’m Scar. This is my partner Djarin.”

Din blinks in surprise before quickly schooling his expression into the impassive mask he’s so good at. It's the first that he’s heard of your name. He knows that this is part of the charm, knows that you wouldn’t give this man– or any man– your real name, but curiosity blooms inside of him. Had you just picked it randomly? Did it have any deeper meaning? Is it close to your real name?

“Scar? As in Scarlet? What a precious little gem,” Bobby runs his hand down the length of your arm, turning to look at Din with a glint of jealousy in his eyes. “Djarin, bet you never get enough of this sweet woman’s charm.”

“We aren’t— she’s my workin’ partner, s’all,” Din says firmly, though the way that he clenches his jaw says otherwise.

But who is Bobby to tell a grown man how he truly feels? Especially if he can reap benefits. He grins, turning back to look at you, “Well I’ll be hog wallered, I thought a dime like you’d be taken, Scar. If that’s true…I’m having this grand party in just a few days. Come, the both of you.”

“Oh, we couldn’t Bobby!”

“I insist!”

A sly grin spreads across your face and you smooth your hand over his, “Well if you insist. We’ll be there.”

A few nights later, after spending the days in fitting rooms, shopping (and stealing), you and Din are finishing up getting ready for the party in your inn room. You peek around the partition to make sure that he’s dressed and your mouth goes dry. He’s in a sleek black suit, the silver accents of his belt buckle and cowboy boots glinting in the last rays of sun that flood the small room. He looks incredible, his hair wet and slicked back, skin scrubbed completely clean. You lean back, bracing yourself against the wall as you force those thoughts out of your head. A distraction, you need a distraction. You look down at your dress, toying with the skirts– perhaps your distraction could be in distracting him.

“How do I look?” You ask as you step from behind the partition, holding your arms out as if to present yourself.

Din simply stares at you, and you’re about to tell him to forget it when he finally speaks. “You look—“ He stops, going quiet for what seems like forever before he clears his throat.

“What, is it? I look bad, don’t I? It’s stuffy, but we gotta look the part.” Your head tilts as you turn this and that way, watching the skirt flutter as you twirl.

“You look—it’s good,” He supplies, turning towards the mirror to fiddle with his tie. He swallows, ignoring the way the fabric of his tie sticks to his sweaty hands.

You turn to look at him, frown deepening as you smooth your hands down the intricate corset of the dress, “You sure? I need him to look at me, and if it’s not pleasin'—“

“It’s plenty pleasin’, now finish up and let’s go.”

You and Din rented a carriage, standing out to others invited would just make this evening worse. The ride– like most of your traveling with Din– is quiet, and you fiddle with your fingers, forcing yourself not to pick at the polish you’d gotten down for the occasion.

The mansion is grand, all cream with pillars and statues so delicate they look fit to shatter if you look at them wrong. You’re guided inside by men dressed in impeccable suits, hor devours and glasses of champagne pressed into your hands as you make your way through the expansive foyer and down the stairs into an even large backyard.

This is something you could only imagine in those moving pictures you’ve only had time to see once or twice. There are tables full of food and alcohol, droves of people dressed to the nines dancing and laughing and eating. And while you’re impressed, disgust accompanies it. The excess when there are so many who don’t have enough to make it a week. You’d seen plenty of unhoused folks on the streets as you and Din explored Cheyenne and this party could feed them all for days on end. You swallow your disdain for everyone here by focusing on the goal and painting a smile on your face as you breeze through the crowd. Try as you might, you can’t find Bobby so you park at a table that’s moderately far from the various groups of others.

“Maybe he hasn’t come out yet,” You whisper to Din as you pretend to look over some of the food. It looks so fancy that it’ll make you sick.

“Stay here and watch for’em, I’ll see what I can find out.”

Your eyes don’t leave him as he skates through the crowd easily and your mouth turns down in a frown when he’s stopped by a beautiful woman. To your surprise, he doesn’t blow her off, smiling as he begins to talk to her. You’ve never seen Din like this before. In the short month or so that you two have been together, you’ve been the lead on charming as all the places you’ve been in teem with men and their testosterone. You aren’t sure what this feeling is that rises in your chest as you watch the woman Din is talking to throw her head back with laughter. What you do know is that you want to end. Your feet are moving you towards him before you can think logically about it.

“Djarin, could I speak to you for a moment?” You say in your sweetest, most polite voice— emphasis on your southern drawl.

The woman he’s speaking to gives you a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes.

Din excuses you both, walking you over to a quiet spot beneath an ice sculpture that is surprisingly intact despite the heat of tonight’s air, “What is it, girl?”

Delicately as not to draw anyone’s attention, you remove your arm from his grasp, mouth pressed into a thin line, “What the hell happened to ‘you charm, I steal’?”

“She’s been in the house before. I was gettin’ the lay of it. You ain’t doing much charming if you’re chewin’ me out, are you? Look who it is.”

Bobby has finally made an appearance.

You narrow your eyes at him but stay silent. Din just stares back, unphased and you eventually give up, slinking off to do your part. To charm. Once you’re by his side, Bobby stays close to you like a bee stuck in honey– it's annoying really but this life has given you incredible acting skills so he’s none the wiser.

Lucky for you he gets distracted by some bigwig oil men who start to throw around some big numbers. You stand by his side, listening politely– gathering the names of these men just in case you ever run into them again– until you grow bored. You excuse yourself to the powder room, assuring him that you’ll return shortly as you leave the sweetest kiss on his cheek. You feel the way he shivers against you, his eyes cloudy as he nods.

Not long after you’d gone to talk to Bobby you’d seen Din slip out of the crowd and into the house. It may be a pain to find him a place this large but if you’re caught it’ll be realistic to play a dizzy, turned-around maiden.

As soon as you’re out of sight you spit, wiping your mouth with your sleeve in a move most unladylike as you try to find Din. The halls are empty, it seems as if Bobby’s staff is either occupied with entertaining guests or off for the evening.

“Up here, girl,” Din calls from above you, and when your eyes meet he holds up a sack that looks fit to burst. The smile that spreads across his face is different than the one he’d given the woman he talked to early, this one is genuine and it makes your heart flutter.

“How’s it going?” You ask once you make your way up to the stairs to stand beside him.

“Good, last room we got left is his office. C’mon.”

You follow after him closely, keeping your steps light like a cat so as not to draw any attention from below. When the two of you turn a corner down the final hall which holds Bobby’s office, there are two guards— one blonde, one brunette— standing outside of the door that is gilded in gold. You roll your eyes at its gaudiness but step forward with wide, guileless eyes.

“I’m sorry you two, it seems we’ve got lost trying to find the powder room. Could you help us?” You bat your lashes at the two men, standing up a little taller to push your breasts out.

“Back the way you came, down the stairs, to the left,” the blonde one says, unaffected by your attempt at charm.

Nevertheless, you try again, getting a little closer to the brunette, whose eyes have had a hard time staying on your face.

You gaze up at him with puppy dog eyes, “Could you maybe walk us? I mean— we are lost.”

You raise your hand to fiddle with the distracted guard’s tie, but the first one’s hand shoots out, wrapping tightly around your wrist. You gasp, looking over at the guard in feigned offense, like you’re some helpless maiden– like you wouldn’t slit his throat if your knife wasn’t buried under so many layers of fabric.

“It would do you best to walk away ma’am or I’ll have to call the lawmen,” The blonde says, his grip tightening around your wrist until it makes you wince.

Din takes a step forward, his voice so low and rough it sends a welcome chill down your spine. You don’t have to look at him to know how terrifying he looks right now, “No, it would do you best to let her go or I’ll have to crush your windpipe.”

“You threatenin’ me, yokel?”

You lean closer to the brunette guard, grimacing as you say, “Well this ain’t gonna end well is it?”

His eyes widen for a moment, flickering behind you and you know that Din is moving, already going in for the kill. You do your best to pry your hand from the other guard’s grip but it is tight, and as you struggle the one in front of you struggles to get his gun. As soon as your hand is free you reach for his neck, planting your feet so that you’ll have the strength to snap his neck. There’s a loud crack from beside you before you can get your hands in the right place, and your glance over to Din, seeing the way he followed through— the man's face is red and limp, the blood vessels in his eyes busted.

You regret getting off track because it seems the guard still alive is successful, getting off one shot that flies up into the ceiling. Refocusing, you knee him in the stomach, and his gun clatters to the ground just as you get your hands around his neck and twist as hard as you can.

“Fuck,” You breathe as the second man’s body hits the floor. His gunshot will absolutely draw attention, you and Din need to move quickly.

“In and out, no safes, whatever is unlocked and out in the open.”

You follow his instructions with no hesitation, stepping over the two bodies and moving through Bobby’s office with ease. There are solid gold paperweights, stacks of bonds, maps of train routes and what they’ll be holding, and even a few stacks of money in drawers. It's a jackpot if you’ve ever seen one and the two of you share a look of wonder before kicking it into gear to get out of there. You can hear the footsteps of lawmen rumbling through the house and give Din the signal to move into the room across the hall– it's another powder room. The two of you squeeze into the shower, listening intently as the lawmen call to each other, trying to figure out where you’ve gone.

You hear a voice say, “They must’ve gotten by us. Comb the streets.”

