#and especially the last chapter was me writing out what i needed to believe. i distinctly recall thinking 'maybe this is too idealistic.'

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii - Part II"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x singlemom!Oc

Theme: fluff, angst

N/A: And here is part two, I hope it lives up to your expectations. I would like to thank each like, comment, reblog, and ask about this imagine. I'm happy that you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I love seeing your reactions. Again, this chapter turned out huge, but I needed every part to make sense. I hope you enjoy it and fall a little more in love with these three.

Warnings: Men being inconvenient in this chapter, people making a child cry.

Pedri was in a mood; he was training alone in the academy because Gavi did him a favor by opening up to the entire team about his meeting with the woman from the nightclub, who turns out to work for Barça. And now all of the guys were messing with him, especially after Gavi spilled about the ring that was shining on her finger. Seriously, Gavi needs to return playing ASAP because Pedri can't deal anymore with the boy gossip phase.

"Are you sad today?" The little boy asked the player, taking his attention from the movie he was watching on his iPad. "I can bring M&Ms for us; Mom put some packages in her purse, I think she's sad too," he says pouting.

"I'm fine, buddy, just focused. But why is your mother sad? Did something happen?" Pedri asked curiously. In one of the many conversations he had with the little boy, he discovered that the little boy's mother worked for the team, but Pedri hadn't had the opportunity to meet her yet.

"I don't know; Father is supposed to take me this week. Then he screams at her and then at me, and they fight." Pedri swallows the knot in his throat as he sees the little boy's eyes watering; something hurts inside him for seeing the little boy like that.

"You know, those M&M's we were craving for, we finally get to have them," he says in an attempt to cheer up the little boy.

"No way, for real??" He jumped excitedly, and Pedri smiled at him.

"I swear. I'm going with Gavi after the training to get them." Pedri fixed the cap on Axel's head.

"You guys aren't going to eat them without me, right?" He pointed the finger at Pedri, trying to make an angry face.

"What, of course not? I'll bring them for you tomorrow, and also, I wouldn't eat them with Gavi; I'm angry at him," Pedri says as he starts to get his things ready to leave the academy.

"Why?" Axel asks curiously.

"Because he has a big mouth," the boy gasped, looking at Pedri.

"So he would eat everything," Axel says, worried, and Pedri laughs at his reaction.

"Yeah, something like that, buddy."

*****************************************

"Axel, I swear, it's been days since the last time I gave you candy; you shouldn't be this energetic," Isa asked as she watched her child jump from one chair to another. The boy stops, with a little smile on his face, and then back to his jumping games. Isa looks suspiciously at her child.

"Axel..." She calls, getting close to the boy. "You didn't eat any candy, right?" She holds the boy, stopping him from jumping anymore. He looks at her, his head tilts to the side, and a mischievous smile emerges on his little face, the dimples in his cheeks showing up. "Axel Harver," she says unbelievably as she starts to tickle him, his laughs getting louder and louder.

"Mom, stop. Please stoooop, Moooommy." She lets him go, letting him catch his breath.

"Little boy, little boy. I already told your grandfather not to give you too many candies." She kisses his head.

"It was for my friend; I couldn't let him eat alone," the boy said simply, and she smiled at him. Sometimes she couldn't believe how smart he was for his young age.

"No, you couldn't," she smiles, looking at the time on her watch; it was time to go home.

"Get your things; it's time for us to go home." The little boy ran to get his bag.

"Can we stop by Pops?" He asked excitedly.

"Of course, it's been two days since the last time you saw him; you guys are probably getting sick already," she says ironically at the boy, who had his grandfather on his little finger.

"He says that I could start Barça school after my birthday, so I'll be a La Masia boy, mom." The boy says excitedly as they walk towards the parking lot. He and his grandfather had been planning that moment for over a year; the excitement of both was evident. Honestly, Isa was still insecure about the idea of him wanting to be a player; she was too jealous for that, and modestly aside, her son was adorable, he would definitely get some attention. "You think I could play with my friend?" She looks down at her son.

"Well, probably, he's going to Barça school too?" She asked, as she had heard more than once about this friend of his.

"No, in the first team," he says simply. She looks confused at him.

"Well, I think it would take time for you both to be there; maybe you even change your mind about being a player." Her boy made a disgusted face.

"Axel, you are having so much attitude lately."

"But he's already there," he ignores what she is saying. She stops, looking at him.

"Wait, in the first team? Your friend?" The boy nodded happily. "The friend you spend the day with?" He nodded again, as his little eyes focused on something behind her.

"Are you befriending the players?" She asks, but she doesn't get his attention, as he seems to focus on the thing behind her before she can turn to see what he's looking at. He snaps out of his trance.

"Pedriiii!" he screams, and he runs away from her. She was pretty sure that her eyes were going to pop out as she heard the name. She then turned to see where her boy was going, catching a glimpse of him jumping excitedly into the player's arms.

"You've got to be kidding me," she says to herself.

*****************************************

"That friend of Aurora's is really into you," Gavi says to Pedri, who rolls his eyes. "You should give her a chance."

"I'm not interested; she's not my type." Gavi smiled wide at his friend, ready to comment, but was cut off by the boy who jumped at Pedri.

"Hi Pedri, hi Gavi." The little boy high-fived the two players.

"Hey little guy, no Gavi shirts today?" Gavi asked, getting an eye roll from Pedri.

"No. My mother said I should wear other clothes from time to time," he says with a sad smile, receiving a laugh from both players. "Are you going to get my candy?"

"Yes, I will. Are you here alone?" Pedri asked worriedly. He was used to meeting the boy alone inside the training center or the stadium, but the thought of the little boy running alone by the parking lot gave him shivers.

"Nooo, with mommy, Silly," he says, laughing as if Pedri had told him the funniest joke. Before Pedri could look around to search for the child's mother, his senses were clouded by the familiar scent of perfume that had been stuck in his mind for the past few days.

"Axel, what have I told you about running away from me like that? You can't let go of my hand on the street," the woman said in a sweet yet reprimanding voice.

"I know, Mom, but I had to talk to my friend," the little boy says in an even sweeter voice as he hugs the woman's legs. Pedri was absorbed in their interaction, while the woman's eyes stared at him. He simply couldn't believe it.

"Hi, Isa. Cute kid you have; now I can see the similarities," Gavi was the one to break the silence.

"Thanks, Pablo; he is the cutest." Pedri saw her eyes shine proudly as she looked at the boy, and honestly, Pedri felt dizzy.

"Hey, Pedri. I need to take my mother home and take her to a place," Gavi calls for Pedri.

"Ok, Let's Go! Bye Axel," Pedri wave a quick good bye to the little one, ignoring his mother.

"NO! You can't come, it's personal," Gavi says almost desperately, getting an intrigued look from Pedri.

"Gavira, I spent months taking you to every place; you owe me," Pedri says feeling annoyed as he watches his teammate head to his car.

"Sorry, brother. Ask one of the boys."

"We can take you!" The little voice says behind him. "Right mom, right? We can take him, pleeeease, we can take him, riiiiight?" He says as he jumps, pushing his mother's blazer, whose face was getting red.

"I don't know, we are going to Pops, and he probably doesn't want it."

"Of course he wants," Gavi says almost screaming.

"Aren't you leaving?" The three ask at the same time to the youngest, who looks amused as he gets in his car, leaving the parking lot.

"So you're coming with us, right? Right, mommy?" The woman only nodded, taking the kid in her arms and heading to her car. Pedri follows right beside them; he watches as she puts the little boy in the car seat.

"Axel, stop moving," she murmurs at the chatty boy. Once she finishes fixing it, she takes a step back, expecting to close the door, but ends up bumping into Pedri, who was holding the door. With a push, he closes the door, trapping Isa between him and the car. He takes a breath watching her beautiful face, but then he remembers something that was bugging his mind.

"Is your husband coming with us?" He says in a hushed tone just for her to hear. She opens her mouth to reply but nothing comes out; she brushes past Pedri and gets into the car. Pedri runs his hands through his face; he would kill Gavira.

"Aren't you getting in? We are late," she says annoyingly after rolling down the car window. Pedri grumbles and heads for the passenger door.

*****************************************

There was so much tension inside the car, of course imperceptible to the little one who chatted incessantly in the back seat, telling things to his mother, asking questions to Pedri, and singing along to the songs playing on the radio. Despite the many conversations he had with the little one, Pedri hadn't realized how talkative he was; perhaps the presence of the other players made him feel shy. Pedri returned to his conversations with the boy, noticing the mannerisms he had and now could see how much he resembled his mother: the sweet way of speaking, the sweet and welcomed smile, the dimples on his cheeks when he smiled. Pedri was feeling something strange; the presence of the woman clouded his feelings.

"Pedriiiii," Axel's voice snapped his attention back. Pedri turned in his seat to face the younger one.

"Yes, buddy?"

"Mommy is talking to you." The child pointed to the woman driving. Pedri redirected his focus to her, who glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to the road.

"You didn't tell us your address," she said calmly, the velvety tone of her voice sending shivers down Pedri's spine.

"Um, actually, you can drop me off at this store downtown," he showed her the address. "My brother will pick me up there."

"We can drop you home."

"No, I don't want to cause you any trouble," he couldn't help the sharpness in his tone, and he saw the woman wince and just murmur a little and almost inaudible 'ok'.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the candy store.

"Wait here for a minute," he told the woman, hurrying out of the car as quickly as he could to retrieve his order from the store.

*****************************************

"Oh my God, he's really going to get them," Isa looked at the back seat, seeing her son looking outside where the player walked towards a store, a fascinated look on his face.

"What, Axel?" She asked curiously, not used to Axel admiring someone else like that; normally, he was a shy child around strangers.

"Our candies," he said excitedly. "The ones we wanted but couldn't find, with different flavors."

"Did you ask him?" She turned to look at him, trying not to sound like she was reprimanding him.

"No, he wanted them too. And since I'm his friend, he's going to share them with me, because he likes me, Mom, he really likes me." Isa felt her throat tighten, and her eyes filled with tears. Words could hurt, especially when said to a child. She didn't know what to say to him, but the little boy's excitement comforted her heart.

"Here, buddy, we finally got them," the player gets into the car, snapping Isa out of her thoughts; she silently watches their interaction and how happy her son is. "Are you taking them to practice tomorrow?" Pedri asked as he stroked the child's cheek.

"YEEEEES!" Axel shouted excitedly.

"Alright, see you tomorrow then!" He said smiling at the little boy and then turned to the woman beside him. "Thanks for the ride."

"Thank you for this," she said honestly. "You have no idea what this means." The player furrowed his brows in confusion and then exited the car.

*****************************************

The feeling of returning to training with the rest of the team was a great relief, especially when there was the possibility of returning to play soon. Pedri felt ready; the medical department had already cleared him to drive, but they still wanted to postpone his return to the fields. And as eager as he was, he wanted to follow the guidance of the professionals. But still, knowing that he could return to playing soon gave him extra motivation in his recovery.

Pedri was eager to share the news with his little friend, who longed for his return even more than he did himself, but it had been almost a week since the last time he saw the boy. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he missed the boy running to meet him after training. He thought about asking about him to the boy's mother, but every time he saw her, the ring gleamed on her finger. Pedri didn't want to make a big deal out of it; after all, it was a one-night stand, but he couldn't deny that he was affected. The remnants of that night were vivid in his mind, and knowing that the woman was committed spoiled the images for him.

"You know, for someone who wants to seem indifferent, you're terrible at hiding it," Gavi whispers beside him as they watch the woman approaching with the film crew.

"Hello, boys," she says with a sweet smile.

"Hello, Isa," Gavi greets excitedly and nudges his friend to do the same, but Pedri just nods slightly, which seems to frustrate the woman. She kept her gaze on the player's face, reading every detail as if searching for an opening to say something.

"Here are your lines," she says after a few minutes of silence, handing over the cue cards with the ready-made phrases they needed to record for the Barça One promotion. "It'll be quick," she says, moving behind the man handling the camera, and soon the rest of the crew went to prepare the players.

Gavi was the first to record, while Pedri amused himself watching. Gavi hated these kinds of activities, so something that could normally be quick ended up taking longer because of him. Pedri's attention is stolen when his eyes fall on the woman, who is watching the recordings while making some notes in a notebook and speaking to the cameraman. As if sensing Pedri's eyes, she turns to face him and then walks slowly towards him, stopping by his side.

"You said you didn't know who I was that night," the player says quietly so only the woman can hear him. She looked back at him, her confidence in facing him as if challenging him bringing back memories.

"Are you talking to me now?" She asks in an ironic tone. "And I never said I didn't know who you were, I just said I didn't care," she says convincingly, and there it was, the sharp tongue and tone from that night, the player thought.

"That's not how it seemed, just like the part about being married," Pedri smiles proudly having retorted in the same tone, but the woman's furious look makes the smile disappear.

"It's not like that, and if you didn't keep avoiding me every time I show up, you'd know," she turns her attention back to Gavi's recording.

"You just had to say 'Hey, I have a husband,' it's not that hard," he says as he moves away from her."

*****************************************

Isa didn't want to go out that night, in weeks like that she gets in a terrible mood, there were right and wrong days, and that was a wrong one. But her work friends were eager for a night out , and they kept saying how good it would be for her since she was an ocean of anxiety. So there she was, sitting in the bar watching her friends dancing excitedly, she didn't want to go dance, not yet at least, she still wasn't feeling at her best to enjoy the night like that.

"Hey doll, can I buy you a drink?" A man comes to her side, she looks at him uninterested.

"No, thanks," she says simply, backing at watching her friends.

"C'mon, it's just a drink." He holds her arm getting close to her face.

"I don't want it." she says firmly.

"Oh, don't play hard to get," he touched her hair. "you are too pretty to be here alone." He insisted with a flirtatious smile.

"She's not here alone." The familiar voice cut before she could answer the man. "Take your hands out of my girlfriend" he says in a warning tone, making the woman gasp, Isa looks around to see if there are eyes on them, but for their luck, no one is paying attention.

"You? Her boyfriend? No way." The man laughs looking at Isa. "Aren't him like one of the Barça kids?" Isa saw Pedri's face turning red, and before he could answer she took him by the waist, getting him away from the inconvenient man.

****************************************

The moment he saw the woman enter the bar, he just knew that he shouldn't have accepted Ferran's invitation to the nightclub. Because from that moment, his attention were on her, just like the first night. He tried his best to try to look uninterested, he even tried to speak and dance with a girl who was in their VIP area. But his eyes kept stealing glances at the woman, and the moment he saw a man on her side, he made his choice, going right into her.

He didn't have the time to answer the man who called him a kid, he had an answer for that, a good one that Isa herself could confirm, but her hand putting him away was distracting, the power she had over him was driving him crazy.

"Barça would end us, especially me, if I let the image of one of their golden boys get messed up because of some nightclub confusion" Pedri looked at the woman's face, her big brown eyes were soft and just like always, were mapping all his face.

The people around them didn't seem to notice who he was especially how they weren't dancing to the rhythm of the music playing. Pedri's hand was over her waist going up and down, she passed her manicured hand by her hair and the action made the smell of her perfume travel to his nose, automatically he bent down to her neck, smelling her inebriated perfume, like someone addicted. The woman was blinding his senses. He thought that the remaining images of their night, which kept playing as a movie in his mind were just the carnal feeling of a good night, but now he was afraid that it was something more, since the fact that only the idea of watching her gets all his attention, and we're everything about her, literally everything.

"Let's get out of here" she murmurs in his ears.

He didn't answer, he only took her by the hand to get out of the club.

That's how they ended up in the hotel room again, they didn't talk, the actions of the desire were speaking for them, Pedri was tasting every piece of her, like a starving man, like it was the last thing he would do. And deep down he thought that maybe it was the last thing, cause a noise kept ringing in his mind, remember him about the ring on her finger. And that makes him snapped at realization, he took the woman's hand who was holding his hair as if she depended on it, and there was no signal of the commitment. He kisses her hand then her mouth, and then all over her breast. She kept murmuring and saying things he couldn't understand, her face was all messed up because of her red lipstick, and he was sure he had the vestiges in his face too.

"You remember what you said to me that night?" He asked her, her eyes looking at him with such intensity that he felt at his chest. She smiles, her cheeks getting more red.

"That you should stop flirting with me 'cause i was hard to forget." She said with a lazy smile as she kissed his face.

"Well you were right"

"I am always right, I said that too, when you call me an arrogant, knowing-all b*tch."

As Pedri was to answer, the woman's phone rang, she picked it up from the bedside table, and the name "Henry" showed on screen, making Pedri rudely distance himself from her. She rolls her eyes as she answers the call, and soon her face turns pale, Pedri watches her with worry.

"What happened? Baby..." She gets up from the bad, "Do not cry, please, don't cry. Mommy it's going to pick you up, my Axel." Her choked voice and the mention of the name make Pedri stand up and approach the woman, who was trembling nervously.

"Let me talk to someone," she says, Pedri stops in front of her. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH HIM? HE IS JUST A CHILD!" she screamed sterically, her voice full of pain, making Pedri holding her arms, and try to calm her down. "That always happens, every time, he's just a baby, and every time you guys do this to him." She goes silent for a moment, Pedri felt his heart beating so hard that he could hear the thuds echoing in his ears. "I'll go get him" she says firmly, " I don't care how late it is. I'm not leaving my son like this." She ends the call and then throws the phone on the bed, her hands covering her face as she collapses and cries uncontrollably. Pedri embraces her, his chest full of concern for the woman and the little boy.

"Isa, what happened? Is Axel hurt?" he asks.

"I need to go," she says, stepping away from the player.

"I'm coming with you" She pushed Pedri away.

"No, you're not, you don't need to." She says coldly.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere alone, not in this state," he says firmly as he gathers their things around the room. Isa looks at him with apprehension and suspicion. Pedri couldn't understand her action. He holds the door, waiting for her to leave the room, and then she huffs in frustration and follows him outside.

Once in the car, Pedri gives her his hoodie that was in the backseat of his car, as thanks to him, the woman's dress was ruined. He drives to the address she had given him, the journey in complete silence except for the sound of the woman typing incessantly on her phone. As they arrive at the destination, Isa takes a deep breath and then looks at the player.

"Pedri, please, promise me, no matter what you see or hear, you don't leave the car, understood? Or you'll make things difficult for me." The desperation in the woman's voice made Pedri's stomach sick; not knowing what was happening was making him desperate. "You'll make things difficult for Axel," she says before he could say anything. And, reluctantly, Pedri agrees with the woman, as he would never do anything to harm the child.

He watches as the woman gets out of the car and rushes into the yard of a house, calling out for Axel. A blond woman emerges from the house and points a finger at Isa. They engage in a heated discussion, but he cannot hear their words. Then he sees Isa push the woman and hastily enter the house. Everything falls silent for a few minutes, and his heart races so fast that he wonders how he hasn't had a heart attack yet. After a few minutes, he sees Isa emerging from the house, holding Axel in her arms. She walks briskly towards the car, with the blond woman following her, screaming insults. Isa quickly jumps into the car with Axel, and the back door closes behind them.

"You can go now," she says, and Pedri turns around to look at her. Her face is red from crying. Pedri starts the car and drives away, not knowing exactly where to go, but deciding to wait before asking as Isa is talking to Axel. "It's okay, love. You're okay now." She says in a calm voice, trying to calm down the little boy.

"I don't want to come back, I don't want to stay with them, they're all mean to me," he cried so hard that Pedri stopped the car, deeply concerned for the kid, as he had never seen him cry like that before.

"You don't have to, Mommy promises you won't go back there, at least if it's something you want." Pedri turns to look at them, observing the woman wiping the tears from the little one's face and giving him a tight hug. Their eyes meet, and Pedri sees so much pain in hers.

"What's going on? This is tearing me apart," he says as he gestures towards them.

"Pedriiii?" Axel spun so quickly to look at the player that Pedri feared he had snapped his neck. He leaped from Isa's arms to the front seat and hugged Pedri tightly. Pedri simply held him back, while Isa looked on in complete awe at her son's rapid change of mood.

"I'll finally be able to eat my candies," the little boy says with a sweet excited voice.

"Axel!!" Isa says laughing at the boy's innocence.

*********************************************

N/A: SOOOOOO, what did you guys think? Writing the last part, breaks my heart, because I know their situation, me being mean for not telling you guys 😏

So, the next chapter will be the penultimate one, and then there will be the final one, and then the bonus. As mentioned in the previous chapter. Of course, it all depends on how much the characters are talking to me as well...

#pedri gonzalez #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #pedri gonzalez x reader #pedri #barca #fc barcelona #gavi imagine #pablo gavi

[night-market-if]

┈──────────────────────┈

！﹒dear author, i really admire the way you do your storytelling. i’m going to be honest, at first i really didn’t like your take on interactive fiction. i finished book 01 and i was super frustrated by the ending, especially since i was a milo-mancer! i was used to reading IFs where the author’s tend to write the story to “satisfy a select group of player’s wants”, so playing the night market was completely different from the games i usually play. it wasn’t until i did a new play through with the previous perspective from the first play through in mind that i absolutely fell in LOVE with the story. it’s genuinely such a complex work. i really like how the MC is technically “the main character” (quite literally…) but you still make sure to focus on the CAST, too! thank you for responding (if you do) i hope you have an amazing day!

┈──────────────────────┈

i’m a newbie writer and i hope this isn’t invasive, but i would really like to know what process you went through to create “the night market” ! especially the characters and world building. how did you craft them? did it take a long time? since it’s interactive fiction, do you use a writing outline or method to help guide you through writing all the different paths?

those are all the questions i really have. you can respond with anything related to writing that you’re comfortable with sharing. i would just like to know about your writing planning in general, since i find it hard for me to really get started.

That is a really good way to put it. There are for sure stories that cater to a players wants. And I have always said that it is a valid form of storytelling and gaming. I just don't enjoy them as much so I won't enjoy writing it. Thank you so much for giving me another chance. I really appreciate it.

As for my process? I can give you my process and then firmly state that you should not use that process. LOL

I don't plan anything. I don't use any of the wonderful writing tools that are out there to keep chapters, lore, characters, world building, etc. I don't even know how things are going to end or what I'm going to write for each chapter. I am one of those writers that goes in blind and firmly believe that my characters tell the story. The only thing I can say that I do that probably helps me is write these characters a lot outside of the Night Market. I RP with them. I talk them out loud. I get to know them so well that they come to life when I'm writing and then I just let them wander.

Now that has of course bitten me in the ass before. Because I have had moments where I'll introduce something and then forget about it. Or realize much later that something should have gone in two chapters back. But, I learned a long time ago that if I storyboard anything out, I won't write it. The last two years is the most consistent writing I've ever done and I've been trying to write full blown stories for the last fifteen years of my adult life.

I don't recommend this process to people. I really really don't. But if you are someone that needs to have the story unfold for you as well, then maybe just try getting to know your characters enough. Because then you can put them in any situation and know exactly how they would respond.

#the night market #interactive fiction #twine game #twine if #writing process #i'm a chaos writer

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER ONE — THE POISE, INTEGRITY and LUCK OF A KENNEDY

MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: you go head-to-head with your new neighbor, eddie munson, and lose something precious to you in the process. content warnings: NSFW / MINORS DNI swearing, classic 80s classism, tommy hagan jumpscare, eddie munson jackin off word count: 3.4k

Dear reader, I wish I could tell you it ends well for you. 

I wish I could tell you that this is nothing but a bad dream, or a fugue state, or an extremely vivid hallucination brought on from that weed your friends buy from that burnout in the horrendous denim vest that is now your next door neighbor. 

I wish I could tell you that you’re not sitting on your designer suitcases in the weed-ridden lot of a trailer park, watching your mom (who is already it’s-five o’clock-somewhere drunk) charmlessly haggle about the rent. 

See, you used to have money, but now you don’t. 

You used to have a dad who wasn’t incarcerated, but now you don’t. 

You used to have integrity, but the IRS seized the last of that along with your childhood home in Loch Nora. 

I wish I could tell you that you weren’t totally fucked. But it seems that there’s no way this total shitheap of a situation could get worse–

“Need a little help with that?”

–except there is. There totally is.

You flex your hand, relieving it from it’s writing cramp. You’ve been hunched over your journal, perched on your ready-to-burst luggage for what seems like hours now– admittedly, you’re the kind of girl that’s used to valet service. Bellhops carrying your suitcases to your room when you used to join your dad on business trips. 

But valets never looked like this. Squinting at you from beneath his ratted-out waves, Eddie Munson gives you a once-over that makes your stomach lurch. You know him the same way everyone in Hawkins knows him– either barrelling through the hallways like a tweaked out autocrat whose only dominion is over his group of unwashed dorks or palming off baggies at parties. But there’s something about Munson that’s always rubbed you the wrong way. He’s so loud and defiant and achingly obvious, smug when he’s got no right to be. 

Especially now. 

“Excuse me?” you drawl, snapping closed the leatherbound journal. 

“Just wheeling out the welcome wagon. It’s not often we get new neighbors with so much…,” he pauses, gaze scanning over the boxes and bags and randomized ephemera being loaded out of the cheapest moving van Hawkins has to offer, “Shit.” 

“If I didn’t know any better, Munson, I’d say you were casing the joint.” In fact, you find yourself wondering where exactly your jewelry box is– y’know, the leftover shit your parents didn’t already pawn. The millieu of your grief made you forget about the high possibility of people in the trailer park stealing your stuff.

Munson grimaces. “Do I look like a thief to you?”

“You look like a drug dealer to me,” you snipe, smile all fake. “You might be looking to diversify your criminal skillset. How should I know?” 

From where you sit on your straining suitcase, you’re about eye-level with Eddie’s crotch. And call him a weirdo, call him whatever, he doesn’t mind the view. As much as he’d like to pretend he’s above the discordant buzz of Hawkins’ gossip scuttlebutt, news of your family’s downfall is hot shit. He can barely believe it’s really happening, and right in his front yard; Hawkins High’s stoniest, coldest fox and her equally foxy mom were packing their fur coats and shit into a double wide. Eddie couldn’t lie– he liked seeing people like you get knocked down a peg. So he’d come to gloat. A little. 

But you’re all snappy and full of venom– not like in school, where he’s almost positive you’ve never made eye contact with him.

He doesn’t mind that change in attitude either.

“C’mon. That luggage looks a little heavy for you, princess,” he says. “I don’t entirely trust you getting it inside the trailer without breaking a nail.” 

“I don’t need your help,” you say, shoving that tattered journal into your book bag. Eddie wonders what kind of bullshit you’re always writing in there– every time you’re not in the middle of some idiot milleu with your popular cohorts, you’re practicing your longhand. 

“You could use it, though,” he counters, and the condescension in his tone makes your cheeks flare up. You spring from your seat on the suitcase, making Munson take a shocked half-step back. His eyes blaze, rounding out as he takes you in at your full height. 

Still taller than you. He'll be okay. He thinks.

“I’m a goddamn cheerleader, you Neanderthal looking dipshit,” you spit, “I’ve got a core of steel.” 

You turn and dip, reaching for the thick leather handles of the case and discover–oof–that’s a little bit way heavier than you were expecting it to be. But spurned by sheer stubbornness and a need to get away from him as quickly as humanly possible, you brace yourself against the screaming muscles in your arms and wobble the baggage all the way to the trailer door. Your mom stands in your path, dress slipping off her shoulders, blearily looking toward the Munson kid as he retreats to his own trailer with a languid backwards tread. He can’t look away from this scene. 

“Mom. Mom, can I fucking–” you struggle through gritted teeth, “The bag, Mom. Get out of the way.” 

She moves out of your way at an aching half-speed as Munson’s eyes burn hot on your struggling frame–he’s loving this, he’s loving seeing you in the shit just like everyone’s loving seeing you in the shit–and you deposit your suitcase in your brand new matchbox-sized bedroom with a heaving gasp. Shit.

You cross the room in about three steps, heading to the window to close the blinds– shshk. Sshsk.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

The blinds begin to close, but stop dead not even halfway across the window. They’re stuck, leaving you without a particle of privacy. Which sucks, of course, because you were really banking on some scheduled crying time tonight. 

You had held it in for as long as you possibly could, all that hurt and frustration at the disaster your father had landed you in, promising yourself that you’d let it all out once you and your mom had a safe place. A place that wasn’t your estranged aunt’s basement couch, or a motel you could barely afford. A place that you could at least pretend was home. In your minds eye, you had envisioned something modest-if-shitty– the sunnier end of Cherry Lane, maybe. You hadn’t counted on a place that required a gas hookup. 

You tug on the beaded chain with a desperate force and no give– exasperated, you let your head slump against the filthy windowpane. The bedroom window stares directly into the window of the trailer opposite, where a warm yellow light flickers on and illuminates another bedroom. 

Peeling posters and a guitar on the wall. Of course. Of course you’ve got a bird’s eye view into Eddie Munson’s fetid cave. He spots you in the window and pouts a big ol’ pitiful pout– poor little rich girl. Missing your velvet blackout curtains? 

You can’t flip him the bird quick enough before he closes his fully functional blinds. 

–

You sleep like shit. Exhaustion couldn't even beat you into a slumber. You couldn’t be bothered to begin the unpacking process and instead fished out whatever closest resembled pyjamas from your luggage (an oversized t-shirt from a father-daughter trip to Columbia University), curling up on your bare mattress with your coat thrown over you, but the thing that was really keeping you awake? You couldn’t find your pen. 