That works perfectly in your favor, and you grin over a Din, knowing that the streets are not how you plan to escape. As soon as the coast is clear, Din grabs your hand, leading you the opposite way of all the lawmen and house staff that have started towards Bobby’s office and bedroom. The two of you sneak out a side door and make your way toward the bayou in the backyard. You’d already set up a boat there to make an escape— no one would expect it since you and Din had rented a carriage to arrive.

He helps you step in the boat, grasping the hem of your skirts so that it’s easier for you to step in, and joins you as soon as you're settled. He doesn’t know how to row— not well at least— so you grab the oars and get to work. Your horses are strewn up to trees not too far from here and afterward you’ll collect your belongings from the inn and leave Cheyenne for good.

Din has started to count the money he retrieved, thumbing through the bills with his steady fingers.

“I pocketed a few things here and there while I waited for you— mostly watches but some wallets too. This should be a lot, we could rest in the next town for a bit if you wanted,” You whisper into the night.

He nods at you but doesn’t stop counting, pulling out a few gold bars you imagine he got from a safe. Once he’s finished counting he restarts, wanting to make sure he’s right.

“This is enough to get outta this,” He mumbles once he’s finished.

You think you’ve misheard him. “What?”

“This enough to get outta this,” He says again, looking up at you. You’re too busy rowing to gaze back at him and he takes this opportunity to look at you unabashedly, something he never lets himself do. It’s foggy enough that even if you were to notice his eyes burning into you, he could play it off, blaming it on the wispiness in the air.

Though you both look ridiculous, stiff, and dolled up for this party even as you row diligently through the muggy bayou, everything about you still shines through. His eyes are syrupy slow, following the curve of your jaw, the swell of your cheek, the line of your nose.

“Din?”

“Hmm?”

“Outta this profession, you mean?” You repeat the question he hadn’t heard as he got lost in you.

He clears his throat and sits up, staring into the fog, “You can’t tell me you never thought about it. Slowing down with a little patch of land, few animals and crops.”

Sure you had– on your loneliest days you’d let your mind wander. You let yourself dream about a life like that with someone. When Din came into your life, those dreams became a little more specific no matter how many times you tried to push them away.

Your brows shoot up as you finally look at him, face twisted in surprise, “You want to settle?”

“I said I’ve thought about it. This is just enough to get far enough that no one knows us. We’d need a lot of money to get everything for a stead. Not to mention makin’ it sustainable.”

This is the first time you’ve ever heard him talk like this and though you’ve only been doing this together for a month or so, you’d think it was something he would mention before entering into a partnership with someone. But hell— he still doesn’t know your name. It's worked so far, hasn’t it?

You make it to where your horses are, Augustine and Cresida look at you both expectantly, as if they’ve been waiting all day and have places to be.

“You’re serious,” You say in disbelief as he helps you out of the boat.

“There’s no reason for me to lie, girl,” He starts to shed his layers, removing the suit jacket and the crisp white button-down in favor of his long-sleeved undershirt. “You’ve never…”

You fish the pair of jeans you stashed on your horse out, hiking them up under the huge skirt of your dress before you take a knife and cut through it. You easily cut through the fabric of the tight corset, letting out a relieving breath.

“I have. Here and there. Didn’t see a point for it if it was just to be alone,” You murmur, shrugging into your shirt.

He’s quiet for a moment, before whispering into the night, barely heard over the symphony of crickets and cicadas, “Different now, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Everything’s been different since meeting him. As the two of you mount your horses and start off into the night, your mind can’t help but wander back to that key detail— this man wants to settle down with a wild, nameless woman like you. Maybe that says enough. Maybe it’s all you’ll need.

ch 3: eyes full of stars

series taglist: @honeybrowne, @hotchs-bitch, @jazzelsaur, @lesbianhotch, @ivyheliotrope, @campingwiththecharmings, @frogers, @juneknight, @obscurexsorrows

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #cowboy din djarin #cowboy!din #the mandalorian au #the mandalorian fanfiction #not sfw

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ur-local-demon1 · 2 days

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Uhm so, I wrote this Amanene fankids ficlet to de-stress about my exams and also cuz I'm sick and I needed to do something simple to occupy myself. I'm sharing it because "the human connection will make me feel like a human again- what?"

Fic under Keep Reading. If this does well, I might post it to AO3

For the first time since their second child was born, Nene finally got a whole day with the house and bed to herself. Meanwhile, Amane owed Tsubaki a daddy-daughter date - albeit, with Tsugumi in tow - that was long overdue. However, before they could do that, Amane had to explain that they needed to make a quick stop to get groceries to acquire the food that kept them alive along with other products that made them not stink. It was still a difficult concept for Tsubaki to grasp but as long as she got a strawberry icecream for her troubles, everything was fine.

So here they were; Amane was walking through the aisles, and crossing things off the list. While Tsubaki was sitting in the cart’s baby seat, kicking her feet and looking around curiously, Tsugumi was strapped to his father’s back, sleeping soundly as he was being rocked by all the walking around. Unlike his older sister, Tsugumi was a calm newborn who didn’t act up too much and loved his beauty sleep; much to Amane and Nene’s relief. They got through the list pretty quickly, but reached the dreaded item, as per Kou’s request. Amane steeled himself and headed into the toy aisle. As he tried to choose a good gift for his niece/granddaughter - Kou and Sousuke’s daughter, Ageha - he could see in his peripheral vision his own child’s eyes move to every single toy on the shelf.

“... Baba?”

Oh for the love of- “Yes, sweetie?” he said, forcing his voice to remain neutral. Tsubaki pointed towards a doll Amane could have sworn she already had.

“Can I have this pleeeassseee?” She asked, giving him her best puppy dog eyes that had a track record of making her poor father break on multiple occasions.

“I don’t know, is it on the list?” He asked rhetorically. Tsubaki, being only five years old at the time, just stared at him and shrugged. Amane smiled affectionately and ruffled her hair. “It’s not, baby. We’re only buying something for your cousin. Uncle Kou and Sousuke are coming over next week.” He reminded her while he kept looking through the toys in front of him. Tsubaki seemed to think long and hard about something.

“Why can’t I have things that aren’t on the list?” She asked.

“Cuz we only buy things that are on the list.” Amane responded immediately, remembering the long lecture he and Nene got from all the 3 grandparents for ‘spoiling Tsubaki too much’ after they had helped them sell the thousands of toys that she had grown bored of in the span of two weeks.

“It’s not like the earth would blow up if we bought something that wasn’t on the list…” Tsubaki mumbled under her breath.

“Who says it couldn’t?” Amane reasoned. Tsubaki stared at him confusedly.

“It could do that?” She asked.

“I mean, it exists because of an explosion, so… Maybe?” Amane was multi-tasking; he worked on distracting Tsubaki while also trying to choose between two purple barbies. He eventually put them both down when he remembered the last conversation he had with Kou a few days ago where he told him that after years of purple being her favourite color, Ageha woke up one day and suddenly decided that it was the worst thing to ever exist.

Tsubaki looked like she was struggling to understand what her dad meant by that. “... What?”

“The big bang, sweetie.” He clarified, finally turning to face Tsubaki as he had found a gift: a pair of turquoise fairy wings. “There was an explosion a billion years ago and it made the earth. Well, I’ll explain that better when you’re older.”

Tsubaki tilted her head to the side. “Did you see that happen?”

“Of course not!” Amane exclaimed. “Hold on- how old do you think I am?” It was in moments like that that Amane was grateful that Tsubaki still struggled to count over one hundred.

“Seventy eight! Mommy said so!” She recalled proudly. Amane paled and hurried to mentally calculate if Tsubaki and Nene were wrong or if he really was a decrepit old man.

…

…“...I’m physically thirty two.” He muttered before walking away and going back to explaining the big bang to a toddler, which was much easier than thinking about the fact that you were physically forty six years younger than you were supposed to be.

#tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #amanene fankids #fankids #ficlet #hananene #amanene

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audiovisualrecall · 3 months

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Had a meltdown of sorts but not my usual screaming destructive frustrated meltdown, more of an emotional release and actually expressing myself, but in a distinctly neuroatypical way. So. Not really a meltdown but feels similar? Or maybe I was on the edge of a meltdown but I turned it into more productive crying and communicating instead simply by luck. I think that's more accurate. An averted meltdown crying session. In which I acknowledged out loud that things are different for me and are going to be different from the 'usual' 30 year old, because I am disabled. Like that's not giving up or acting younger than my age to acknowledge that my disabilities- autism + adhd (+anxiety+depression) make things different for me. They're disabilities bc they are disabling to varying extents and varying times.

My sister awhile ago told me I should move out, and on one hand I want to be independent and not feel like a child when I'm with our parents, and I've never lived away from home for more than a week, and i get that in her opinion as the child who went the farthest from home more than once, that experience of living away from home was good for her and her growth and independence, she thinks trying for that goal by the same method would be good for me too.

But the aspects of my disabilities that are disabling are the things that would make moving out and living on my own or even with roommates anywhere from somewhat difficult to meltdown-inducing stressful with negative results (in other words I could go the opposite direction and retreat from independence more bc it scary and difficult and if I'm not good at something right away I give up bc it feels bad!) I can barely manage to make all these phone calls to try to get my medication, I haven't even looked into how my new dental coverage works and didn't call my dentist back and only listened to their voicemail yesterday bc I got stressed out about everything, I have at least one maybe two bills or more overdue to my Dr's office that I have the ability to pay but just haven't taken care of and just can't get myself to do it, I paid for driving lessons over 2 years ago and still haven't called them back to schedule the lessons between being busy and overthinking everything to do with the phone call and the scheduling and the lessons themselves, I struggle to keep my cat's litterboxes clean, I struggle to make sure I shower, I'm struggling to keep up brushing my teeth after starting twice or 3x a day back after my dental surgery in now at 1x a day because I'm always in a rush in the mornings and I have to remind myself to brush before bed *every single time*, I overthink and then fail to respond to messages/texts/emails constantly, I forgot I was going out on the sales floor to help a customer at work yesterday completely bc I got distracted and they waited 10+ mins for me going back and forth to customer service and were very unhappy, i cant get myself to go to bed on time or do a million other things, etc etc etc.