Your prized possession pen, your fountain pen in the ruby-red casing. Your journaling pen. You refuse to write in your diary with an inferior instrument, alright, that’s just not how it’s done, but it’s nowhere to be found. It’s not rolling around the bottom of your book bag, though you’ve emptied the thing three times. It’s not anywhere.

You ask your mom if she’s spotted it anywhere, but she’s still in a Valium haze when you’re buzzing around, trying to get ready for school. 

That’s a whole other ordeal. Your acceptable school clothes are, again, buried in some suitcase that was hastily packed as agents waited for you to vacate the property. And by appropriate, you mean your carefully chosen pastel color palette– the very best of the very trendiest, the ra-ra skirts and the bomber jackets that sit so perfectly on your poised shoulders. The kind of clothes that make someone like Tina go, God, I wish we could trade dads. Just for the credit card. 

Now, all you’ve got to hand are the clothes that feel like your dirty little secret– thrift store suede and dark, rich knits, dresses of velvet and leather boots. The kind of things you collect just to collect, to dress up in when you know no one’s going to be looking at you and think someday. Someday you’ll be someplace where you don’t have to wear the exact right JCPenney piece of shit to fit in with a crowd. Because these are the kinds of clothes that feel right, but make people, important people, people like Carol go–

“Jesus, Lacy, dressed for a funeral much?” 

You hadn’t though the ensemble was too dark, but hey, in the harsh light of day. You bashfully shrug your jacket closer around you, faux fur collar tickling your ears. “I’m in mourning.” 

“Shit, I hate driving out here,” Tommy Hagan squawks from the driver’s seat, already agitated first thing in the morning, “I always feel like I’m gonna get carjacked.” 

Forget your shitty car; the only thing they’d be stripping for parts out here is you, Tommy, you want to quip, but you just fasten your seatbelt. Carol had managed to guilt him into giving you a ride this morning, an effort in pity and also because she wanted the gossip from the trailer park before anybody else. 

“Yeah, how was it, Lace? Did you like, deadbolt the doors and shit? Because you really gotta do that out here.”

“You should get a bat to leave by the door. Y’know, for intruders,” Tina blankly adds, staring into her compact mirror. 

“You should get a gun,” Hagan says, peeling out of the park with a quickness, “if that’s who you’re livin’ next to.”

“What? Who?”

“That Munson freak,” you sigh, resting your head against the windowpane again, “He like, basically threatened to rob me when I was trying to move in yesterday.”

A chorus of disgust rises up in the car that makes you feel good– warm, surrounded, accepted. Even though it blatantly wasn’t true, you’d do just about anything to win your friends’ approval these days. You noticed a certain waver in their stares when you revealed where you’d be moving to, after your dad was sentenced and everything.

A lot of the time, you didn’t feel like they wanted to be there for you, more that they wanted to be the first to hear the dirt on Hawkins’ most scandalous family. 

Usually you’re the one on the receiving end of their deep, dark secrets. 

It’s like they feel like they finally have something on you. 

Or, no! That’s crazy, you’re just being paranoid. These are your friends. As much as high schoolers can be friends. 

“I’ve got just the thing to take your mind off it, Lacy,” Tina says, pinching your arm, “Kegger at Harrington’s on Friday. He even asked about you–”

“--he said he could give you a discount at Family Video if you need it–” Hagan sniggers, earning a smack in the ear from Tina. 

“--shut up! So, you’re not a total social pariah yet, okay?”

You blink. You know Tina means well, but sometimes she is so fucking tactless. “Um. Didn’t think I was one, Tins, but thanks for the reassurance. I guess.”

–

He’s not a thief. He swears to God, or whatever the cooler alternative of God is, he’s not. 

But he’d be lying if he didn’t consider keeping the stupid red pen just to see if you’d miss it. It’s engraved, he noticed, while rolling it between his fingers as he lay in bed last night. And Eddie Munson is a man not unfamiliar with the value of a decent writing utensil. Those D&D campaigns don’t write themselves. You want something that’s going to be in it for the scribbling long haul and this thing’s not bad. Etched in teeny tiny letters on the pen cap are your initials– the letters of a name no one calls you anymore. 

Which is the part that makes it stupid, obviously. What is it with rich people and putting their monogram all over everything?

God, she’s obsessed with this fuckin’ thing, Eddie thinks. Wonder how much it’s worth. A lot, to you, obviously. You’re always etching with it in English, using it to push a lock of hair behind your ear in the library. Tapping it against your lips when you’re standing at your open locker, the tip settling right into your Cupid’s bow, the red casing bouncing off the plush pink of— woah. Pause. 

Eddie had to take a beat. 

He’d been tapping the pen against his lips too. Thinking about you. Thinking about your lips. That nasty little pout you gave him outside your trailer, the snarl it curled into when he goaded you on. 

Fuck, was that kinda… were you kinda…

It’s enough for him to jam the pen into his mouth and palm himself over his boxers, just to make sure. And— yep. He’d hummed, a kind of well whaddaya know! and slipped his hand under the worn elastic waistband. He even gave himself a couple of tugs, just to make sure. 

And the thing that made him really sure was the Technicolor vision he had of confronting you in the library’s restricted section.

Yanking that pen away from your mouth and grabbing a fistful of your hair.

Clamping his mouth onto yours and sinking his tongue so deep inside he could taste the cherry Tab lingering on your uvula.

Guiding your hand, your writing hand, past the undone clink of his belt and waistband of his jeans so you could stroke him to the head. 

Ink stains mixing with precum. 

Moaning into your mouth. 

Giving you something to write to dear diary about. 

So now, back in the harsh light of day, this stupid rich bitch pen is burning a hole in his pocket. 

Almost like payback, as if you’d embarrassed him by making him hard in the privacy of his own trailer, he approaches you in the most audacious setting imaginable— the cafeteria. 

You sit there, among your usual gaggle of Gap zombies, but you look— different. You’re dressed different. Cool jacket, Eddie involuntarily thinks before mentally slapping himself. Shut up! We’re here to humiliate her, remember?

“Lacy,” he says, but he draws it out all over his tongue so it sounds like laayyyy-ceeee, and you are visibly disgusted by this. He looms over the table, barely containing the twisted grin on his face. He's playing the part of fake bashful here, you see. “You, uh, dropped this outside my place last night.” Your shoulders go tense. Eyes of your space cadet friends snapping back and forth, from Eddie to you to Eddie to you. 

Because it’s true. Technically, you did drop it and technically, it was outside his place but the implication is what's killing you. 

Eddie can barely outstretch his hand before you snap the pen from him, icy fingers a shock to his skin. This sick thrill gathers like a twister in his stomach as you freeze in place, staring him down with a laser pointed glare. Fuck. Off. And. Die, it says. 

But he doesn’t! “Oh gosh, no need to thank me, Lace! Really, it was no trouble at all— what are neighbors for!”

Mocking giggles start bursting from the popular kid peanut gallery. But the flavor is… off.

Eddie scans the little in-crowd that are scoffing at your expense— which, okay, is totally what he came over here to do but… these are meant to be your buddies, right? Shouldn’t Hagan be threatening to beat Eddie’s ass right about now?

But instead they’re just… letting you stew. No one’s telling Eddie to back off, no one’s calling him their second favorite F slur (freak, naturally). 

Nicole Summers is laughing into her sleeve. That’s rich. Underclassman Carver is almost looking at him like, Yeah man, you got her good!

Which does not feel good. Feels kind of shitty, actually. 

Too easy of a win.

You didn’t even get a chance to fight back. You couldn’t. 

Fuck. 

Eddie turns heel and heads back to his table, a gaggle of befuddled Hellfire heads eager to know what the hell was that, man?! But even he can’t quite put his finger on it.

He feels… bad for you. 

—

“Anybody got bleach?” 

It’s the first thing you manage to choke out after a chorus of ooh, Lacy, what a good neighbor! and Hope that’s all you dropped outside his trailer, girl! All through lunch period, you’re the fucking laughing stock squared thanks to that long haired douchebag. 

“Bleach ain’t gonna cut it,” Carol smirks as you both exit the girls room and head toward your respective lockers, “That thing is totally contaminated with freak cooties. Better toss it— unless you don’t mind.”

See, that’s the thing. You do mind, because it’s your stupid goddamn special idiot sentimental pen and now he’s gone and— and— freaked it up somehow. Exploiting the fact you’ve had to make a major lifestyle downgrade because it makes him feel better. It makes you feel even more exposed than you’ve been getting used to feeling lately. 

Before you can get into it any more, Carol is clotheslined by Tommy to go, I don’t know, finger each other behind the basketball bleachers or whatever it is they do instead of going to study hall. You’ve lost track. 

You push past the gathering rush in the hallway to access your locker. Just as you slam the door closed, it appears again, like an insistent apparition. 

“What, Munson, are you here to tell me you put a bomb in my book bag? Because, if so, great. At least that’ll kill me.” 

Munson stands there, leaning against some poor bastard freshman’s locker, brow all tight. 

“Was I kind of a dick earlier?” 

You stare at him, incredulous. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I was. Shit, I knew it!”

“Why the fuck are you talking to me.”

“I didn’t mean it to come off like that— well, okay, I kinda did, but that was pretty cold. I mean, your dirty laundry’s already all over Hawkins, I probably shouldn’t have been like, waving your panties around—“

“Munson.” You gesture toward him, as if you’re going to clutch him by the forearms to shut him up, but halt at the last second. Fuck, you can’t stand him, you can’t stand the way he’s standing there with this earnest look in his eyes, on some hair metal Ferris Beuller protagonist of reality bullshit.

Your eyes flare white hot, jaw flexing.

“Listen to me. We may live in a regrettably closer orbit now, but that does not require us to acknowledge each other as human beings. In fact, if you try and pull some shit like that again— in fact, if you even so much as deign to look in my direction again, I will slash the tires on that fucking decommissioned World War II ambulance you call a van. You do not exist to me, and I better not exist to you. I am not your neighbor, I am a figment of your fucking rotted pothead imagination at best. Leave me the fuck alone or I will eat you. Capiche?”

You know for a fact that these are the highest volume of words you’ve ever spoken (or will ever speak) directly to Munson, and he knows it too. You don’t let loose like this— you don’t even talk to anyone outside your friend group unless extracurriculars or group projects call for it. Not because you’re shy, but because you’re discerning. 

Munson has managed to disarm you of all that with one stupid little pen. 

He’s staring at you with a deviously shiny-eyed gaze, one that makes you feel like you need to button the modesty button of a blouse you’re not even wearing. 

“M’kay, well, let me know if you need a ride after school!” he chirps and shrugs and takes off down the hallway to some class he’s certainly failing. 

And you’ve just earned the first big fat F of your life, by letting Eddie Munson get under your skin.

author's notes: hi! if you've read this far, i owe you my eternal thanks. been a hot sec since i wrote fic so i appreciate it. - thee perennial reference to lacy's nickname— best imagined sung to yourself in your bedroom mirror and having a classic 18 year old existential crisis, lol! - the journal and fountain pen motif is a not entirely subtle reference to veronica sawyer from heathers. please expect this trend to continue - as far as timelines go re: steve's working life and tommy and carol's high school careers, bear with me. all will be discussed or at least briefly mentioned but will there be inconsistencies? of course there will, babe. i'm here to fuck around, i'm not here for continuity - horndog eddie munson you WILL live forever! - please reblog, like & comment to show support! i've got some killer chapters planned for this fic and i live to entertain u

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #published by powder #in progress #hellfire & ice #e. munson by powder

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

And all the pieces fall, right into place // Part One

So Feyd Rautha is still on my mind and that’s my second try of writing about him and an Artreides!Reader.

This will get smutty later on, but not in this chapter.

Summary: As the Princess of House Atreides, you don’t shy away from what ever must be done for your family. Your impending union with a Harkonnen, though anticipated, doesn't unsettle you. However, the events take an unforeseen twist, placing your fate on a precarious edge. This sudden shift brings about consequences far beyond what you could have ever envisioned.

English is not my first language.

All feedback is welcome <3

Part two // Part Three

----------------------

There are so many songs that make me think of our favorite psychotic Harkonnen, but I stick with „Found“ by ††† (Crosses) for now.

_____________

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FxM

1.349 words

___________________

The dim light wandered through the corridor, veiling most of the space into a velvety dark. The earthy brown and green tapestry on the wall illumined ever so slightly by the flowing arms along the wall. But even if there would be no light, you know the way by heart, having followed it more times than you can remember. Your feet shuffled along the floor, finally stopping at a closed door almost hidden at the end of the passage. Before your knuckles can touch the polished wood, a slight gap appears.

„You are late“ Paul says, and pulls you in, closing the door behind you at once.

„Well, you can take it up with our Father. I love him with all my heart, but with him being in the library for so long there was no chance of getting past him earlier“ 

„He seems to spend an awful amount of time there nowadays“ Paul muses and lets himself fall on a cushion on the floor. 

„That’s true. I believe he hides from Mother.“

Both of you cannot suppress a laugh. Since Lady Jessica is with child she seems quite easily irritated with everyone, especially with the Duke. 

„Well, at least she will have a new baby to take care of when we are gone“ 

„Let's drink to that“ Paul says, and produces a bottle of wine and two glasses from a cupboard. 

The liquid is the perfect ruby color, reflecting the light on the walls. It feels like all of your home planet has been distilled into the glass in your hand: the sweetness of the sunshine rays, the vibrancy of the hills covered in forests, the deepness of mountain lakes you wandered with Paul & Duncan, the acidity of the soreness after training with Gurney and the light twinge of bitterness of the goodbyes Paul and you were to say so soon. 

„We have about a fortnight still“ he says, as if reading your mind. 

„How about you stay out of my thoughts, “ you reply, but there is no sharpness to it. He is right, your future is about to unfold, but now you are here still, far away from the harsh and unforgiving Giedi Prime where the man you were promised to awaits.

„I really should go there and tell them off“ Your father sighs, his eyes still resting on the book he has had for half an hour without reading a single word. 

„And what good would it do? Let them, they will need the memories to sustain them through what’s to come“ Lady Jessica says with a benevolent smile. 

Her hand rests on her belly, instantly protective of the new life. But she feels the same unease as the Duke, with hints of trouble in the air being almost tangible to her. 

_______

You regret the last cup when you wake up the next morning. Your mouth feels dry and ashy, your head throbbing. Your handmaidens say nothing, but a vial with medicine is placed wordlessly on your nightstand. You gulp it down and rush to the private dining room, where your mother and Paul are already there. 

A servant plates some bread on your plate but is dismissed by Lady Jessica with a stern look. 

„No, please. Not now“ you whine „ We practised for so much already“ 

Lady Jessicas looks at you sternly „And yet there is a need for more“.

Your eyes wander to your brother 

„Don’t look at me for help. I had earned my breakfast already“

With a sigh, you sit upright and focus on your mother

„Give me the plate“

Like in a trance, her hands move as she grabs the plate from the servants' hands and puts it next to you. 

„Good, now what else do you want?“ 

_______

Days pass by in training, between the library and the combat space, with afternoons free for you and Paul to do as you please. To sit at the cliff just outside your ancestral fortress, with seagulls rushing over your head, while you look at the waves crashing at the shore is something you cannot believe to be able to leave without. The hours spent in comfortable silence are so precious to you that you almost can’t find back the tears prickling in your eyes. A servant comes running to you one of those afternoons, visibly distressed. 

„My Lord, my Lady“ he finally gets out between snapping for air „You are requested at the guest hall at once. Please come“ Paul and you get up, exchanging a glance. In the hall, the fireplace is lit and everything is a buzz with servants carrying silver plates, candles and chairs. Your father stands next to the fire, his hands clasped behind his back with the message scroll he holds so tightly his knuckles are almost white. He turns around, and his expression is carefully neutral.

„There has been news for you today, my children. Paul, you are to leave for Arraki with me in a week. We will meet the Fremen delegation there and your wedding is to take place in Arrakeen. You, my daughter, however, will be gathered by Baron Vladimir Harkonnen and Na Baron Feyd Rautha here. Baron Vladimir and his nephews will arrive the day after tomorrow. They will take you to Giedi Prime after the wedding“ 

Paul seems as confused as you are. You were to travel as a family to Giedi Prime so that your wedding could commence after Na Baron's Birthday celebrations. But now he and his family make the effort and spice to travel to your home. This news leaves you puzzled and unsettled. „Now go to Lady Jessica at once“ he says and with a bow of your head, you rush to her chambers. 

Lady Jessica seems calm, compared to you. But she has years of Bene Desserts training that you are yet to acquire. She holds out her hands to both of you. „Something is not right“ she admits, „but there is nothing to gain in worrying now. We have too much to do“ 

And with this, your packing begins.

_____

Metal plate touches the ground with a soft thud, revealing a row of Harkonnens soldiers, all in their full combat gear, looking out of place in the middle of the green field their vessel landed on. „Quite a show“ Paul signs to you and gets a „Behave now“ as a reaction from your mother. 

They march in unison and behind them a grotesque floating figure is revealed, followed by multiple tubes, connected to dark glass orbs. Baron Vladimir Harkonnen floats, with his drape touching the ground and collecting the morning dew on the edges of it. His face is soft and plump but also full of hardness, small eyes beading at you with a hostility you cannot understand. Glossu Rabban, a mountain of muscle, follows slightly behind him, glancing between your family and the surroundings. Light breeze reaches you, carrying the smell of the sea foam and shells and raising the banners of your House behind you even higher. You lift your chin a bit, trying to mirror it and your gaze falls on the man next to Glossu. His skin is so fair that it looks like snow on a mountaintop, unblemished and almost sparkling. His uniform is tight, with black leather at his shoulders, knees and boots, which only makes his skin more striking. You are aware of his reputation, so his calm pace doesn’t fool you. Behind this facade of tranquillity is a person who is rumored to be the most ruthless soldier in the known universe. His eyes seem to look straight at your parents when suddenly his head turns to you and his dark blue eyes meet yours. For a split second, the corner of your mouth twitches nervously and he catches that, causing a hint of a smile on his face. He doesn’t look away as if to test you, so you try to withhold his gaze with the same amount of pride. His lips form a proper smile now, with the promise of a story yet to begin.

________

to be continued ...

#dune part ii #feyd rautha #feyd rautha imagine #feyd smut #feyd x reader #feyd x you #dune movie #paul atreides #feyd fanfiction #arranged marriage #no cannon in sight #shameless smut #smut #dune smut #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen #austin butler #i can fix him #no but seriously

[fairydustblossom]

losing control {part 4}

azriel x reader

summary: you and azriel have been best friends for decades. giving romance a chance takes some time to figure out.

category: angst, slow-burn, friends-to-lovers (kinda)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: none i think

Notes: i cannot believe it took me a month to finish this up. i apologize for the wait and i thank you all for being so patient! life got super busy for a second there and also i just was not liking this chapter at alllll. but i finally do! it's a good set up for the next few parts which im so EXCITEDDD to write!!! as always /please/ let me know y'alls thoughts i love hearing them,,,, anyways enjoy :)

{part 1} | {part 2} | {part 3} | {part 5}

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Half the night you tossed and turned filled with longing and regret and the other half you felt your anger reignite. The back and forth of your emotions leaving you rattled and unsure of what to do next. 

When morning came, you felt like shit. Dark bags under your eyes, face a greyish color, eyes bloodshot red and hair a mess. You stared at yourself in the mirror feeling the weight of the day ahead. You had to go to training and more than likely see Azriel, you knew he wouldn’t skip it, after that you had a meeting with Rhys, and then you had to work all day at the library. A sigh left you as you thought of the long day ahead and all the responsibilities you had when all you wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep the day away. The thought of you and Azriel ending  made you want to drop to your knees. If the possibility of that made you want to weep, you couldn’t imagine what seeing him today would do to you.

Closing your eyes you managed to quiet all your thoughts and started breathing in and out, telling yourself that Azriel hadn’t broken up with you last night. This was just a disagreement and everything would work itself out… You repeated this to yourself until you finally felt determination settle over you. Determination to work this out, to not let it consume you, and especially to not let Azriel see how much he had affected you. If he was going to act the way he did last night, cold and distant, then you would act the same. 

So with one last look at yourself in this state, you turned around and started getting ready for the day. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Every bone in your body begged you not to go to training. Your body was sore, thanks to Azriel, and the sleepless night did little to soothe your body. But you wouldn't give Cassian any reason to hold skipping for a second time this week against you, and most importantly, you wouldn't let Azriel get in the way of your duties to the Night Court. You owed much to Rhys.

As you walked into the training pit, you immediately noticed the Shadowsinger's presence. His back was turned to you as he adjusted the wraps on his hands. He continued what he was doing but you could tell by the slight twitch of his wings and the movement of his shadows that he knew you had walked in. 

You wondered if he wished you had stayed back, if he wanted to see you, or if he simply just didn’t care. By the way he carried himself, it seemed like the latter. You fought against the pain blooming in your chest. You always wanted to see Azriel. Right now, all you wanted was to touch him, hug him, and rest your head in the space between his wings. But you were starting to realize your feelings for Azriel were stronger than his. Was he not filled with the same need as you? The realization came to you late in the night as you replayed the argument, the way he had looked at you, talked to you.

There was no doubt in your mind anymore that you felt more for him. 

Training went by agonizingly slow, your heart never slowing down, your mind never letting you forget Azriel was nearby. You had tried sneaking looks at Azriel, hoping to catch him staring at you, but he seemed unbothered by your presence, never sparing you a glance. 

You couldn’t understand how he could just turn off his emotions like this. You knew becoming involved with your best friend, as emotionally challenged as he was, would be difficult, and you were aware his profession relied on detachment of emotions but how could he act like you meant nothing after having consoled you just the night before? After showing you how much he cared for you. It didn’t make any sense and you felt that you were being toyed with.

Azriel was trying very hard to stay focused on his workout. He was ready to be done for the day, not wanting to be near you any more than he had to. He felt ashamed and embarrassed at his actions from the night before, and quite frankly he had not gathered the courage needed to talk to you. During all of training, his mind kept racing with thoughts of what to say to you, jumping from one thought to the other. Azriel felt all over the place and nowhere closer to finding the words to better explain his actions. He tried keeping his eyes off you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to carry on with his day if he saw how you looked. Instead he relied on his shadows’ descriptions of you- whispers of the bags under your eyes, the frown on your face, the looks you were sending his way- which didn’t aid his overthinking.

He wanted to comfort you, to hold you, but knowing he had been the reason why you felt this way made him feel sick. Training felt like torture, his self-deprication not letting him get the relief he seeked from a hard session. Deciding he was better off in solitude today, he started getting ready to leave. He figured if he could just get away from you, the smell of you, the whispers of his shadows, he could think of an apology. All night he had replayed the possibility of telling the inner circle, of becoming official, and he couldn't escape all the negative outcomes his mind had come up with. He needed to figure out an apology that would not compromise his belief in remaining private for as long as possible- until he felt assured that nothing would go wrong.   

Finishing up your last set of drills, you looked over at Azriel for the countless time that day. He was stretching, having just finished his drills as well, and the anger building up in you took over. You started walking towards him as everyone else headed out and his shadows rushed around him, probably letting their master know you were walking over. He looked from his peripheral view to confirm and straightened up, turning his back to you and starting to walk away to the changing rooms. 

You were livid. The way Azriel had ignored you during training irked you in a way you had never experienced before. You had never been this angry at him. You understood the way the conversation went last night wasn't the best but he didn't have to ignore you. All morning you kept trying to make eye contact with him and he had refused to meet your eyes. And the way in which he walked away when he saw you headed towards him right now fucking hurt. 

The way he was treating you hurt. Never had you felt so little and unimportant to Azriel and although you had promised yourself you would be as cold and distant as him, your anger had other plans and you were not going to stand by this treatment, not from him. 

Trying to catch up to his long strides you marched after him into the changing area

pushing the door open.

"Azriel" you said stopping a few feet away, his shirt was already off, back facing towards you. You ignored the tightness around your throat and the conflicting emotions rising within you as you tried to not stare at the sweat gleaming down his back, his wings in all their majesty. 

His wings twitched while the rest of his body went still at the mention of his name. He didn't respond which caused a scoff to bubble out of you. You were in complete disbelief. This did not feel like your Azriel. This dynamic between you two was completely new. 

"Are you really just going to ignore me?" You asked, anger coating your voice. 

He remained quiet and took a deep breath. Internally he was a mess. He didn't want to say anything that would make things worse than he already had last night. He felt if he opened his mouth he would completely ruin everything and he was trying his hardest to not let that happen by remaining silent. He knew he was being unfair to you, but he had already hurt you last night and he felt unworthy of even being in the same room as you.

You however were not understanding that. All you could see was his cool mask of indifference. 

"I'm just confused, Azriel. I don't understand what's happened. I believe what I asked for isn’t unreasonable, considering we've been doing this, whatever you want to call this, for over half a year. I don't understand your reaction." 

You wanted to plead with him, beg him to turn to you to listen to you, to love you. You wanted to cry and have everything be alright. But you wouldn't. Instead you straightened yourself up and narrowed your eyes.

"Azriel, turn around." you said in a low voice. 

Azriels fists tightened in response, you could see his knuckles turning white.

"Azriel. turn. around. Look at me, I'm trying to talk to you. This feels weird, this isn't us. " Your voice softened, exhaustion and pain taking over you now. "I want to talk through this." 

Azriel turned around, your belly fluttering with hope. You were sure if you could just discuss this, everything would be okay. Your eyes met for a second and you thought you saw sadness in his eyes when he looked at you but you blinked and his walls were back up. 

"I don't want to talk right now Y/N" he grumbled, dismissing your attempts at fixing the problem. 

"Then when Az? When are we going to talk? Why can't we just work this out right now? Why does it have to be a thing? Just talk to me Az." Your breathing was getting more agitated with every word you spoke, his silence cutting deeply. Still, you carried on

"I’m sorry for the words I chose last night, for how it came out but… What did you mean last night? You are enough for me, I don’t ever want you to think that you can’t give me what I need. I know you can. You already give me everything I want. I don't see how telling our friends would change anything between us." 

"It would change everything, don’t you see? It already has" he said, becoming just as irritated as you. He was over this conversation, he didn't want to have it right now, not when he still hadn't found the words to explain his feelings. Gods he hadn't even been able to tell you he loved you . He wanted to do that before having to tell everyone. 

"How Az? How?" You almost shouted, your patience running out, you were ready to argue it out. 

Suddenly the door opened, Cassian walking in muttering about forgetting something when he abruptly stopped, noticing the tension in the room. He could see both you and Azriel breathing heavily, your fists were clenched and Azriel's shadows were mostly covering him, swarming frantically. The way you both stood looked like you were engaged in an argument and he raised an eyebrow. 

"Everything okay?" He asked. He looked at Azriel's face, set on a scowl, and then at yours, noticing the tears lining your eyes and your cheeks flushed pink. “What’s going on?” he tried again when he was met with silence.

Azriel held your gaze before muttering “Nothing” and winnowing away. 

You and Cassian stood in the changing rooms staring at the spot Azriel had just stood in. 

You blinked the tears that had welled up away trying to not let Cassian see but it was too late. He could see the state you were in and he knew he had just interrupted an argument between you and his brother. An oddity, given how close the two of you were. What could his brother have said to have you at the point of tears? Cassian started asking “What happe-” before you cut him off “I don’t want to talk about it Cass.” and then you winnowed away, going to your meeting with Rhys. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In front of you stood your high lord and one of your best friends, Rhys. Immediately you wished you had winnowed somewhere else to compose yourself, Rhys could read everyone in the inner circle in a matter of seconds. There was no way he wouldn’t notice your current state. Your red rimmed eyes and your heaving breathing. 

He took in your appearance for what felt like forever, but was really a matter of seconds, and raised his eyebrows in a questioning look.

You shook your head, letting him know you didn’t want to talk about it. He gave you a look that said he was sorry, but wasn’t going to let it go. 

“Not only as your high lord, but as someone who cares very dearly for a friend, a friend that I consider family, you know I have to ask. What’s wrong?” he asked, going around his desk and leaning against it, arms crossed waiting for your answer. 

You rolled your eyes “Really Rhys? You’re gonna pull the high lord card?” 

He scoffed and shot you a smirk “Here I was thinking I was pulling the family card”

That made a small smile appear on your face. You knew Rhys was just worried and it wasn’t fair to take out your frustrations on him. If he showed up at your office in the same manner you would also ask.

“I’m sorry… just… feeling a little scattered. I didn’t mean to snap” 

“My dear Y/N, you have been snapping at me since the day we met. I do not hold that against you. However, I will hold it against you if you keep things from me that are clearly disturbing you. I heard you missed training this week, I also heard you used your powers against Cass… and now you are showing up to our meeting, quite frankly, looking like a mess. So, what’s really been going on?”

You sighed and sat down across from him, head falling between your hands. “I can’t tell you”

At this Rhys stood a little straighter, eyebrows drawn in confusion. “You do realize one of my top spies telling me she can’t tell me something is cause for concern” 

Your eyebrows rose in alarm “I don’t mean it like that Rhys, you know I tell you everything of importance. It’s just… it’s personal” 

He sighed and went to sit next to you, placing an arm around you. “Alright… I won’t press you if you really don’t want to talk. Just know you can always come to me”

You leaned into his side and whispered “I know Rhys, thank you.”