On top of that, I actually *like* spending time with my parents and I'm aware they're getting older, they're not Old, but older. I don't want to throw away time I can spend with them on this idea that I need to live on my own to be independent or just to act my age, like there aren't other 30 yr olds living at home. (My mom lived at home until she got married, sure she went away to college, yes, but still came back and lived at home after that. My dad probably also lived at home until they got married, and hes older than my mom by 2 yrs.) There's nothing so inherently not-independent about living at home as an adult.

Also steph thinks that our parents deserve or need to live alone just the two of them, and do everything alone, as if I'm always spending time with them? Plenty of times I do my own thing while they go somewhere and do something on their own. 'Second honeymoon' she called what she thinks they should have, but they can and have and will go up to the cape just the two of them whenever they want to. I came with them this past one time bc I needed a vacation too and also was too anxious to stay alone and also I hadn't seen the place up there yet at all. They don't mind me spending time with them or living at home, and if they want or need to do their own thing without ne they will and have and can say so! But anyway the idea suggests me needing support for my disabilities is somehow impinging on their ability to live the retired life, like it implies I should feel bad or try to not make them put up with me too much or something. But the fact is I AM disabled and I DO need support and they are my support system at the moment. That doesn't change just because I'm 30 now. I may or may not need the same support for the rest of my life, I don't know, and yes I know they won't be with me for my whole life (tho my zayde was around for 60+ years of my mom's life and 30+ years of it with her as an adult, so), but focusing on the here and now this is where I'm at right now, and I'm the future I can develop other support systems and I can branch out further and further over time, I think I've come a long way since I was 20 let alone 25, even if it doesn't always feel like it, and in other ways I'm struggling more, for different reasons, but anyway. I'm not a burden on my parents and I shouldn't feel the need to remove that burden from their retired life, bc it wouldn't be in my Own best interests to do so! And I'm allowed to be selfish and do what's best for me as long as it works for my parents as well. And it does.

There are still ways I can work on being independent, I try a little bit more all the time and push myself a little bit, and that's okay.

I don't need to do what steph thinks I ought to as a 30 yr old and I don't need to shrink myself from being a problem for my parents by doing things that won't be right for me right now, when I'm not a problem or a burden I just need their support.

And again I do like spending time with them, sometimes I get frustrated with them and with the expectation I'll just continue doing things the same way we always have, for example with dinners, but it also just makes sense like. If dad cooks bc he likes cooking and is best at it, then it makes sense to eat together at the same time when it's fresh and hot off the pan, no need to insist on my own separate time and meal, when it's efficient to est the same meal and together.

Anyway just...thinking and coming to terms but in a positive way, accepting I am disabled and that that's okay.....

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devitalise · 1 year

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Omg I really thought this would be the month I'd beat you to the punch with a check-in but once again time has evaded me & May is, in fact, over in a mere few days 🤥 I think I need to start keeping a physical calendar again to avoid these jumpscares BUT ANYWAY!!! MAY READS!!!! END OF SUCCESSION THOUGHTS!!! WHAT ON EARTH IS IMO GONNA WATCH & READ NEXT!!! 🎤

maybe next month you'll get me.. answering this a lil early so excuse any thoughts that aren't Fully Developed i'll just be away from my laptop and you know how much i love these

may book wrap up

in cold blood by truman capote

i can't remember what i said about this last month. maybe i'm the only person in the world who didn't know this was a "true crime novel" i thought i just picked up a fictional crime genre book. my mistake! general personal thoughts on the gross peversive nature of true crime aside, i think this as investigative journalism (with a questionable bias, fictionalised events, general capote tendecy to lie and gossip) i didn't hate reading it. i could absolutely tell how taken Capote was with Perry Smith in this, he kept coming back to reiterate details about his upbringing and i had to skim parts just because they were of little interest to me. i haven't read anything where the author has managed to so completely remove themselves from their writing like this before. took me a while to read it was a kindle choice and i struggled with reading this month.

podcast: overdue (really enjoyed this podcast set up, actually.) music: red dead redemption 2 soundtrack and this playlist

the piano teacher by elfriede jelinek

unlikable loathsome woman in Austria, this time. really dislike books like this, and this was barely any different. i think Jelinek as an author is neat, i see why she won a nobel peace prize, i'd love to be able to read German to get what was lost in translation. didn't love the story at all here. menacing and gross. what i found most interesting (and hated reading in equal parts) was erica's fucked up relationship with her mother. hate your mother hate the part of her that lives within you, etc etc. i thought this would be sexier, or at least just have more sex like the blurb promised, but other than a few voyeuristic encounters it lacked it completely. sexless and stale. a lot of men dislike this book, though, so if anyone asks then i absolutely loved it.

i read two reviews about this, both with opposing views to my own but interesting to read. music: this soundtrack that almost sent me to sleep. won't be watching the movie

heatwave by victor jestin

it got hot towards the end of last week and i could finally crack open this short little book. i didn't hate it, wasn't blown away by it either. apparently i don't read blurbs - another shock here! i think because these are books that i bought so many months ago when it comes to reading them it's like oh?? well. i was distracted and tanning and drinking gin & tonics whilst reading, and i think this needed more of my attention than i could give. or maybe that's just me being generous.

no links for this one. pending.

i'm currently reading bonjour tristesse by francoise sagan. i've actually finished it but there's two stories in one so i'm on A Certain Smile now. more french books, they're the only books i have set in the summer at the moment. i started reading it on the beach, too.

i bought some new books: season of migration to the north by tayeb smith, the thief's journal by jean genet, my father's diet by adrian nathan west, and diary of a film by niven govinden. i've been reading some really hard books this year (and have bought four more) so i'm gonna switch lanes to some easier reads. the atlas six and nightbitch are probably the easiest of the ones i own at the moment.

AHHHH SUCCESSION.

kendall roy....

i have mixed thoughts about the ending i think it makes perfect sense what went down with the siblings, it doesn't mean that kendall being betrayed hurts me any less. i'm emotionally exhausted after finishing it so i've been watching cooking competitions on netflix. next is the sopranos as my Drama of Choice

also i've been listening to the once upon a time at bennington college podcast you recommended! really enjoying it so far

#book talk #djservo #i didn't know if i'd even finish one book this month tbh #saving my next rachel cusk read for when i really need a pick me up

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crystalelemental · 1 year

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Alright, this is overdue. I need to finally talk like...actual Utena thoughts. We finished the show like two weeks ago and I just never followed up, first because thinking about it, then because Distracted. This last post I made talking about it was after episode 23, so there’s...a lot. This is my first run through, and I'm not super confident in interpretation of stuff here, but no way to get better at it than to try. I'll try to keep it organized, but no promises.

Okay, so Nanami's Egg is about getting her first period, right? That feels like...really obvious. Like the way it's framed as both fear of this being abnormal, and then everyone laughing at her for developing this late? That seems obvious. Also, unrelated, but I love how Touga's going on about preferences involves trying to tell Nanami a man and a woman is the proper way, and using the phrase "No matter how good it feels" when talking about same-sex preferences. Like, buddy. My guy.

Anyway, the major line from that episode is that whole "We're only able to live comfortably this way because you're not the type of woman who lays eggs." Which, in that context of laying eggs as now having your period, is pretty fucked, Touga! But also, I think I kinda get what it's going for?

They talk about siblings as people who are always there, and in the case of the prince and his sister, that the sister was the only person to truly love him. There's a big emphasis placed on that aspect of love. But also a lot of the sibling pairs seem to have some weird interest in each other. I think the idea is supposed to be more about how your first encounter with love is through the family, and that your conceptualization of love is formed through those early experiences. Not necessarily in sexual ways, but just in how you provide and seek out affection. And in some cases that is then sexual, given how Anthy and Akio’s relationship goes.

Sex is a big thing in the last season. I honestly joked at first about the car being a metaphor for sex, but like...man, is it? Akio goes on a lot about loving the vibration of the engine, and being in the car does result in shirts opening and discussions of those relationships, with Ruka and Shiori apparently just fucking right in the back seat. But I think that's only a part of it; the engine that drives it, in a sense. The car itself is, I think, more the relationship in totality. I say this mostly because, at the climax (hee hee) of each duel in that season, the cars headlights turn on and fixate on the castle with the prince. When Utena deals the finishing blow, the car crashes, and that illusion dispelled. It feels to me like the vibe is that all eyes are on their prince, the ideal they imagine, rather than the person in front of them, and that leads to the breakdown of that relationship.

Slightly related, but there are only two instance I recall where a character sits on the front of the hood. One is Akio in like every episode jumping onto it after revving the engine as hard as it'll go. The other is Nanami, who arrives to the dueling arena on the hood, but while the car is off. This is also right after she's like absolutely not with Touga, so it makes sense the engine is off if its purpose is representative of sex.