He squeezed you into his size letting you rest there for a few minutes before proceeding with the meeting. 

“As you know, we will be hosting a gala at the end of this week, it will be a chance to celebrate the alliances we have built after the war and for the courts to further strengthen relationships with one another. Eris is coming to stay with us for the next few days. Now that Beron’s rule is over, I have offered our courts help to Eris. I intend for the Autumn Court’s new High Lord to have as smooth a transition as possible, otherwise all our work to remove Beron was for nothing. Hopefully, in return, Eris will help us when it is time to change the ways of the Hewn City and fully be the Night Court we all dream of. Now, I need you to keep an eye on Eris. I have no reason to doubt his loyalties, but one can never be too careful. I have already told him you will be there to help with anything he needs.” said Rhys, concentrating on some documents on his desk. 

“I have to babysit Eris?” you muttered, crossing your arms. You had learned to not hate the former heir, he had proved himself to the inner circle and he was often around, strategizing with Rhys and whatnot. He had asked for Mor’s forgiveness, and everything had for the most part been worked out. However, Azriel still despised Eris. The High Lord's attempt to right his wrong has done nothing to diminish Azriels’ distrust in him. Naturally, due to your proximity to the Spymaster, you had kept a professional distance from him. Never actually becoming friendly with Eris.

“If that’s what you wanna call it, yes.” Rhys looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes “But I like to think of it as giving you the honor of being an extension of me for the next couple of days” he said, shooting you a grin, knowing you would like the sound of that.

A laugh burst out of you, “Alright Rhys, you don’t have to butter me up. You know I’ll do it, shouldn’t be too bothersome. Eris hasn’t been a problem for some time” you drifted off “Although, I do I wonder how Feyre will react when I tell her I’m an extension of her husband” you joked, standing up and walking towards the door.

Rhys chuckled, muttering about the kind of trouble you would get him into. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cassian felt weird about the interaction from earlier with you and Azriel. He was running the events of the past weeks in his head and he felt that there was something he was missing. He thought of your skipped practice, of your outburst during training, of Azriel’s mood at the debrief the other day and what he had just walked in on. 

Clearly he hadn’t walked in on nothing, regardless of what Azriel said. Set on finding his brother, he wandered around the places Azriel usually frequented. He found him on his balcony, face in concentration, leaning his body over the railings, wings drooped, and shadows swarming around him in chaos. It had been a long time since he had seen his brother so out of sorts. 

Cassian landed a few feet away from Azriel and approached him cautiously. Azriel looked at him from the corner of his eye and stood up straighter. “I want to be alone right now Cass.” Azriel said, trying to harden his voice to deter Cassian from trying, but Cassian knew his brother. He could hear the mask covering his turmoil.

Cassian sighed and went to stand next to Azriel. “What’s going on, brother?”

Azriel huffed and muttered “I said I wanted to be alone”

Cassian grinned at him “Since when do I follow orders from you?” 

Azriel rolled his eyes but didn’t try to argue with Cassian, he knew there was no point. The general wouldn’t be leaving yet. 

At Azriel’s silence, he continued. “Brother, we have been there for each other our entire lives. I am not going to leave you alone when I can so clearly see something plagues your mind.”

Azriel debated for a second telling Cassian what was wrong, he wanted to ask how Cassian navigated his relationship with Nesta. How he was able to put aside the fears and worries of things going wrong, of Nesta getting hurt because of him, but he reminded himself that Nesta was Cassian's mate. The bond tethered them to one another, and the risk of things not working out was significantly less, given that the Mother had decided they were meant for each other. No matter how many times he had prayed to the mother, you weren't his mate. He didn’t have that same level of assurance, Cassian wouldn't understand.

“I’m fine Cass, just thinking about work” Azriel said. He figured that excuse would satisfy Cassian, it wouldn’t be the first time work consumed him and had such an effect on him.

Cassian narrowed his eyes at Azriel before asking “Is that what you and Y/N were arguing about? Work?” his tone letting Azriel know that he didn’t fully buy it. At the mention of your name Azriel’s shadows became agitated again, the Shadowsinger having to reign them in from becoming a frenzied mess. He cooled his expression, hoping Cassian hadn’t caught any change in him.

“We weren’t arguing” Azriel stated, looking at Cassian in the eyes briefly before setting them back on the horizon. 

Cassian scoffed “Az she was literally about to cry. Y/N always tears up during arguments. I heard some arguing before walking in, that’s why I walked in. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two argue. What happened?”

Azriel’s jaw tensed. His chest hurt at the thought of you crying. At the thought of him making you cry. He felt that he was only making things worse. He had to fix things with you, he just needed to figure out how.

Azriel ignored Cassian and turned to walk away “I have some work to catch up on. I’ll see you tonight at dinner” he said to Cassian before winnowing away. 

Cassian was left standing there wondering what the hell was going on between you and his brother.

taglist: @acotarxx @fall-myriad @moonlwghts @fictionalmenloversblog@kennedy-brooke@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @rebs2210 @angelshadowsinger @sstrohma @lahoete @alohaangels @fanboyluvr @thelov3lybookworm @hyemishii @thewarriormoon @reiincarnatiion-blog @gretavanbobatea

#azriel #fairydustblossom #losing control series #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #acomaf #acowar #azriel angst #azriel fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel fluff

[teenidlegirl]

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱 ┆ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚  ˖  ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  ever since the incident, you’ve been avoiding miguel. it’s best to believe he hates you now. miguel goes on a solo mission and almost gets killed.

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕  ˖  ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  angst, tiny fluff (just an ounce), violence, mentions of blood, injuries, swearing, terribly written action scenes (i can’t write action scenes for the life of me)

꒰ previous chapter ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ next chapter ꒱

it’s been a week since the incident.

a week since his voice rang in your ears.

a week since you last saw him.

a week since you’ve been avoiding him.

you still hate yourself for what you’ve done. how dare you invade his personal space. how dare you to be so ignorant and stupid. you betrayed his trust and look where it’s got you now. it’s best to believe he hates you so, no more visits. not only you avoid him but to any trouble so he doesn’t show up. he probably won’t even save your annoying ass anyways after what you did. he has every right to be upset and angry with you, to avoid you at all costs. you don’t blame him.

since the incident, you’ve been burying yourself into work. the weekends are spent with you working your ass off, barely giving yourself a break. your bed sheets have been barely touched other than going to sleep. your fridge looking depressing like before, lacks of food and drinks. there hasn’t been a chance to stop by the grocery store. that is definitely on your ‘to-do’ list, when you get the chance. although, it’s been raining lately so it’s unclear when you’ll get that chance. eh whatever, you’ll do it anyways.

grabbing an umbrella, you head out the door and walk to the grocery store. luckily at this hour, the rain is merely sprinkling. during the night is when the storm hits. after a quick shopping, you take a trip to the bookstore for a new book to read. you’re already a book lover but you adore reading when it’s raining. it just feels cozy, relaxing. reading in the warmth and comfort of your home while the gentle sounds of rain from outside is so relaxing. the minute you get home, that coffee maker is getting into work.

for once after these two weeks of constant work, you finally take a break. returning home from your little outing, you change into your nightdress with a silky robe and those classic white fuzzy slippers of yours. snuggling in the couch with a mug of coffee in one hand and your new book in the other, you indulge in perfect solitude. you picked out a murder mystery novel this time, one of your favorite genres. plus, it’s a perfect read for this type of weather.

god you need this, relaxation and solitude. this past week really kicked your ass, mainly your fault for putting yourself through it. but now, you can finally relax and just take a break. as you read the first page of the first chapter, you happily sip your coffee, the soft noise of rain smoothing your mind.

a true handmade heaven.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

it’s been a week since the incident.

a week since he saw your tearful eyes.

a week since he last saw you.

a week since he fucked up things with you.

god he’s never been depressed like this in a long time. the guilt has been plaguing his entire soul like a damn poison. a filthy substance eating up his heart like it’s a meal displayed on a plate. miguel actually likes your presence, despite the two of you not exactly friends or whatnot. however, he really does miss it. he misses you; a random civilian yet captured his attention. he feels like absolute shit for yelling at you like that. what the fuck is wrong with him? you didn’t deserve that. another mess by his doing.

yes, it was wrong for you to snoop through his private files, especially those files. they are private for a reason. not a single soul to see them other than himself. however, someone else did.

but that doesn’t excused him for how he yelled at you. so vile and vicious to the point there’s tears in your eyes. miguel knows you’re sorry, you’re smart to know your mistakes. he forgives you anyways because he hates for what he did and misses you.

not only this affected his mood but also his job. miguel grew more angrier and impatient which scared some people. majority of the society were unsure why he’s acting like this, but certain members knew the exact reason. peter and jess are worried about him, and you too. with his less tempered demeanor, those two have been keeping a cautious eye on him. they know something happened between you and miguel. your sudden disappearance and miguel’s more aggressive behavior were enough proof. not only those two noticed but the spider teens as well. miles and gwen worry for you. hobie is pissed at miguel for what he did but keeps it to himself, and he also worries for you.

it’s just been a mess at HQ. miguel has been a mess. that’s why he has been partaking in numerous missions to occupy his upset mind. burying himself in work seems reasonable, at least that’s what he tells himself. others, it’s a shitty idea but why argue with a stubborn man? the last thing everyone needs is a more pissed off boss than he already is.

“miguel, it’s late. do you have to go on another mission?” lyla asks, concern laced in her tone.

“the fate of the multiverse depends on it.” miguel doesn’t even take a glance at her, too focused on the orange screens filing his last report before the next.

the ai sadly sighs, shaking her head. “miguel, please. everything is fine. go home and rest. the multiverse will still be intact in the morning.”

“no. i’m shutting you off for the rest of the night.” he states sternly.

lyla looks at the tired man with slumped shoulders and a concern look. “at least bring backup.”

miguel shakes his head. “won’t be necessary. i’ll handle it on my own.” and with that, the ai vanishes by his command and he walks through a portal to his next mission, against his screaming fatigue mind.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

the storm was hitting hard, the occasional thunder and lightning in the night sky. not the ideal situation during a mission but have to endure it in order to get the job done. luckily it’s just one anomaly, a doc ock variant so it should be fairly easy and quick to take care of. exiting the portal, miguel lands on a random rooftop where the anomaly can be seen from a few miles away climbing up buildings with its mechanical tentacles. classic doc ock behavior, he thought. without hesitation, miguel swings after the villain through the harsh rain. a moment of lightening and thunder strikes as he catches up to the anomaly, a badass effect to a chasing scene. as the doc ock variant lands on a rooftop, miguel full blown strikes him down as he collides with the anomaly, causing them to crash onto the ground. the villain groans in pain while miguel swiftly stands up to his feet and starts attacking like it was a normal thing for him.

the villain acts quickly by blocking miguel’s attempts with his tentacles. the tall hero uses his webs as an attempt to capture the anomaly but fails when one tentacle cuts it off in one slice, earning a grunt from the hero. miguel manages to block and avoid doc ock’s swings until, due to his lack of spidey sense, a harsh hit to the back of his head causes him to fallback to the ground in pain. a loud groan of pain and anger escapes his lips. a mischievous yet evil chuckle fills his ears as miguel tries standing back up despite the pain in the back of his head.

“failed to see that coming, spider-man?” the doc ock variant teased, smirking mischievously.

the beaten up hero heavily grunts in response. “i’ve had a enough of you, doc.” and with that, miguel swings into action once again. a full blown battle.

the brawl between the two continues on, both practically drenched at this point. loud grunts and groans echoed in the air, mixing with the pouring sound of the rain. miguel suffered several punches and scratches. he is a panting mess now, chest heaving rapidly and fists clenching.

this is definitely one of the toughest missions he’s done. well, it’s a solo mission which he has done a several times but this time is a challenger. the rain doesn’t help much so that was one reason.

while too focused on what’s in front of him, miguel didn’t notice the spear sticking out from one tentacle aiming for his back. it slices through his back, cutting a layer of flesh, causing the hero to groan loudly and hunch over in pain. that serves as the final straw. using all his strength, miguel fights back until one punch to the face strikes the anomaly down in utter defeat. finally, the son of a bitch is captured.

restraining the villain in his webs like a cocoon, miguel sends him back to HQ. feeling utterly exhausted and in pain, the beaten up spider-man 2099 stand still as the rain pours down on him, the droplets bouncing off his broad shoulders. by command, his mask disappears, revealing his beaten up face. visibly bruising and scratch marks, a few strands of wet hair stick to his forehead. sweat and blood mixed with the droplets of rain on his skin. he tries catching his breath, or at least attempts to, but the agonizing sensation on his back makes him wheeze a little. what a fucking fight.

after a few moments of solitude in the rain, he jumps off the building and swings away. instead of heading back to HQ like he normally does after completing a mission, he heads to someplace else. of course the pain isn’t making him think straight but miguel doesn’t really give a shit. as he continues swinging from one building to another, he lands on a familiar rooftop which is across a familiar apartment building. a visible warm light shines in one specific apartment that he knows certainly well. without hesitation, he swings over and lands on the balcony, making a soft thud in the process. scanning inside with those ruby eyes, miguel finds you on your couch reading a book with a blanket covering you and your dog beside you.

how peaceful and relaxed you look. how deeply invested you are in whatever you’re reading. the occasional gentle pets you give daisy while reading, your eyes never leaving the page. but most importantly, how enthralling you look. seems like you’ve been okay since he last saw you. well, that’s probably false but at this moment, you look content.

that’s when it hit; how much he missed you. finally seeing you in the flesh, and not on monitors, made his heart flutter. the guilt creeps in his already broken and aching body once again. miguel just stands there completely mesmerized by your soft, peaceful presence, ignoring how drenched he is by the rain. honestly, he doesn’t give a shit. your tranquil nature takes his mind away from the rain and pain.

the broken spider-man just stands there like a complete fool mesmerized by an angel.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer @36namey @sin4tra @holographicang3l @migueloharasoulmate @darlingz99 @opalesquegirl @freehentai

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

#꒰ ᘏ ₊ ࣪ ꒱ — meet me halfway ! #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #fanfic series

[sxtaep]

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.

aiw taglist: @here4btsfics @zealouslightcookiebasketball @ninablue @petalsofink @jjksnoonamess @nadzzzblog @jossabelle88 @mwitsmejk @janedukiesworld @chl8e @bts-ruu @hollyweird0 @sharingcoolstuff @starbtslove @taeboludo @karinahwang @newdeobi @callmejimmeo @hrts4kook perm taglist: @aliceaflor5-blog @kookiecrumb @jjkeverlast @prettyghost @kooliv @koobsessed @gimmethatagustd @pb-n-juju @aslias17 @ririlovesangst @kootonins @taehyungseggs @dewamused @jungshook7 @jiminsneckkisses @moonfaery @fragmentof-indifference

Please do not repost on any platforms.

#sxtaep #all i want #aiw #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook imagine #jungkook ff #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts imagines #jungkook oneshot #bts oneshot #bts angst #jeon jungkook smut

[morgana-larkin]

Me again lol I was wondering if u could do Melissa x reader where reader is autistic and has an autistic meltdown or struggles with change in routine and Melissa helps her (lol sorry I keep requesting fics but your writing is sooooo good I can’t get enough and as always no pressure and look after yourself 🫶)

Hey, thank you for the prompt! I literally just moved 2 weeks ago from one end of the city I live in to the other so I wrote that reader moves since its really relatable to me right now. And feel free to send as many prompts as you want, it’s not a problem😉. Hope you like it!

On another note, I was going to post this tomorrow but kept seeing people like my other fics so I figured I could just post it now lol. Also I can’t believe how many people are liking my fics! Especially ‘her poco sole’ , that was the one I really didn’t know if people were gonna like and it’s the most liked one which surprised me. I’m gonna try to get another one shot to a prompt I got a few hours ago and the next chapter of Worth It. I do have my acting workshop tomorrow and a role on Sunday but I’m gonna try!

Overwhelmed

Warnings: reader has a meltdown

Words: 3.1k

You’ve always done things a certain way, you planned your day ahead of time and you don’t like changes.

You got diagnosed with Autism when you were 13. Your parents knew nothing about it but were super supportive and researched it to better help you. They also liked to ask you questions about what you prefer to help you even further.

You all realised that routine is very important for you, and if something changed then you would need a bit of time to calm down from your mini freak out. If it was small changes like having to wear a different shirt or a friend wants to meet up at a different store, those you can deal with. But big ones like if a friend you were going to hang out with cancelled last minute or a family member dropped by unexpectedly or you moved.

That last one you didn’t experience a lot thankfully. You only remember moving once, and it was moving out of your parents place and in with a friend you’ve known since first grade. The next time would be when you moved in with Melissa.

You got accepted for a job to be a teacher's aide at Abbott Elementary. You walked in at 7:30 and went to the principal's office to get your badge and to know who the teacher you’ll be helping is. You liked being a teacher's aide instead of the teacher. If there was any big changes to the day then the teacher mostly has to deal with it and you just do what you’re told.

You got introduced to the principal, you didn’t understand how she got the job with how she acts but you don’t ask, it’s your first day after all.

« so the teacher that you’ll be an aide for, her name is Melissa Schemmenti. I’ll bring you to meet her now, she’s in the break room. » Ava said and you nodded your head. You followed her there and walked in the room and all the teachers there looked up and looked at you and you blushed a bit. You got nervous when you felt put in the spotlight with a bunch of people you don’t know. « Hey Melissa, your new aide is here. ». She told someone and when Ava moved out of the way your breath caught in your throat. A pair or beautiful green eyes were on you and they belonged to the most beautiful woman you’ve ever met. And then it hit you, she’s the teacher you’ll be helping. You’re either really lucky or really fucked. You then remember that you should introduce yourself.

« Hi, my name is y/n y/l/n. You must be Melissa Schemmenti. » you tell her and she nods then looks at Ava.

« She better be better than the last one Coleman. » she says and you look confused. She already had an aide that she didn’t like?

« I don’t know, I didn’t pick her, the school board did. » Ava says then leaves. And you just stand there not knowing what to do until one of the teachers stands up to greet you.

« Hi y/n it’s nice to meet you, my name is Janine Teagues. I’m a second grade teacher. » she says and is practically bouncing in your face and you lean back a bit, a bit surprised by her energy and enthusiasm.

« Hi. » is all you say, you never really know what to say to someone new.

« Alright kid, follow me, I’ll bring you to the classroom. » Melissa says as she gets up and you nod as you follow her out of the break room.

You stare at her little bit, you don’t know what to think of her yet other than she’s stunning and you oddly feel safe around her. Which is different, it takes you a few times of getting to know someone before you even feel comfortable. But it seems this woman has the power to make herself go from being a complete stranger to all the way to feeling safe around her.

« You’re really quiet. » she says to you as she bends down a bit to unlock her door with her key around her neck.

« Sorry, just nervous. » You tell her and she motions for you to go into the room.

« I didn’t say it was a bad thing, definitely a nice change from the last one. » she says and you want to be better than the last one so you can’t help but ask her.

« What did the last one do that you didn’t like? Just so I don’t repeat it. » You tell her and she looks at you curiously.

« She disrupted the class more that the students did. She made it worse more than she helped. » she simply said and leaned against her desk and folded her arms. And that’s when you get a look at what she’s wearing. Black leggings with a pink top and black leather jacket. Oh. You always found a girl who wears a leather jacket hot. « Do I scare you? » she says as you haven’t said anything.

« I don’t know you yet. I’m just nervous meeting new people and never know what to say. I’m autistic so I’m not as good with social interactions as other people. » You tell her and she nods.

« Well this is the classroom. I have a split class. » she says as she takes a seat on her desk and puts her hands together on her lap. « I have 20 second graders and 10 third graders. »

« Oh fuck. » you say and she laughs.

« That was my reaction too. Do you have any questions? »

« Um » you say and think about it. « What will you be needing me to do? »

« Just stuff to help really. Like photocopy papers, hand out tests, help them with some class work. Might need you to sometimes teach the third graders a quick lesson in the back of the classroom. » she says and you nod. This sounds like it’ll be good, you think. « any other questions? » she asks.

« Just mostly wondering how you’ve been doing this mostly by yourself. You must be a hell of a teacher to have 30 students in your class. » You tell her and she smiles.

« It was hard at first I’ll admit. I even punched the head of a cardboard samurai right off before I asked for an aide. » she says and you laugh.

The two of you talk for a bit before students start arriving. Melissa has you helping the third graders with some work while she teaches currency to the second graders. She gets you to grade some tests for most of the morning then has you help bring them to the cafeteria at lunch.

« You were a great help today so far, keep up the great work. » she says with a smile and you beam.

A month goes by with you helping Melissa and she’s less stressed now that she has an aide that’s helpful and you’ve settled in nicely with the class and some of the teachers. Until you get home from work one day and your friend tells you that her work transferred her to another city and she’s moving in a month and your smile falls. You can’t afford the rent by yourself, that means moving.

The next day at school, Melissa can tell something is bothering you since you seem distracted and in your head a lot. During her prep period, she asks you about it.

« Hey, what’s going on with you? You seem distracted this morning. » she asks you and you look up at her.

« I’m sorry, just a lot on my mind. » you tell her.

« You wanna talk about it? » she asks and you shake your head, you don’t really want to put it on her.

« You sure? »

You sigh and put your chin on your hands. « Just found out last night that I have a month to find a new place and move. And I looked a bit last night and there’s nothing I can afford by myself and very few people are looking for roommates. » you tell her and she doesn’t say anything. « Sorry, I didn’t want to bother you with my problems. » you tell her and she shakes her head.

« I offered remember. And plus I was actually going to start looking for a roommate. » she says and you look at her. « I have a spare room I’m not using and wouldn’t mind some extra cash. » you look at her confused, wondering if she’s saying what you think she is. « I guess what I’m saying is , if you need a place, you can move in with me. »

And that’s how you got here. The day you’re moving in with Melissa. And you’ve been freaking out about it for a week, your friend has been trying to help you pack and comfort you the best she can. You move your things into her place all day, you don’t have a lot of time to think about it until you’re standing in your new room, and it hits you all at once. Everything changed, different room, different house, different roommate, different end of the city. It all changed and you crumble to the ground and bring your legs to your chest and hug your legs and start rocking to comfort yourself.

« Hey y/n I made dinner and was wondering if… » Melissa comes by your room and sees you. « Y/n? You ok? »

You don’t say anything, you feel like you can’t talk right now, it’s all too much. You end up shaking your head and she comes over and sits on the ground next to you. She doesn’t say anything, she just wraps her arms around you and brings you in for a hug. And that’s when you break and start crying and Melissa rubs your back in a circular motion. The repetitive movement and the physical contact of someone you know soothes you. After a minute you pull back and wipe your tears off. And she just sits next to you for a few minutes, letting you calm down « Thank you. » you tell her when you feel like you can talk again.

« Not a problem. I know it can get overwhelming. But I can help you settle in so it’s not so scary. You like knowing about things right? » she asks and you nod. « Ok, well today I can show you around the house so you know where things are. And then tomorrow I can show you where I shop and you can decide if you like it or not. Then I can show you all the best places to get a bite to eat around here and anything else you want to know. » she offers.

« You’d do that for me? » you ask and she nods. « Why? »

She shrugs. « Because you’re a good person who just needs a bit of help. » she says and you smile at her.

« You know at first, I was a bit scared of you. » You tell her and she laughs.

« I knew it! » she says with a smile.

« But after getting to know you, and seeing how you are with the students, I realised how much of a softie you are. » You tell her and she glares at you.

« Don’t go telling anyone that! » she tells you sternly. And you put your hands up in surrender.

« Don’t worry I won’t, I know you got a reputation to keep. » You joke with her. « was there something you needed btw? » You ask her, remembering she was asking you something before she saw you on the floor.

« Just that I made dinner and wanted to know if you wanted something. I always make a lot. » she says and you beam. You’ve heard great things about her cooking but haven’t had any yet.

Turns out what they say about her cooking didn’t live up to how great she actually was. It was better than you thought. She did give you a tour of the house after supper and you felt a little better. You ended up watching tv with her and she stayed right beside you so that your arms are touching. She knows that close proximity with someone you know helps you calm down and process things.

For the next week you barely say anything. You’re more quiet than normal and you hide in your own head, in your own little fantasy world that you have complete control of.

Melissa has no idea what’s going on with you, and that’s when she starts actually looking up autism and how it affects the person and how they act and how to help them. She sees that if they’re dealing with a lot of big changes, they get overwhelmed and they either repress it and pull away from people or have a meltdown, it also says that they can repress it then have a meltdown. And that’s exactly what happens with you. Melissa was prepared in case it happened, it’s just how it happened and what you end up doing after, that shocked her.

You came home after going grocery shopping and slammed the front door. Melissa was dusting her table with all her pictures when you came in.

« You alright there sunshine? » Melissa joked and you glared at her. Melissa came from an Italian family, so glares didn’t even faze her. She went and leaned on the side of the couch and crossed her arms.

« I’m fine, just they didn’t have some things I wanted so I just walked out. » You said, trying to take your jacket off but it got stuck when trying to take your arms out and you let out a huff.

« Need help? » she asks with a raised eyebrow.

« No. » you snap and continue to struggle. « Ugh why is nothing going right! » Melissa walks over to you and pulls at the arm of the jacket and you’re able to take it off. You slam your jacket on the ground « stupid jacket! Stupid grocery store! » You half scream out.

« Hey it’s alright » she tells you and puts a hand on your shoulder trying to comfort you.

You gasp and turn to her with a glare before shrugging her hand off. « Don’t touch me. » you snap at her then try to calm yourself down. Melissa tries again, knowing that physical contact helps you and read that doing things that helps that autistic person calm down helps during a meltdown. « I said don’t touch me! » you tell her and back up to get away. You end up backing into a wall and you feel like everything is too much and you grab your hair and start freaking out.

« Y/n it’s alright » she says and you barely hear her. She wraps her arms around you from behind you and you scream at her to let you go and try to push her off but she hangs on. And then you start crying and fall to the ground and she follows you, still hugging you. You put one of your hands on her hand and lean into her. « it’s ok y/n, you’re ok. » she says, still hugging you from behind. She rests her chin on your shoulder and you relax more into her. After about a minute you sit up a bit and she removes her head from you. You turn around and in a wave of confidence, you lean in and kiss her.

She kisses you back and she feels you smile. You pull back and look into her eyes. « R u ok y/n? » she asks you after it seems you’ve calmed down.

« I think mostly, it’s still a bit hard for me, I’m still processing everything. » You tell her and she gets an idea. She helps you back and tells you to stay there for a second. She goes over and turns on her Bluetooth speaker and it connects to her phone. She opens her Spotify and clicks on a song. The song starts playing through the speaker and you instantly recognize the song, it’s the Macarena.

« Come on I’m sure you know the moves. » she tells you when you raise your eyebrows at her. She pulls you away from the wall and goes behind you and moves your arms to the music with the moves. You start laughing at her goofiness but eventually you start getting into it and she lets your arms go and does the moves with you. At the end of the song, your both laughing and having a great time, then the next starts playing and it’s ‘can you feel the love tonight’ from the lion king. Melissa just goes with it and holds out a hand for you to take. « May I have this dance? » she asks you and you giggle and you take her hand.

She brings you close to her and puts one hand on your shoulder and moves her hand in yours to the proper position and you put your hand on her waist. She starts doing the waltz with you and you’re surprised. She ends up being a really good dancer.

« You seem surprised. » she tells you.

« I am, I’m wondering if there’s something you can’t do. » you tell her and she laughs. « I’m being serious, you’re an amazing teacher, your meals taste like heaven, you can waltz really well. I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew a second language. » you tell her as a joke but looks at you with a smile.

« Conosco Italian. » she says and you look at her. « That means I know Italian. »

« I was actually joking but at this point I’m not surprised. » You tell her and she giggles. The song ends but both of you don’t pull away. « thank you btw. You’ve helped me so much. » You tell her with a smile and she smiles back at you.

« of course mia carina. » she tells you.

« Ok now you’re just showing off. » You joke and she laughs. Then she puts a hand around your neck and kisses you and you kiss her back. It’ll take time but Melissa is willing to help you with all the changes and to make her house feel like home to you.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

If you want to be added then let me know!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

[tojifile]

@Dazai Osamu . . . ( ﾉ´ヮ`) ﾉ

Tags: ada!dazai, camgirl!reader, mentions of sex, suggestive, pining, cursing

A/N: Since a lot of people liked the first part I’m going to write chapter two. No, they don’t have sex. And Yes, the chapter title is a Taylor Swift reference. No, I am not a swiftie, I am a casual enjoyer. (December Mo: Hi guys, this will be my LAST post with the old style and probably the last time I’ll be doing a long, drawn-out fic. The old title was ‘Whiskey on Ice’ so that explains what I said before.)

Inspo: Mingwa’s BJ Alex. Links: Part 1 , Masterlist

Camgirl’s Crush – 💋

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to a bar with me tonight, since you did say I was such a good boy today.” Dazai whispered seductively in your ear. You felt the heat of his breath on your neck, “O- okay..” you nervously spoke. Dazai had a way of making you feel nervous at times, especially when his moves are sensual.