Another interesting change: Nanami only has one sword in that fight. Previously, both in her initial duel and when Tsuwabuki uses her swords, she has two: a full blade, and a dagger. That change is interesting. I talked in the last one about not quite knowing the deal with the swords, but I think I've got something.

It seems their trauma. Like, in Miki's case, his seems to be around the guilt of his sister not playing anymore. Juri's is around her own bitterness with Shiori. In the case of Nanami, there's two, and I think it's interesting that one disappears after she's decided she doesn't want that kind of dynamic with Touga. One of them seems to be her hangups around him. The other seems to be her need to stand out; to be someone important. In a way, that's still tied to Touga. He's her super popular big brother that she gains a lot of clout from; even her three flunkies only follow her because they're into Touga and hoping to use her to get close. When she loses, her primary concern is about being just another face in the crowd, and that's the worst outcome she can think of. Her primary baggage is around being liked, and being someone important to others. Which was the whole thing with Wakaba, and a pretty significant part of the show.

I'm jumping ahead a long ways, but the ending of the show has Utena transferring out, and everyone forgets about her pretty quickly, even Wakaba. There's a big emphasis on being special in the Wakaba duel, and Akio asserts that some people are just naturally special while most aren't, and lays it on pretty thick that Utena is one of the special ones. But that's not true. The ultimate outcome is that no one is Special in the grand, cosmic sense. But the Wakaba duel is significant in that it's the most distinct in the black rose arc, because Wakaba is important to Utena. Everyone is special to someone, but no one is Special. Nanami is a character who seems to seek being Special, even as she ruins the dynamics that could result in her being important to someone. Her closest friends will turn on her in an instant for their own ends, and she doesn't exactly treat people well; she just wants to be noticed and important to others.

But, swords. I think another interesting angle is that, for the most part, people have their own blades. There are unique swords pulled from each person. The only exception is Anthy, whose sword is the Sword of Dios. Akio's. The swords as trauma then translates to Anthy carrying his trauma. She doesn't seem to have her own sword, it's just his. Given that the major focus is on Akio's abuse toward Anthy, this makes sense. Perhaps moreso given the ending’s whole “Swords don’t fit princesses.” That idea that you can’t weaponize or take control of your own trauma. That sense of just needing to be passively protected, let someone else handle it for you. The princess lives in the castle and the prince protects them. Their only role is to be protected; to have someone else make the decision of what's best for you. And that's a position ripe for abuse.

In the early duels, this was a big thing with Utena’s approach to Anthy. Sure, she’s trying to help, but Utena’s approach is “This must be what’s best for Anthy,” and takes it upon herself to see it done, even if it’s not strictly what Anthy would want. The ultimate stabbing at the end there kinda indicates that Utena hasn’t had the right of exactly what it is Anthy’s wanted, or gone about things the right way. Trying to be that prince wasn’t the best course. And ultimately, she doesn’t save Anthy. Because you can’t just save them by jumping in and making decisions for them. It’s just another form of control, in a way.

Opening the rose gate, that big goal of Akio’s, is something that only works when Utena cries. It’s that empathetic response that gets things to start opening up. Just hitting at the wall, trying to break things down, isn’t working. If anything, the swords as trauma means Akio attacking the gate is a solid metaphor for that re-traumatization. You don’t help someone past what hurt them by trying to help in the same way. That idea of taking control for them is just hurting them again.

The coffins themselves are interesting too. I think it's an extension of the egg metaphor from the early season; that idea of the chick that couldn't break free and died. Season 2 also had the reversion of the butterfly back to the egg, retreating into the shell of what's familiar and feels safe. The coffin seems to be the next step of that. It's the refusal to progress, and I assume to stay with what is harmful, because it feels safe.

That leads to the whole “End of the World” thing. Which I think is a pun? Like, there’s end of the world in the apocalypse sense, which is definitely the more intended interpretation given the songs. But also there’s end as in like...the edge, the boundary of the world. When Utena transfers, Anthy tells Akio she’s not gone, she’s just “no longer in your world.” That sense of the end of the world is, I assume, like the edge of Akio’s reach. He talks about it in Season 2 with Souji, how you can’t really grow or move on so long as you’re at this school. That’s the boundary of his control. The apocalypse would be escaping it, abandoning that world for something else. Changing from something familiar can feel like the end of your world, and like some great calamity, before it settles into something more liberating. I think maybe that’s the intent behind it, that this apocalypse is what’s needed. The talk about bringing revolution...may not even be the right approach? Like, revolution would imply fixing what’s within, rather than just getting the hell out. “Bringing revolution” might not be what’s best. Sometimes you just gotta leave.

I'm running out of a direct stream of connected thoughts, so miscellaneous section time, I think:

Stars as girls. That one seems obvious. Anthy talks about not wanting to look at real stars in the episode Utena and Akio fuck, and Akio talks about having discovered a new comet no one knows about and keeping it to himself around the same time everyone starts commenting on Utena seeming more like a girl. Akio's confession about never really liking the stars is interesting. Dude's not even that into girls. Sure, he'll fuck them, but you gotta have that preference no matter how good it feels, right?

They showcase really plainly how the stringent rules of the uniform allow Akio an easy in with Utena. That insistence on traditional gender presentation results in Akio being able to go "Hey other staff, let our students express their individuality" and suddenly he seems like such a cool guy. What's interesting is that he's the acting chairman right now. He can just...make the rules not stringent. But that would loosen his grip. Strict enforcement of these kinds of gender roles and expectations is something those seeking to abuse will exploit, by seeming like they're oh so cool for being more laid back about the things they help enforce. It's a clever demonstration in a pretty short scene.

This isn't metaphor, but I fucking love that Nanami's "friends" turn on her, set up this whole thing of like oh no, is Nanami about to experience a consequence for her actions, only for her to show up, completely unharmed and put together, with all three of her funkies bandaged and beat to shit. Like that was supposed to be the "See what happens when you make bad friends?" scene and Nanami decided no, I will never learn a lesson, and just brute forced all of them back in line. I love her so much.

In the last scene as Anthy' leaving, there's Chu Chu and the frog on him, with Chu Chu squirming loose and running off. This is just a dumb little factoid, but frog mating involves amplexus, which is basically just grab on and hold tight until it's done. It's a neat little visual representation of what's going on for Anthy too.

I...think that’s all I got? There’s probably a ton of stuff I missed, this show feels really dense. It’s a lot. But it was really, really good. I’ll definitely rewatch it at some point, but...later. This feels like the kind of thing you need a palette cleanser for after before going back in.

#revolutionary girl utena

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fbfh · 2 years

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last first kiss - dustin henderson x reader fluff

wc: 1.3k

genre: FLUFF!!!!!!!!!!, friends to lovers, pining

pairing: dustin x gn reader

warnings: some suzie mentions, steve is bad at relationship advice (what's new), dustin is crushing hardcore on you, kissing in mike wheeler's basement, mentions of past encounters with demogorgons and monsters, allusions to events from seasons 1 - 3, ambiguous timeline but takes place after season 3, Will catches you kissing lol

summary: while waiting for your friends, you and dustin get to talking and he tells you that he broke up with suzie. he doesn't tell you he broke up with her because he's had a crush on you since the snowball, but maybe finally working up the nerve to kiss you will be a good way to confess.

song rec: young love - coby grant, last first kiss - one direction

a/n: i tried to fix a typo in a JJ fic and it got posted like a week early because tumblr is a hellsite :) anyway please enjoy this ty for the request it was literally so adorable!!!!!

tags: @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @littlewinter1917 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sad-brunnettee @ilikemypolarbear @lubsana @cowboylikekelsey @paris-loves-dustin

With all the crazy things you and your friends have been through lately, especially Will, it seemed long overdue to surprise him with a fun night together. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas came up with a plan, roping you, Max, and El along with them. You were going to surprise Will with a DnD campaign Mike has been working on, and it’s finally ready. Mike and Lucas are distracting Will, dragging him around downtown, running errands and taking him on various wild goose chases. El and Max are getting the real supplies - snacks. That leaves you and Dustin right here in Mike’s basement, painting cardboard monsters and villagers so they’re ready by the time everyone gets back.

You’re sitting on the floor across from each other, putting the finishing touches on the goblin you’d been working on. You’re pretty much done, and ahead of schedule too. The rest of the party should be back pretty soon, then you can start playing. Even though you and Max don’t really play DnD, you’re still excited to hang out with everyone.

You’ve been in the same class as the party since you started middle school, but you were in a different friend group. At the Snowball you couldn’t believe how rude your friend Stacey was to Dustin. You had always been nice to kids in other clubs and friend groups, and you thought she was the same. You told her off and marched right over to ask him to dance. Ever since that night, Dustin has been harboring a huge crush on you.

Nothing really came of it because you ran in different circles, until one night when you saw a demogorgon in your backyard. None of your friends believed you, so you didn’t know what to do or who to turn to, until you saw Dustin pass by in the hallway talking about different monsters and their hit points with Mike.

They’re into all that nerdy fantasy stuff, you realized, they would probably be able to tell you what you saw if you described it to them. Once you started grilling them about monsters, they put two and two together pretty fast. Ever since then, you’d been right beside them through every crazy thing that’s happened in Hawkins. Now you’re here, sitting across from Dustin and talking while the paint on the last few villagers dries.

“It’s so weird that me and Will are the only two in the group not dating someone,” you muse, fanning the wet paint with your hand before setting it down.

“Yeah, well, I mean it’s three now, but…” he murmurs, and you look up at him, confused.

“I thought you and Suzie-”

“Yeah, we, uh… I kinda broke up with her…” he picks at the carpet.

“What happened?” you ask quietly, “Just if you want to talk, I mean,” you amend. Breakups are tricky, and you want him to know that you’re there for him. He looks around the room, not quite meeting your gaze.

“Well, you know, her parents are really strict and everything,” he begins slowly, “and it’s a lot harder dating someone you can only see during summer, and can only talk to in secret, you know…”

“Yeah, it sounds hard,” you agree. He fidgets with the brim of his baseball cap, then continues.

“I think it’s better to date someone you’re close to.”

You look up at him.

“Like, physically closer to, same area… geographically…” he sputters, correcting himself.

“That makes sense.” you say with a chuckle.

“Maybe…” he says quietly, “you know, someone who goes to the same school, or something…” he murmurs. You consider.

“If you go to school together you could see them every day,” you smile. He’s reminded of all the times his day has been made just by passing you in the halls, the little wave and smile you greet him with. In spite of the dim lighting, the pink tint to his cheeks doesn’t slip past you.

“Yeah,” he agrees, avoiding your eyes. “That would be nice.”

“It sucks though, I know you really liked Suzie.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “she was really smart and pretty, she reminded me of you…” he trails off, eyes going wide. “Of… I mean, like, of what you would want… in a girlfriend…”

Your heart flutters a little as he sputters out a response, hoping he saved it and you don’t know about his impossible to hide titanic sized crush on you. You look down, fighting butterflies, then back up at him with that sweet smile of yours. You place your hand on his arm. His heart pounds harder.

“You’re… the best, Dustin. You’re going to find someone really, really lucky who sees that.” He can feel the sincerity of your words, and it makes him blush harder. The tips of his ears are pink as your words sink in.

It’s quiet for a second.

You start to lower your hand so you can check if the paint is fully dry. Before you can, he leans in close to you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. You stare at each other for a moment, breathless. You let out a flustered giggle, smiling like you do and making his heart do backflips. You place your hand on his cheek, leaning in to kiss him again. His eyes go wide, heart pounding, as you press your lips to his.

He can’t believe this is happening. He couldn’t believe it when you asked him to dance at the Snowball, he couldn’t believe it that day you walked up to him between third and fourth period and asked him how much he knew about monsters, couldn’t believe it every time since then when you’d backed up his crazy plans and fought by his side. He never thought he had a chance with you, so when he met Suzie at camp, all of Steve’s terribly hypocritical dating advice about not getting hung up on one person who’s not into you like that came rushing back to him. Look at him now, getting to kiss you.

You’re really flustered. More flustered than you’d expected to be. As your lips move against each other’s, you realize how much you really, really like Dustin. He’s always been so sincere and nice to you, and never two faced like some of your old friends. You’ve been there for each other through so much, you can count on each other for anything, and you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of how much you like him. He really is the best. You wonder why you didn’t realize how you feel sooner.

“What?! No!”

You pull away suddenly, heads whipping around to Will, who’s standing on the stairs.

“Not you too!” he cries. You both start talking over each other, scrambling for an explanation, but he cuts you off.

“Look, just-” he sighs. “I won’t say anything.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“But no pda!” he adds. You agree, thankful that didn’t go worse. He starts to go upstairs and you giggle, causing Dustin to giggle. You lean in to kiss him again.

Behind you, Will pokes his head down, shooting Dustin a thumbs up, which he returns, clearly excited at this whole turn of events. Will knows how bad Dustin has had it for you for so long, how much this must mean to him. He’s really happy for him, for both of you. You’re like, the nicest person ever, and Dustin is one of his best friends. You deserve each other, he thinks.

When you and Dustin finally pull away to catch your breath, he smiles bigger than you’ve ever seen him. He can’t believe this is real, that you like him back. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy. He can’t wait to tell Steve everything.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff #dustin henderson #dustin henderson x reader #dustin henderson fluff #the party are the friend group i needed when I was younger #dustin is an icon

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penname-artist · 2 years

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Update - Chaos and Collapse

Since late July I feel like I’ve been running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I have an overdue commission I can’t get footing on, a mass ten-person collab due in four days that I’ve only half-sketched, a handful of art and writing projects I promised to various friends, an enormous animation project I’ve been working on since March that’s still only 2/3rds complete, and I’m supposed to take on another commission next week for a YouTube branding.

So yes, I’m kind of exhausted DX On top of that half of the reason I’m so slow to get these projects done has been because work is sapping the life out of me and I don’t have the energy when I get home every day to do anything but recharge.

The other half of the problem is that I’m getting more and more scatterbrained by the day. I’m desperately trying to write daily to-do lists and remember what I said I was gonna do when and I still forgot I was supposed to join the VC a couple of times, I think I still have a load of laundry left in the dryer that’s been there for like, maybe two days, I have a bunch of projects I talked about doing that I haven’t written down and then promptly forgot existed, and I have had a bag of fleece and fiberfill sitting in the corner for a WEEK because I still haven’t got the time to make it into a dinosaur plushie. My hyperfixations kind of went haywire as I went scrambling for “distractions to keep you from desiring to unsubscribe from life this week” (thanks traumatic anniversary...#2) and trying to readjust and pull myself out of the fixation fog has not been fun nor easy.

Health concerns are also kind of getting in my way. Yesterday I had my blood sugar crash (for no fucking reason) which has me concerned for either diet related problems or underlying health concerns, and I’m also supposed to go in for a dental surgery in less than two weeks that I’m trying to work my schedule around. I have no clue if I’ll be out of commission after that or not, and if I am how long it’ll be for. If not the recovery of this surgery, definitely the recovery from the next one, I’ll get to have two implants drilled into my jaw. Much fun, amiright?

So apologies on the chance that any/all projects are

-overdue,

-postponed, or

-cancelled entirely.

September is still penned in as my month off (which, as I get closer to it, I realize that I’m eagerly awaiting it) so whatever I get done in August is what I get done in August and it’ll go on full pause for content creation until October first (ironically Volo Pro Veritas’ first year anniversary, whoop whoop!) so until the set in of the fall season and removal of my presumed summer depression, I’m going to TRY to get the big stuff that I can done (that being the collab and two commissions primarily) and we’ll just see what happens from there.

In summary: I am very tired.

#update #god Im tired #I am the embodiment of the song adrenaline right now #all my life Ive drowned in adrenaline #now my blood runs slow like a sedative #I wake up past noon and it settles in #Lord please help me up #I dont wanna lay down

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feveredbcnes · 2 years

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“ you’re safe with me, you know that right? ” (from Johnny hehe)

Shippy Memes II Accepting

Days rolled into weeks before he graced Johnny with his presence again. There were times when the wanderlust became too strong and the werewolf was off once more, grabbing his backpack and hopping on whatever public transport he could afford. He very rarely stayed in the same place for long, spooked at the thought of getting recognised by somebody he once knew. He wanted to keep the past firmly in the past. Sometimes, however, certain places were kept in mind for a revisit. The pull of a lovely café with gracious owners, or an area of outstanding beauty where he could sit and think for a while; they each had its own charm. But for an extrovert who made friends easily, it was mostly the people who charmed him into returning. In the case of Johnny, however, the circumstance of their meeting was far from normal. And the poor Hellhound got stuck with Reynardine the moment he decided to keep his massacre in the barn a secret.

"Knock-knock, it's meeeee." He really hoped that was the right number for Johnny's apartment, because this would be super embarrassing otherwise. He remembered the address, but that was as far as he got. It was night time, and the thought of scaring some old dear crossed his mind, until he heard a familiar grumbled response over the intercom. "Wha' do you mean 'who'? Absoliwt asyn! Your favourite person, y'know. Wha' other Welshman do you know, Johnny? Are you cheatin' on me, man? Best not be somebody from up North..." The sound of the front door unlocking made him grin, knowing full-well that his comment received an eyeroll from the other male. With enthusiasm, he made his way inside and took each step two at a time. It was the start of an overdue catch up, although most of it ended up being Reynardine talking; he rambled on about everything and nothing. But he felt listened to.

A good guest brought gifts, but the only thing he could offer was a pack of cigarettes. They were gratefully accepted as they smoked outside on the tiny balcony, over-looking the blur of city lights. A sense of calm, accompanied by the background noise of chatter and laughter below from neighbouring bars. It was way past midnight and Johnny had already offered for Reynardine to crash, which the latter immediately tried to refuse. He expected nothing -- he was okay, he had already survived this long -- explaining that he never wanted to be a burden on the other. But that was one thing with Johnny; he never made the werewolf feel like a burden. Out of all his blunt comments, sighs passing through tight lips, and automatic eyerolls in response to his antics, none of them were made from true dislike. If it was, there was no way Reynardine would be stood on this balcony right now. And neither would he have chosen Johnny's apartment as his first place to go upon his return.

"You sure? I mean, I feel like 'm outstayin' my welcome," he laughed tentatively, but his reasoning was dismissed again. The offer was final. "Thank you," he added, already anticipating solid sleep in a warm environment. "You saved me the hassle of fightin' for a spot behind a dumpster tonight." He joked, distracting himself by tapping the excess ash off his cigarette after receiving sudden silence from the other male. He had that familiar frown of deep concentration. Unnerving for some, but not for a werewolf who was used to it. His next words sounded sincere, enough for Reynardine to look back over at him with a somewhat perplexed expression. Did he even need confirmation? There was never a time he felt unsafe around Johnny.