You’ve experienced teasing and flirting before, but when he whispers in your ear, when he pays attention to your idiosyncrasies, when he takes you out on little dates; only to disguise it as “work lunch” you feel—special.

Dazai was still holding you by the waist as you walked back to the agency to clock out. You told him that the both of you had to do it before going to the bar to which Dazai reluctantly agreed; he just wanted to make you happy. “Osamu-kun, people might make up stories if they see us together like this..”

Like he cared anyways. He chuckled at your worries, “Ah darling! You don’t need to worry about that! Pretty soon, those rumors would be true anyways, yeah?” Without thinking, you immediately respond, “yeah!”

You then realized what you just said. Your face turned red and you looked away from Dazai. “I- ‘m.. sorry.” You nervously mumbled. Dazai found your actions adorable! You were just so cute, he wanted to keep you all to himself.

Once you got to the agency, Dazai hurriedly clocked the both of you out while you waited for him downstairs. While he was upstairs, you thought of your moments with Dazai, you wanted him so bad. You’d fantasize about him during your streams and sometimes—at work. You were definitely not proud of that.

“Darling!” Dazai’s words snapped you back into reality. He ran to you then scooped you up into his arms, carrying you roughly to the bar. “Osamu!! Put me down!” You huffed.

But he didn’t, and you were happy. He almost makes you want to quit streaming. You just want to be his and you hope he wants to be yours. You just held onto him tightly, silently hoping he liked you back.

Dazai smiled softly as you held onto him tightly. He liked you like this, sweet and vulnerable. If there was one thing on his mind, it’d be if there was someone else or not, if you heard of him—IU, and if you could hear the love in him, waiting to burst.

His touchiness with you didn’t stop when you got to the bar. Not that you expected it to, but it was quite the opposite. He placed you on top of him, with your back to his chest as his bandaged arms encircled your waist.

He bought you drinks, obviously, he wanted you drunk. Dazai wanted to take advantage of his cute little coworker who may or may not be his favorite cam girl, not that he watches any other.

“Darling..” he whispered in a deep, sultry voice. “Wanna go home to my place? I’ll take care of you, I promise.” You only nodded in response. You knew you shouldn’t, you knew this couldn’t be. But you were only human, a slave to your urges. And right now, what you want is Dazai Osamu.

He gently laid you on his bed once you got to his apartment. Can you believe he carried you all the way there? It was his fault anyways, he got you so drunk!

“So cute..” he whispered underneath his breath. “‘Samu..” you called out softly. You then put your arms up, opening and closing your fists, wanting him to give you a hug. God! If you were sober this would’ve been embarrassing, acting like a fucking baby?!

“Hold me!!” You whined, to which Dazai chuckled. But he still happily complied. Taking off your shoes and sitting beside you on his bed, pulling you closer to his body. “Such a cute girl..” he whispered as he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

As the clock struck 10PM he saw that there was no new livestream, but there was an announcement. But he knew you had typed this out when you were waiting for him downstairs as he clocked the both of you out. Such a sneaky girl.

There was no going back now that Dazai knew that his adorable, seemingly innocent coworker was a cam girl.

@toxicramune @oh-my-beel @nymphsdomain @morinuu – Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

++ @yasu-masashige @ninin8nin (who asked for pt.2)

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #osamu x reader #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #tojifile

[anakin-pilled]

𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 - anakin skywalker x fem! reader (part two)

pairing: anakin skywalker x fem! reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: no use of y/n

rating: rating: 18+ (my blog is 18+ only)

author's note: thank you so much to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter! it meant so much to me. i cant believe i managed to push out two chapters in a week!! this chapter might seem slow, but only because im still new to writing fanfics and im trying to find the right groove of things, but please be patient as i hope to fasten the pace and tension with the new few chapters. as always, proofread but please let me know if you see any mistakes and feel free to nicely provide any criticism or suggestions (pls). i really want to keep everything as canon compliant to the star wars universe (minus the timeline, that's unspecified), but i decided to take some creative liberties for minor cultural and geographic details. i get most of my information from wookiepedia or the star wars reddit, so if you have any questions about anything, i'm happy to send any links. okay im gonna stop yapping now. taglist at the bottom! creds to saradika for the header!

You couldn’t bear another moment of dinner with Anakin. Something about him set your nerves on fire and left you completely unsettled–in a good way, a way that you’ve rarely felt before. But it was a way that you didn’t know how to deal with, and this deeply troubled you. How were you going to spend the next ten rotations with him? It sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. You doubted Anakin would do anything wrong. No, you would be the one to do something wrong. Totally embarrassing yourself in front of him or unintentionally acting off-putting just because you found him too attractive.

Dammit, you were thinking like a schoolgirl with a crush. 

After retreating to your quarters, you began to pace around your room. You had to get yourself out of this situation. Avoidance was always your favorite escape plan. It made life simpler when you avoided anything that made you uncomfortable or anxious. You weren’t exactly sure how you would avoid the 6’2 hunk of a Jedi. Asking Gido to remove him was out of the question. You couldn’t have Anakin removed, especially after the Chancellor had been kind enough to request one of the Jedi’s best members. You were being immature and you knew it. It hadn’t even been a full day and this man already made you so nervous that you felt like going haywire. 

You gave yourself a small facepalm. “What am I going to do?” you whispered to yourself. You needed to put distance between you and Anakin. That way you would stay as unaffected as possible. Plus, it’s not like anything could happen between you two. Anakin was a Jedi, and you knew that the Jedi had some unorthodox rules surrounding relationships. However (a small and delusional) part of you already imagined a future between the two of you.  You already imagined your lips on his. A man that captivating only came around every few millennia. Well, that was hyperbolic of you to think. Even you, a celebrity with access to Coruscant’s rich and famous upper echelon, never came across a man like Anakin. When was the last time you even got fucked or had one good Holodrama kiss? Dating is hard when you’re a celebrity. You meet people with the wrong intentions–cocky men who care more about having you as some sort of trophy or are afraid of looking beneath you just because you’re more rich than them. Plus, aside from the shitty dating pool, you were simply too busy with your career to indulge in relationships and sex. It honestly quite was ironic considering many of your songs revolved around love. 

The more you thought, the more you felt trapped in your room. An intrusive thought popped into your head, but you quickly brushed away the thought before it got you in trouble. But then the thought appeared again, and you couldn’t help but entertain what your brain was saying.

Her presence is suffocating is the first thing Anakin thought as you left the room. As a trained Jedi, Anakin mastered the practice of shielding others' thoughts and emotions from affecting him. But you were being so loud through the Force. Anakin felt the same nervous energy he felt earlier in the day when he first met you. Except this time, he felt it ten times worse. 

Anakin knew he was being quiet during dinner. But it was hard to focus with your energy screaming in his ears! So, he focused on trying to enjoy his meal instead. You were nice, Anakin would give you that. But he felt if he talked to you, while also trying to stave off your energy from his, he would overwhelm himself. It was all too distracting–a feeling that Anakin rarely felt. 

Anakin then proceeded toward his assigned room, ready to prepare for the night. Luckily, he didn’t have to stay on guard the entire night as there was no threat direct threat to you in Coruscant. Sleep slowly became a stranger to Anakin in the past few months, so he welcomed the guest room’s luxurious, canopy bed with an unrefined flop. He lay there for a while, though he didn’t know how for long as he just stared at the window in front of him and thought. 

Anakin suddenly heard a crash! noise coming from the living room. He quickly jumped into action and ran towards the sound. What if an intruder was trying to harm you? Anakin wouldn’t let them get near you. Though he would protect you, a pang of annoyance ran through Anakin’s head. How could anyone gain access to your apartment? He went through your security details with Gido and made sure that all access points were being guarded by either a security guard or a droid. Anakin hoped this wouldn’t become another Padme situation–he wasn’t in the mood for a high-speed speeder chase tonight. Better yet, why didn’t he sense anything? Were you distracting him so much that his senses were dull? Anakin couldn’t have that happening if you were both to survive the next ten rotations together. 

As Anakin reached your living room and investigated the sound, he saw what object made the sound he heard. His eyes first laid sight on a broken flower vase. The turquoise vase was shattered into a million pieces on the floor. Anakin then looked at the figure next to the broken pottery and there you were, dressed in a dark robe, halfway to the entrance of your apartment. A look of shock, then brief fear and then embarrassment, went through your eyes when you saw Anakin standing before you with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyebrows raised. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Anakin questioned you with a glare. His voice had a deep edge to it. He was relieved that there was no intruder, but he wondered what you were doing. If he didn’t know any better, Anakin would say that it looked like you were in the middle of trying to leave your apartment. Except, Anakin did know better so he knew that was exactly what you were trying to do. The dark robes were a telltale sign of this–it disguised your figure and the hood covered a majority of your face. 

You cleared your throat before putting on a tight-lipped smile, “Oh, I was just trying to night walk in the gardens before going to bed.”

“The gardens? I thought they were closed for renovations. That’s what Gido told me.” There was a slight smirk on Anakin’s face as he replied. He knew he had you.

“Not for me. I have special access…you know, the building manager is a fan of mine. Perks of being famous.” You felt slimy using that as an excuse, but it was better than letting the Jedi know your true intentions. 

“Really?” Anakin admired you for doubling down on your lie, but once again, he could sense your energy through the force. You were hesitant, like you weren’t fully convinced of what you were saying either. Anakin continued, “Then why are you wearing such a thick robe? The weather has been warm lately, even at night. Don’t you think that you would sweat too much?” 

You chuckled nervously before saying, “I sweat all the time.” You quickly shook your head. Kriff that’s not what I meant! you cursed in your head. “I mean I’m used to sweating during practice and performances so it does not bother me too much. I felt chilly which is why I decided to wear my robe on my walk. Please excuse me for disturbing you, General. I must have been in such a rush that I accidentally knocked over this vase. I assure you that I did not intend to raise any alarm.”

“It looks like you were sneaking out to me. Is that why you feel so tense right now? You know, we Jedi can sense emotion. I can sense that you’re not being truthful. There’s no lying to me, pop star.” Anakin replied smoothly. 

You shook your head. It looks like your plan of trying to put distance between you and Anakin wasn’t going to work after all. You should have known–how could you outsmart a Jedi? It was easy to sneak out with your regular security staff, but Anakin was different. 

“I apologize. You’re right. I wasn’t going to take a walk in the gardens. I thought I could visit the night market on level 3204, the Alderaan district. I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t tell because I didn’t think there would be an issue since I was going to keep my identity hidden.” Anakin noted how your apology sounded genuine. 

“Level 3204. Isn’t that a bit far from you? I never suspected that you would stray anywhere past the 5000th level,” said Anakin. When people on Coruscant managed to achieve enough wealth to live on the 5000th level of Coruscant, it was very rare that they ventured anywhere below. The only people that ventured below were those dealing in shady business. That’s not to say that the 3000th level was necessarily bad–he knew that the lower levels were a mixture of the classes ranging from middle-class families to criminals. Anakin had been to almost all the levels of Corscant while on Jedi business. He had seen the most impoverished slums, where crime was rampant and everyone fended for themselves. Yet, he had also seen the richest that Coruscant had to offer–elegant restaurants, opulent theaters, and people dressed in the most expensive fabrics. It always amazed Anakin how in the capital city of the Republic, one of the richest planets in the galaxy, could house such a dichotomy. 

You took offense to Anakin’s words. What did he know about you? Sure, you were wealthy and privileged, but that didn’t mean you had to confine yourself to a small circle of society. You enjoyed visiting what Coruscant had to offer–the different cultures, species, etc. It may have been unconventional for someone of your status, but your parents raised you with humility. Anything you earned in this life could be taken away from you at any moment, so you tried your best to explore and enjoy everything while you still could. 

Now you weren’t thinking about this annoyingly handsome face or soft curls. You were thinking about how he pissed you off. Just another person making assumptions about who I am. Your eyes narrowed before dignifying Anakin with a response, “And where is it that I belong? Please enlighten me. What? Do you think just because I am rich, I wouldn’t dare mingle with anyone in a lower class than me?”

“That’s not how I intended my words to come across.”

“How did you mean for your words to come across?” Anakin felt your energy shift. You were no longer hesitant or nervous. 

“What I mean is that it is unorthodox for celebrities to venture anywhere below Coruscant’s surface. It’s not exactly the most celebrity-friendly place. I would know as I’ve to the 3000th level several times before,” Anakin explained.

“Well, I’m an unorthodox person then. I’ll let you know that I enjoy the night market in the Alderaan district, it has good food and honest people. Now, you can either accompany me or stay here and make more assumptions about me. Whatever you choose, I will still be attending the night market. Feel free to tell Gido.” You turned around and continued walking toward your front door before you were stopped by Anakin. 

“Kriff. You’re not going to make this easy, huh? Fine. I’m going with you to the market because it’s my duty to protect you, but don’t try anything.”

You first discovered this night market in Coruscant’s Alderaan district only a few months into your arrival on the planet. Your fame had not skyrocketed yet, so you could easily travel between Coruscant’s levels without being chased by HoloNet reporters or crazy fans. You stumbled upon the market one night while lost on level 3204. It was a serendipitous moment for you. The night market operated every night and was primarily inhabited by Alderaanian expats, however, there were a few stalls run by species from exotic planets who sold even more exotic goods and foods. At the time you discovered it, you were feeling homesick and lonely. Your home planet of Bar’leth was nothing like Coruscant. Though Bar’leth had some metropolitan cities, it also had greenery and fauna. And the population wasn’t nearly as dense as Coruscant! You grew up in Bar’leth’s capital city, but you could still name your neighbors and there was a sense of community. Coruscant had none of these features. The night market was more than just a market, it reminded you of a tiny piece of home in the most bustling place in all of the galaxy. 

The familiar smell of grilled bantha skewers and roasted pormork flooded your senses. The area was decorated with a mixture of bright, fluorescent neon lighting and the warm, cozy light from twinkle lights from the vendor’s stalls. Light music played in the background from a live band playing in a corner somewhere. Though the market was mainly filled with adults, the occasional child and their family were seen. You and Anakin walked at a comfortable place in the middle of the road. Neither of you was talking, just observing the scene around you. You observed how people interacted with each other and made up life stories for them in your head. Anakin observed for any potential danger. 

“I’m sorry for snapping on you earlier. I hate when people make assumptions about who I am. It’s a sensitive spot for me. You know, with my name always in the tabloids,” it was you who decided to speak first. 

Anakin listened before responding, “Maybe I was wrong to make those assumptions about you.” He still thought it was odd that you wanted to venture so below the surface, but if there was one thing that Anakin understood, it was your disdain for assumptions. As the Chosen One, everyone made assumptions about Anakin—assumptions he should act or think. And somehow, Anakin always failed to live up to people’s assumptions of him. There were very few people in his life who accepted him the way he was. This was another point of contention in his life. 