"Gwirion," a quiet huff escaped him as he rested his head against Johnny's shoulder, closing his eyes in relaxation. "Wha' good is a guard dog if you don't feel safe around them, y'know?" There was an amused smile on his face.

#cainiine #v; send me on my way #waste a moment ( prompts )

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bondedforlife · 2 years

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Overdue by HgwrtsExchngeStdnt

Harry threw his gear haphazardly into his locker, stuffing and shoving it hastily so he could get the door closed. "Merlin, Potter, what's the rush?" Albert Dewhurst on his left chuckled, "I know you're pretty beat up, but you won't die if you can't get to hospital this minute." "I'm not going to Hospital," he muttered quietly. "Oh, that's right…" Dewhurst grinned knowingly, working off his jacket. "Got your very own Healer at home, haven't you? Going to let her work her magic?" he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "It's not that – she's probably going spare, though. We meant to be finished with this mission two and a half weeks ago…She knows she wont get any information from the Office – I have to get home…" he forced his locker shut, and headed for the door. "Don't you have reports you have to do?" "They can wait," Harry stated. "Aren't you at least going to change so you can turn in your uniform for repairs?" Dewhurst called, holding his own torn and slightly bloodied jacket in the air. "Don't have the time!" Harry called back. He jogged to the apparition point, ignoring the alarmed looks his appearance garnered. He hadn't seen his reflection, and frankly he didn't care to. He just wanted to be home. … Hermione emerged from Teddy's room, clutching Fellowship of the Ring to her chest. She ached. Through and through. She tried to be strong for Teddy, tried to keep up the pretense of normalcy when every little daily habit felt lonesome and cold. Every night they read. She and Teddy would sit against the headboard, taking turns reading aloud, and Harry would stretch out over the rest of the bed, providing commentary and sound effects for Teddy's amusement. Lord of the Rings just wasn't as funny without Harry. She wanted him back. She hadn't slept in a week and as frustrating as the lack of contact from Harry or the Auror Office was, no news was the only good news she had. And normally, she was fine. Well, better, anyway. But it was nearly 3 weeks past when he was due to return, and putting on a brave face got steadily more difficult. She sighed, and went to her room to get ready for bed. Standing in the shower, she tried to think which book she wanted to read before bed…tried to convince herself that she wanted to read at all. When she couldn't justify standing under the hot stream any longer, she got out, toweled off, and began brushing her hair. … The gash in Harry's side had coagulated, and the one on his right arm had nearly stopped bleeding. His partly rashed, partly shredded knuckles seemed to scream in protest as he curled his fingers around the doorknob and pushed through. … Hermione sat up straight, distracted from a particularly stubborn knot in her hair by the sound of the front door opening. She clambered off the bed and rushed to the entry. "Harry James -!" She was rounding a corner when she saw him. Bloodied and gashed and exhausted. She gasped, "Oh, Harry!" "Don't worry, Hermione," he smiled wryly, "It's all cosmetic – no real damage." Hermione was not amused. How dare he waltz back in looking like he'd been in a cage fight with a Hungarian Horntail and pretend like all was well. "Harry James Potter! You are impossible!" she fumed, marching up to him, "I know you're on a mission but couldn't you find some way to let us know you were alive? That you'd be longer than you planned? You had poor Teddy petrified he'd be fatherless all over again!" "Hermione, I-" "No! Harry, you had me worried sick! I can't believe –" … As Hermione ranted on, Harry didn't quite get most of the words, but he saw her swiping at angry tears, and how she wouldn't come close to him. She marched around, swooped in and withdrew, but never touched him. She wasn't really angry with him at all. If she was properly angry, she'd be jinxing him and pounding her fists against his chest. So, he strode towards her, and as she raised a hand to keep him away, he pushed her wrist away gently, and kissed her. Once she stopped trying to hit him, she held to him as if her very existence depended upon it. Harry

grinned, pulling back, "It's nice to see you too." Her insistence that she hated him was made less effective by the hiccough-sob combination that interrupted it. … "Hagrid's Umbrella! How did you manage this one!" Hermione asked, looking more closely at the gash on his side and reaching for ointment. "Er…that one was my own fault. I had one in front of me and one to the side. Based on what little I could make out of their incantations, I decided to block the curse from the side, and I narrowly missed the one from the front – I jumped out of the way and scraped up against a bloody rock." He grimaced as the cleansing ointments stung, waiting for the cool sensation that accompanied Hermione's frequent soothing charms. … Hermione saw a lot of blood. Plenty of things a great deal more severe than Harry's 'cosmetic' damage. And she knew that Harry was no stranger to injury, but each time he returned the worse for wear, her legs shook and her throat stopped up like a first year Healing intern. "I'm sorry I couldn't get word to you…about it being longer than planned," Harry said quietly. "Harry, I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry…It's just that –well, you know me – I worry." "Still. I am sorry." She muttered a soothing charm over the ragged skin and bandaged it quickly. "All right – hands?" Harry sat up, offering them. "Oh!" Hermione clasped her hands over her mouth. She'd thought the other injuries were ugly. "Oh my…" "Yeah…Sorry," Harry said apologetically, "I think I got some blood in your hair…earlier." … Harry watched her gaze flicker from his hands to his face, horrified. "Hermione? Are you all right?…the muscles and everything are fine, it just looks bad." She shook her head, eyes shutting tight. "Would you like me to go to St. Mungo's?" he asked gently. Hermione breathed deeply after a few moments, and exhaled, "No…I'll take care of it," She got up, and without looking at him, went to her medicine cupboard. She returned with several bowls floating beside her. Harry acquiesced as she took his hand gingerly and sent a stream of water over his hand to clean out the debris, and then set it in a bowl of what he could only assume was Murtlap Essence. But Hermione didn't speak or look away from her work. Eventually, when both his hands were resting in bowls, and the sting was starting to dissipate, Harry cleared his throat. Hermione paused in cleaning her Healing equipment, and looked at him. "Yes?" "Are you all right?" She smiled sadly. "I don't like seeing you hurt." "I can start going to hospital before I come home, if you like…" "No," she shook her head, "It's fine…really, I prefer you coming here. I know I'm a good Healer, and I feel safer knowing nothing will be overlooked." "But if it distresses you…" "Before you come home, I wonder if the injuries will be worse than the last," Hermione stated calmly, "…wonder about the day when I can't cure you at home with Murtlap essence and disinfectant potions…wonder about the days you'll be confined to some bed in St. Mungos…I can't bear feeling like I wont be enough to take care of you." "You are, Hermione, you're the best there is," he said, wishing he could take a hold of her like he usually did when she worried. "I can't fix everyone, Harry. And I can't lose you. Not now, not after so much." Harry swallowed a heavy sigh, and waited for Hermione to look at him. When she did, he kept his voice gentle and even, and asked, "Hermione…do you want me to find different work? I'm sure I could find a teaching post…or, I'm qualified to move up in rank…I'd be home more, and involved in the planning and intel rather than the actual missions." Hermione looked as if she might cry, and kissed him, then hugged his neck, breathing against the sensitive skin. And he loved Hermione, but something in his heart cracked, until her whispered reply. "Oh goodness, Harry. Don't you dare give up all you worked at for my sake." "But Teddy –" "-knows he has the bravest fathers in the world. You're his idol, Harry." "Thank you, Hermione." "Just keep coming home to

me," she insisted, curling against him and tracing the designs on his shirt. "I don't care how battered or bruised, as long as you make it home." "I'll do my best," he promised, and kissed her head.

#harry x hermione #harmione #hhr #harry and hermione #harmony

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house-of-galathynius · 2 years

Text

Sacred Heart - Chapter Nine

Chapter Eight

4.7k words

Song of the chapter: Keeping Your Head Up - Birdy

Aelin arrived at the hospital an hour later. She had dropped Maia off at her parents and had managed to avoid any questions about Rowan before she had peeled out of their drive and made her way to Orynth General.

When she entered the hospital it took her a moment to find someone who could help her, but she eventually enlisted the help of a nurse who directed her to the maternity ward. When Aelin found the war and rounded the corner she found a pacing Aedion, his brow was furrowed and he would look up to the door every so often.

Aelin approached him, laying a hand on his arm to stop his moving for a moment. “Why aren’t you inside with her?”

Aedion breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her and then brought her in for a hug. “Thank God you’re here.”

She pulled away, “what’s happening?” She glanced at the door briefly then back to Aedion.

He sighed deeply and then ran a hand through his hair. “She’d been having contractions all morning. But she didn’t think I needed to know because she thought they might have been Braxton Hicks so she didn’t say anything. She’s a lot further along in labour than we thought.”

Aelin’s eyes widened slightly. Trust Lysandra to deal with the pain on her own because she didn’t want to worry anyone. “So what did the doctor say?”

Aedion’s face relaxed ever so slightly. “Luckily, he said that everything was normal and the baby sounded strong. So even though it’s two weeks early things should be fine. He also said that labour was progressing fast so we could expect a short delivery.”

Aelin was relieved at that. She was glad that Lysandra would have an easier time of it than Aelin had. She had been seven days overdue and eventually had to be induced and even with that and all the drugs under the sun to help with the pain and speed things up, she had still had to have a c-section and had been in agony. In the end Aelin’s labour had been well over twenty hours.

She looked to Aedion again as there was a groan from inside the room. Aelin flinched slightly and then asked again, “why aren’t you in there with her?”

“She kicked me out. She said I was being annoying.”

Aelin laughed at that, but turned serious again a second later. “I’m sure she wants you in there.”

Aedion shrugged. “I just want her to be comfortable. If I annoy her then it’s best I stay out here.”

Aelin shook her head lightly. “She might say she wants you out… but trust me. The last thing you want is to be giving birth on your own. She needs your support and a hand to squeeze, go back in.”

Aedion hesitated. “Will you be okay?”

Aelin nodded. “I’ll be fine. But your wife is about to push a human out of her.” She basically shoved Aedion to the door and when he entered Aelin quickly stuck her head in to say hello to Lysandra— although her friend was far too preoccupied to really respond.

Aelin left the two of them and eventually found a seat where she placed herself and got to messaging her mum and dad to say things were going well, and then she messaged Elide to let her know that it was happening. No one responded straight away so instead Aelin sat there and just watched the world go by.

She had always been fascinated with the way that hospitals were— although she hated when she had to be in hospital. But there was something almost strange about them. Time seemed to slow when you were inside; the bright, clinical lights and the beeping of machines made it feel like a different world.

Aelin let her mind drift a while, not keeping track of how long she sat there for. She figured it wouldn’t hurt to get up and stretch her legs and move around a little. She was on the edge of her seat gathering her things together, when she was momentarily distracted by a young girl who had just come in. She can’t have been more than twenty years old but she was crying and holding her stomach as she was pushed through the hallway by a nurse. When she passed Aelin the two of them made eye contact briefly. Aelin was taken aback at the utter sadness in the girls eyes— it shook her.

And she knew why… Because Aelin had been that same girl five years ago.

Aelin had— as per doctors orders— been spending the last few weeks of her pregnancy on the sofa or in bed, resting. She had high blood pressure and the doctors wanted Aelin to rest as much as possible. Which in many ways was totally fine… except the fact that she was now one week overdue and sitting inside doing nothing was starting to bore her.

She had knitted too many hats and too many cute little cardigans for her baby girl. She had sewn dresses and little onesies and honestly she didn’t think the drawers could fit anymore clothes in them.

So on day four past her due date, she decided that she had had enough and was going to go for a walk. Aelin had been googling all the things she could do to get labour started and this was going to be day one of her trying. Spicy food had been ordered and she was going to do exercise and whatever else it took to get this baby out of her.

So for the next three days, she lived on spicy food, going for walks and doing yoga in her living room all in an attempt to speed things up. But by day seven she really was sick of it all and nearly cried with joy when the doctor had called and said there was an opportunity for her to go in and be induced. She had practically shouted her yes down the phone and in her hurry to leave had forgotten to take her hospital bag with her.

It was just a normal Monday on the sixth of February when she drove herself to the hospital— she had felt like a burden enough to her parents these past months— so she didn’t want to ask them to take her.

She parked her car and with no urgency and with an odd sense of calm, she made her way into the hospital and checked herself in.

It was quiet in the halls as she made her way to the maternity ward. She could hear the faint cries of other woman who were giving birth and she swallowed nervously as it started to hit her— soon she would be a mother, she would have another person who would rely on her and depend on her forever.

She passed a couple who were grinning from ear to ear as they carried their newborn baby down the hallway that Aelin had just come from. The two of them were holding hands and smiling and it made Aelin’s chest ache at the love they seemingly shared. It ached deep inside her because she did not have that— not anymore.

Her mood turned as she was led into the empty hospital room. The walls were bare, as was the rest of the room. The bed was made neatly and on top lay the gown that she would need to put on. Aelin had nothing to unpack, she only had the clothes on her back and that was it.

The nurse noticed this. ��Is there someone you’d like us to call?”

Aelin shook her head. “I’m fine.”

The nurse looked skeptical but nodded anyway, retreating from the room for a moment whilst Aelin changed.

It must’ve been an hour of Aelin scrolling on her phone before another nurse came into the room and explained what the procedure would be. They would induce her and monitor the contractions and the baby and hope that everything went smoothly.

Aelin merely nodded along and she let the doctor come in and tried to relax as they did their thing. She didn’t care that they were giving her pitying glances or that the nurse kept asking if there was anything she could do or anyone she could call. She didn’t care that she was all alone because in her heart the only person she really wanted here was Rowan. But he was gone. He had left and was never coming back.

The tear that escaped she quickly wiped away and when the nurse asked again if she was okay, she lied and told her it was the pain— although there was none.

She had to admit that it was lonely sitting in the hospital. Her waters had been broken four hours ago and there had been no progression. She had been lying on the hospital bed and scrolling through her phone and it didn’t feel real. She had been waiting nine months to meet her daughter, she had spent a good part of those nine months on her sofa or in bed crying for what she had lost. And even now, even though the pain of the heartbreak had subsided a little bit more, she still felt the sting of it every so often.

And it didn’t help that the nurses had left her door wide open; so every now and then she would see the happy couples walking out of the hospital, smiles on their faces as they would look down at their newborn with such love and adoration. And Aelin had this sense of guilt in her… because she wasn’t sure she would be able to give her daughter that happy family life and it pained her.

Another three hours passed and there was still no sign of any progress. The doctors had indicated that if there was no visible change in the next two hours then they would need to start considering a c-section. At that, Aelin shook her head violently.

“No. I don’t want a c-section.”

The doctor looked at her sadly. “Unfortunately if the baby doesn’t want to come out naturally and we leave you like this for too long, we start to see complications. The safest route is to do a c-section. But I can promise you that it is a safe procedure and you’ll be just fine.”

She sniffed and wiped away the tears. “I really don’t want one.”

The doctor smiled gently. “We’ll see how it goes.”

And then he was gone.

She was left to her own devices again. The only sounds were the beeping of the heart rate monitor next to her and the faint murmuring of voices in the hallway. She could have sworn she heard the crying of a baby too.

It can’t have been much longer when there were loud, fast sounding footsteps coming down the hallway and suddenly her parents and Aedion appeared in the doorway. The three of them each had varying stages of anger on their faces, but none of them said a word as they strode in the room and her mother embraced her.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Her mother said, stroking her head and then placing a kiss on her forehead.

Aelin shrugged. As if this was just an everyday occurrence and not a big deal. “I was fine on my own.” Her voice was flat, no emotion in it. Much like it had been since that fateful day.

Aedion tutted and closed her hospital door. “You should have said you were coming in. Imagine my surprise when I came over to have dinner with you and you were gone.”

Aelin didn’t know what to say.

“What if something had happened?” Her mother said quietly next to her, still giving comforting strokes down her hair.

Her father had placed himself in a chair and was watching Aelin silently. She knew he would be waiting for an answer but she didn’t know what to tell him… to tell any of them. They wanted the truth from her, but she was scared that once they knew how she was really feeling they would pity her more than they already do. That if they knew the truth it would break their hearts just like hers. If she told them that she was in the darkest place and didn’t know how to find the light again… she knew that her father and Aedion would find Rowan and make him pay. And though she yearned for him, she never wanted to see his face again.

“We just want to support you, Fireheart. We want to help you.”

“I know.” She whispered.

The four of them sat in silence for a while. It was different now that they were here. Aelin no longer felt the physical emptiness that had been hanging over her, and she knew deep down that she would one day be thankful for their company and their support.

Aelin must have dozed off because she woke to excruciating pain, keeling over, gasping for breath as she held her stomach.

“Aelin?” Aedion was next to her in a second. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, one of her hands waving him away. “A contraction.” She managed to get out.

He didn’t relax, even when a nurse came in again and examined her before confirming that she was dilated slightly more but still not enough. The nurse glanced at the clock and looked at her notes.

“You’ve been in for over fourteen hours. I know you would like to wait, but unfortunately I don’t think that is going to be a possibility anymore. We will keep monitoring the baby and put off a c-section as long as we can, but if anything changes we have to go in.”

Aelin nodded in understanding. Silently praying to herself that her daughter would hurry up.

The nurse did a couple more tests and then went on her way, but not before giving a warning to her parents and Aedion about keeping an eye on her.

Five hours later, Aelin hadn’t managed to get another minute of sleep. Contractions had been coming more intensely and she hoped it was a good sign. But the doctor just shook his head. “We’re going to have to do it now, Aelin. The baby’s heartbeat is starting to slow and your blood pressure is becoming a worry to us. If we wait any longer I fear we may be too late.”

Aelin sucked in a shaky breath and with tears running down her cheeks kept shaking her head.

Her mother was beside her in an instant and holding her hand. “It’ll be alright. I can come in with you and we can do this together.”

“N-no. I don’t want anyone there.”

Her mother was taken aback for a moment but then nodded once. Understanding that Aelin would not budge, that this was something Aelin wanted to— and maybe needed to— do on her own.

Aelin was wheeled into the operating theatre and she was given more pain relief as the doctors prepped her and reassured her that everything would be fine.

At this point Aelin wasn’t sure whether everything would be fine. She had lost control of her entire life and now here she was in the operating room, alone. She was about to become a single mother and it was the scariest moment of her life.

Aelin didn’t know where the pain started and where it ended. All she knew was that every fibre of her body was screaming out. She was closing her eyes and squinting and all she wanted in that moment was Rowan to be there and hold her hand.

She wanted him beside her to witness their daughter being born. She needed his bright smile and contagious laugh. She needed his awful jokes and his not-so-inspirational pep talks, because even though they never made sense, they always made her feel better. She wanted his hand in hers, to feel the gentle squeeze of reassurance to know he was there.

But all she got was the cold, sterile, gloved hand of the nurse who was only able to offer her small smiles and gentle words of encouragement that did nothing to ease the fear.

Aelin counted the minutes on the clock to the side of her. She watched as the second hand ticked around, every minute that went by, a minute closer to becoming a mother.

And when she heard the first cry of her daughter and the cheer of the doctors and nurses she couldn’t help but let the tears fall down her cheeks in rivers. Her hand shook as she released it from the nurses and wiped at her eyes, but the tears didn’t stop. Not as the doctor cut the chord and then handed her little girl to her. It was messy and her daughter was screaming like there was no tomorrow; but she was here and she was healthy.

She cradled the little bundle in her arms and choked on a sob when her little girl opened her eyes the tiniest amount and looked at her.

Aelin turned her head to the side and her heart sank when she realised that he wasn’t there. Rowan wasn’t here.

Her breathing was ragged as she turned back to her baby. “I’m going to love you so much, Maia.” The name came out of nowhere, but it seemed right. Aelin brought her hand up to Maia’s cheek and brushed a finger down it. “My little snowdrop.”

Aelin was pulled out of her own mind when Elide snapped a finger in front of her face and called her name.

Aelin smiled apologetically. “Sorry, lost in my own world.”

Elide rolled her eyes knowingly and took a seat next to her. “Any updates?”

She shook her head. “Doctors say it’ll be any time now. She’s progressing fast.”

“I’m so excited. I love babies. There’s something about them that is just so adorable.”

Aelin nodded half-heartedly and caught the eye of a passing doctor. Aelin was turning back to Elide when she noticed the same doctor coming back towards them.

“How’s your daughter doing now?”

Aelin was confused for half a second before she realised why he had looked familiar. He had been the same doctor who had seen to Maia. She didn’t remember him being that handsome when she had seen him last time… but maybe it was the panic of Maia being in hospital that had prevented her from noticing.

Aelin smiled up at him. “Oh, she’s fine. Back to normal basically.”

He smiled back and Aelin felt herself blush a little. “That’s good to hear. I hope she got some of the ice-cream she mentioned.” He laughed.

Aelin laughed too and nodded. “I don’t think I would’ve survived the day if she hadn’t.”

She felt Elide nudge her slightly, but she ignored it and focused on the incredibly handsome man stood in front of her.

“So if everything is okay with your daughter, what brings you back?”

“She wanted to get your number.” Elide said quickly.

Aelin’s eyes widened and she turned to her friend who was grinning like crazy. She could feel her face getting hot. “I’m here because my friend is having a baby.” She said through gritted teeth, then turning to glare at Elide.

Doctor-man chuckled and Aelin would be lying if she didn’t admit at how sexy it sounded. And with him in his scrubs… he really did look amazing.

“Is she in room two hundred?”

They both nodded.

“Baby boy arrived about…” he checked his watch, “three minutes ago.”

The two girls looked at each other with wide eyes and jumped from their seats.

“What?” Aelin jumped up from her seat. “I swear she wasn’t that close.”

The doctor just laughed and shrugged helplessly. “Babies wait for no one.”

“Can we go in and see her?” Elide asked.

The doctor nodded. “Should be fine. You can double check with the nurses though.”

They both thanked him and then quickly walked over to the room. Aelin was trying not to scold Elide for her comment to the doctor about wanting his number. She didn’t even know where Elide had got that idea from— had Aelin told them about him? She didn’t remember saying a thing about him. She subtly glared at Elide, but she was already too busy fussing over the baby that was lying in the arms of Lysandra.

Aedion’s eyes were red but he was smiling ear to ear as he gazed at his son.

“Hey.” Lysandra said quietly, still grinning at her baby.

Aelin smiled gently back and she felt her heart swell with love as she finally laid her eyes on the little boy who was sleeping soundly in the arms of his mother.

“How was it?” Elide asked.

Lysandra sighed happily. “It was amazing and beautiful and I couldn’t be happier.”

Aelin was looking to Aedion who was looking at Lys like she was the most incredible woman in the world. His eyes so full of love that it was almost too much to watch.

She turned away and back to the little one. “Do you have a name?”

Lys glanced to Aedion and they shared a secret smile. “We do.”

There was a pause in the room. “His name is Theodore Gavriel Ashryver.”

Aelin could have cried. Aedion’s father had died when he was just ten years old and she knew that his death had affected him more than he had ever let on. To honour his father in such a way was beautiful.

“Theo for short.” Aedion added.

“It’s the perfect name.” Elide whispered.

Aelin nodded in agreement, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the boy. He was so small against Lysandra and his little hands were balled into tight little fists. And when Aelin looked to Lysandra she was transported back to the feelings she had when she finally got to hold Maia in her arms— the pure joy and love that she had felt— it was something that she would never forget, and she could see those same feelings in Lys.

They all stepped back when a nurse came in and announced they needed to do some more checks on Lysandra and that they could return shortly. Elide and Aelin exited the room and waited in the corridor. Aelin was quiet as she mulled over everything. There was something in the air of the hospital that made her pensive and she couldn’t help but play over the last couple of days in her mind— from Rowan finding out about Maia, to the kiss, to this morning when she had made the decision to let everything go.

Elide nudged her lightly and Aelin looked up and the doctor was stood in front of her again. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand and he didn’t say anything as he handed her the folded sheet and smiled warmly at her before walking away.

“What is it?” Elide asked.

Aelin shrugged and unfolded the paper. Her cheeks heated when she saw his name scribbled across the top and underneath a number— his number.

She promptly folded it back up and gave Elide a half smile. “Just something the hospital had forgotten to give me when I was here with Maia.”

Elide looked skeptical, but didn’t push it further.

The two of them eventually made it back into the room and spent a good part of the day taking it in turns to hold Theo and then Aelin’s parents turned up with Maia who was more than excited to meet her new (kind of) cousin. Aelin had helped Maia get comfortable in a chair before helping her hold Theo carefully in her arms— and damn her if she didn’t suddenly feel the urge to give Maia a sibling.

By the time visiting hours were over, Lysandra was fast asleep, Theo beside her. Aedion was lounging in a chair just watching them both. The group who had gathered around them decided it was probably best to leave them be for the night and they all parted ways, promising to come back tomorrow.

Aelin, whilst sad to be leaving, was actually relieved when she finally came home. It was late enough that Maia had fallen asleep in the car and all she had to do was carry her inside before tucking her into bed quietly before Aelin went back downstairs.

She felt exhausted, but wide awake at the same time. She eventually made herself comfortable on the sofa with a cup of tea and then as she was sitting there sipping on it, she pulled the note out of her pocket.

Reuben Brooks

His number was scribbled in pen just below and she blushed.

How long had it been since she had actually felt herself blushing at something a man had done? Excluding Rowan, it had been years since she had felt any sort of feeling inside her for another person.

She stared at the number for a while. Was she really going to text him?

Her answer came when Elide’s name flashed on her phone and Aelin almost groaned when she saw Elide’s encouraging words. Aelin had known she would never believe he handed her something about Maia— and this proved it.

You should definitely message him. He’s HOT. And he’s a doctor.

Then another came through as she was reading.

Lorcan says it’s been too long since you’ve been with someone and he’s bored of Aedion so you should find someone so he can hang out with someone new.

Aelin snorted and locked her phone, ignoring the texts coming through.

Her rule had always been to never get attached. If she met a guy on a night out then she would allow a night, maybe two. On the rare occasion she had really clicked with them she might let them take her out on a date— but she never let them into her life fully. She would never tell them about Maia nor would she let her daughter know about them either.

The guys she met were usually all young and they would be put off by the fact she had a child. The other part of it was that Aelin didn’t want to confuse Maia. Even if things were going well with someone, she never trusted them to let it last long… she was scared that Maia would get attached to them too and then when things inevitably ended, Aelin would have to explain to Maia and it was too much— too complicated.

But Rueben…

He knew she had a daughter. He was clearly older than her, he was a qualified doctor which meant he was serious about life and had bigger responsibilities other than partying. He hadn’t shied away from Aelin and had been the one to initiate whatever this was.

Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Maybe she should actually do what she had told herself that morning and move on with her life. Rather than letting herself be alone for the rest of her life and hold all that anger for Rowan.

She panicked a second. What would Rowan think?

She shook off the thought. It didn’t matter what he thought anymore. She wasn’t going to let his confusing signals make life hard for her. She had to get over it. Get over him.

She picked up her phone again and unlocked it, going to her messages and entering Rueben’s number.

She hesitated half a second before she started to type.

She read back her message and then cursed before deleting it. She needed to just keep it simple. No long winded message, simple and easy was all it needed.

She blew out a breath and then started typing again.

Hey Reuben. It’s Aelin… from the hospital (in case you were confused). Just thought I’d message and say thanks for looking after Lysandra today, your help was appreciated.

She didn’t give herself time to think about the awkward tone of the message. She hovered her finger over send and then closed her eyes as she tapped it and heard the whoosh of the message sending.

It was only a few minutes later when her phone pinged again and her heart fluttered as she saw his name.

Hey Aelin from the hospital. I was just doing my job. But glad she is doing well :)

Bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen and Aelin held her breath.

So I’m just going to be blunt and get to the point… would you like to go out sometime?

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