Instead of letting this event take place in a silent awkwardness like dinner, you decided to make an effort to keep the conversation going. Anakin didn’t directly apologize, but you took his words to be a positive sign. “I know it must be a shock to you that I wanted to visit this market. And you were partially right to judge, who would suspect that I stray far from my life on the surface? The truth is, no one would expect that from me which is exactly why I do what I do. Not even Gido knows that I come down here.” 

“What makes this specific place worth sneaking out for? Aren’t there any other places you would rather be than down here?” Anakin asked this question sincerely. He was curious about you. While he was no stranger to Coruscant’s rich elite, the people he met were confined the the political sector.  He knew how politicians acted and their thought processes, but he knew nothing about the other type of elite—the celebrities, like you. 

“It reminds me of home, and the simple days I used to live before the glitz and glamour. There was a farmer’s market on Bar’leth I frequented with my family. There was local produce, lots of gourmet food, and trinkets of all kinds. I stumbled upon this market by happenstance one day and I never stopped visiting it ever since,” you explain truthfully. You loved the life you lived now and you were extremely grateful for it. But nothing could compare to your old life when you could enjoy the simple pleasures of life without any care in the world. Nowadays life barely gives you a chance to breathe since you were always working on something–whether it is new music, media appearances, or special performances. “You know, you’re actually the first person I have told about this place. You better keep it a secret, or else.” Anakin could tell you were joking by the smile on your face. He returned your joke with a small smile of his own.

You continued the conversation by asking Anakin a question of his own, “Don’t you have a special place that you like to visit when life gets too hectic?”

Anakin’s automatic response was to give you a generic answer. Before he could give you that generic answer, he changed his mind. He knew that was too guarded, but he couldn’t help himself. Anakin had been hurt too many times now–hurt by life, by his actions, and by the actions of others. Opening up was a recipe for disaster, especially when Anakin knew how passionately he felt about almost everything in his life. The only person Anakin managed to completely open up to was Padme, but even she was off-put sometimes by the level of passion and truthfulness he displayed. She never verbally admitted it, but Anakin could tell. Though you two didn’t know each other very well and have had minimal conversation so far, something about your energy invited Anakin to open up. Your energy in the force was serene. However, it wasn’t the type of serenity that Anakin felt whenever he was at the Temple. At the Temple, it was so peaceful, it was almost like it was devoid of any energy–it perfectly balanced all the energies of all the Jedi order and created a feeling of equilibrium. Your energy was serene in a way that reminded Anakin of his mother–comforting and warm. He could feel it radiating off your person. Ever since Anakin left with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, he could never sense that same energy in anyone else. Not even Padme, whose energy was more dynamic and loud. Thus, Anakin decided to be honest with his answer. 

“There is a place that I like to escape to sometimes. It is located in a secluded corner of the Jedi temple and only accessible through the garden wing. I used to go there all the time as a Youngling and then a Padawan. It has the best view of Coruscant since it faces the intersection where the old Republic Theater house and Senate offices meet. On clear days, you can watch the sunset from there.” Anakin didn’t know that the Senate offices were in that direction until a few years after he moved to Coruscant. Once he found out Padme had stepped down as queen and became Naboo’s senator, he would stare at that intersection as a way to feel closer to Padme during their years apart. Despite the breakup, the spot still comforted Anakin because it served as a reminder of how far he had come. He was no longer a lovesick fool and rambunctious Padawan, but a mature and fully-fledged Jedi Knight. Through the transitional nature of life, that spot would always be there for Anakin. 

It was your turn to nod and listen to Anakin.

“How was it like…growing up in the Temple?,” you hesitated, not wanting to overstep any boundaries with Anakin. You remember how the tone of his voice earlier when you questioned him about Tatooine. 

“Growing up in the temple was…different. When I first arrived, I didn’t realize I would be living in a religious organization. There’s a lot about the Jedi that was very different from the life I lived on Tatooine. Though I can’t complain too much, I had a permanent roof over my head and food on my plate every day. And, there was practically no sand at all. The best part,” Anakin finished. 

“I imagine it’s like one big family, no?”

Anakin sucked his teeth in response before continuing, “Since I arrived at the Temple later than the normal age, I didn’t grow up with my crèche. We had lessons together every now and then, but if there was anybody I considered like family to be in the Temple, it would be my former master Obi-Wan, and my Padawan Ashoka. She’s actually a  fan—I promised her I would try to get an autograph.” Anakin looked sheepish at the mention of the autograph.  

“Remind me before you leave. I’ll make sure to sign something. Should I sign her lightsaber?” You made sure to make a serious face while looking at Anakin. Then, you let out a giggle. “I’m only kidding about the last part. Come on, let’s get something sweet.” Your pace picked up before leading Anakin in another direction. 

You stopped by a stall owned by an older Twi’lek lady who sold homemade rishi honeystix. The honeystix quickly became your favorite item at the market because of its’ sweet flavor and crispy batter. They were similar to a childhood favorite snack of yours, except the rishi honeystix was fried, not baked. 

“Can I have two honeystix please?” you asked the owner. She nodded yes before you handed her over the credits, adding some extra for a tip. The owner quickly prepared the dessert before handing it to you and sending a warm smile to both.

“Enjoy the sweet treat! I love seeing young couples like you visit the market,” she stated with a look of adoration on her face. 

You and Anakin straightened your postures and sent a sheepish smile to the owner. 

“Oh, we’re not-” “She’s not my-” You both said at the same time. 

The owner giggled out an apology before turning her back on the both of you and preoccupied herself with preparing more food. 

Her comment affected you more than you would have liked to admit. You couldn’t say you wished you were dating Anakin, you hard knew him after all. But the idea of someone mistaking you to be in a relationship with someone as attractive as Anakin made you feel a funny feeling. You felt a moment of giddy before telling yourself to calm down. 

You led Anakin toward an old fountain that sat in the middle of the market. “Ever tried these before? They’re the best! I don’t come here too often anymore, but whenever I do, I make an effort to buy these.” You then handed Anakin his dessert. 

“I don’t think I have had these before. The Jedi diet consists of the Temple’s cantina food and whatever rations we have for off-world assignments. Though I try to explore new foods when I have the chance,” Anakin stated. He picked up the dessert and observed it. Anakin didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he was intrigued by its flavor. A sweet aroma wafted off the dessert and even Anakin felt tempted to try it. 

You were looking toward the distance as Anakin inspected the dessert. You were about to take a bit of your honeystix when you made eye contact with a small figure in the distance. As your eyes focused on the figure, you realized you were looking at a young Rodian child. Their gaze shifted from your eyes to the dessert in hand. Despite the Alderaanian district being one of the more wealthy districts in the lower levels, many families still lived in borderline poverty. You smiled at the child in reassurance before getting up from the fountain and slowly making your way towards them.

Anakin looked up at the sound of your figure getting up and was about to ask you where you were going before he saw you walk to a child and kneel before them. He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he saw you hand over your honeystix to the child. You hugged the child goodbye, but not before handing them a few extra credits. The child’s purple eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on their face. They gave you another hug before retreating to wherever they came from. 

You got back up from the ground and walked back toward the fountain without saying anything to Anakin. You continued like nothing happened and asked Anakin, “Did you enjoy it?”

He ignored your question. “What was that about?” He was referring to the instance in which you gave away your dessert to a child. 

“I saw the little one looking at my food, so I decided to go over there and offer it to them. I could tell she was hungry. It’s alright, I can always buy myself another.”

Anakin always believed that you could tell a lot about a society or individuals based on the way they treated children. He hated Tatooine and regarded it as one of the lowest civilized planets in the entire galaxy–for many reasons, of course, but the primary reason is that those on Tatooine had no issue trafficking children into slavery and treating them as chattel. He wished that more people displayed kindness toward him as a child. Anakin’s only crime was being born into the world, but aside from that, he was innocent and deserved to be treated with dignity and humanity. You were kind. It seemed like a bare minimum requirement to be astonished at, but with the type of people Anakin has had the displeasure of meeting, kindness was a trait he rarely witnessed outside of the Temple walls. 

You stared at Anakin as if you were waiting for him to say something, but he simply observed your face without saying anything. A timid look washed over your face before you turned your head to the side and blew a piece of hair out of your face. 

“Well, I think it’s time we head back.” 

Being with Anakin was different than you expected. At first, you were overwhelmed by his presence–caught off guard by the fact he looked like a literal god from one of those classical paintings located in one of Corucant’s largest art galleries. You’ve always had a soft spot for pretty boys. Plus, you also had a penchant for romanticizing almost every interaction and person in your life. Not always in the romantic sense though. From brief strangers to friends, you tried to put a positive spin on everyone you encountered. There was no way of telling if fate was real, but you liked to believe so. Anakin was no exception to these rules. 

You were so close to successfully sneaking out of your apartment, without being detected, until you accidentally bumped into that stupid vase. Anakin came running out while you scrambled to make it look like you hadn’t been caught in the middle of doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing. You knew that if Anakin found out that you were leaving the building, he would either force you to say or contact your manager. So, you lied and tried to convince him you weren’t sneaking out. Of course, he saw through you and you gave up without a fight, until he made that stupid comment. Lying was never your strong suit anyway and it wasn’t worth the hassle anyway. So, Anakin joined you on your night adventure. 

Though you were initially anxious, once to got to the market, you felt your head clear. This was your comfort place, and it soothed your racing heart and clouded mind. Once you were past that anxiousness, you found that Anakin had a calming presence, once you got over your initial nerves. Anakin was observational, though it was expected of him to be so. However, it felt like he was really listening to you and clinging to what you said. He looked pensive as you described why you liked the night market so much. You wanted to make conversation with him, you didn’t feel forced to. Maybe it was the nature of the predicament you were both and the fact that he would be your bodyguard for the next week and a half, but you felt drawn to him. You wanted to know more about who the “Hero with No Fear.” You feared that if you got to know him anymore, then you might fall for him.  Except, you had to stop yourself before it went any deeper than that. Once again, you reminded yourself that Anakin was a Jedi. Off-limits. So, as you settled into bed, you promised that you would actually keep your distance. There was no use in getting attached to him. The Jedi belonged to no one. 

taglist: @angie2274 @bunnylovesani @0709fullofstars @js-favnanadoongi @payton-dixonreader it wasn't letting me tag u ):

#kendra's works !!! #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom #sw fanfic #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #tcw anakin #anakin x y/n #the clone wars #darth vader #darth vader x reader #hayden christensen

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 8: Bear Cubs

Words: 4.1 k

Summary: New opportunities present while ghosts from your past reappear.

a/n: The closer I get, the harder it becomes to write i don't know what it is but I hope you still enjoy. Commenting is always appreciated!

PS. Reader is latina in this cause Carmy seems like the type of man to appreciate a little melanin, okay!

WARNINGS: Smut ahead, oral sex (male receiving),semi public, minors DNI but you'll do what you want so don't say I didn't warn you

Summer came into Chicago with rain. Endless droplets poured in all directions with help from the constant wind, soaking everything and anyone that found themselves unlucky to not find shelter in time. You would regularly find the rain charming, relaxing on a day when all you had to do was enjoy the rhythmic patter and drown yourself in cups of tea. However, you dreaded the days when you had to go out and your sneakers were not a barrier thick enough to keep your socks from absorbing all the moisture that splashed onto them.

The rain from that day had fallen extra heavy, enough that you had to pad around in your socks once you reached the gallery and wait for your sneakers to dry.

“How about these?” Marjorie asked, standing over the set of frames laying on the floor.

“Aren’t they a bit too grim for a charity event?” You asked with your head tilted as you inspected the set of six paintings that depicted the progress of a horse’s rotting corpse.

“Yeah…” She hummed then advanced to the next set of frames with you padding behind her. “Y’know I was thinking..call me nosy, but I’ve been taking a peek at your canvas in the back..” She confessed and your eyes shot from the golden shades of a sunset to her face.

“I’ve uhm, been staying a little longer after closing… I hope it’s not a problem..?”

“No, of course not!” She answered and a wave of relief washed over you. “I actually wanted to offer you the last spot.” She said simply, turning to you with a stop.

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to process her words. “I’m sorry, what?” You asked through a nervous laugh, ‘there’s no way I heard right’, you thought.

“Well, Joy sent me a couple pictures of your works before hiring you and the one in the back sealed it. Your style is absolutely lovely and I believe you could make a great closing set for the showing.”

The moisture in your mouth had evaporated and traveled up to your teaducts where it threatened to spill. You felt like a fish out of water with the way your mouth kept opening and closing because, even though your head was racing with thoughts, none seemed to want to come out.

“You don’t need to decide now, of course, but I do need an answer by next week or we’ll have to go with the decapitated horse-”

“No! No, no I’ll do it!” You said with too much excitement to keep still, throwing your arms over her delicate shoulders. “Thank you Marge, thank you!”

She laughed along with your excitement and softly rubbed your back. You mentally reminded yourself to call Joyce and thank her for the push of bravery she had given you.

“D’you think I’ve given you enough time?” She asked after letting her go and beginning to pick up the paintings that you wouldn’t be using anymore.

“Yeah- no, I think three months is more than enough.” You assured, with the ideas already swirling in your head.

“And if you know of anyone who can cater, let me know. God knows what some people have in their heads these days that they wanna charge you your firstborn for a few canapes! Ridiculous!” 

She began ranting on how some places wanted to charge more for their reputation than the actual quality of the food and you immediately thought of offering The Beef. Sure, the menu wasn’t nearly as luxurious as needed to cater a charity event held yearly for Chicago’s socialites to feel better about ‘giving back’, but you were more than confident in their ability to handle the challenge - especially considering that Carmy came with a built in reputation from his time in various awarded restaurants. So with a little push in the right direction, you pulled out your phone and after browsing through his feed, you showed her pictures of a few dishes he had crafted.

“Oh, wow.” She marveled, adjusting her glasses over her head. “That is beautiful…”

“I can ask him when he’s free for a test try if you want. They could really benefit from the promotion.” You confessed.

“Yes, please. Tell me when your ‘friend’ is free.” She teased and you’re glad your hair covered your beet red ears. You nodded in response, face beaming with a smile.

“Hmm, I see you two all lovey dovey when he picks you up, you make a beautiful couple, by the way.” Marjorie whispered, then sweetly patted your blushing cheek.

You finished picking up the paintings and wrapping them up for storage in the back, then said goodbye for the weekend and made the short walk in the rain to the restaurant, where you had agreed to help out for the rest of the day. 

You reached The Beef huddled under your blue umbrella and by the back door, you shook out your hair from the few droplets that managed to wage their way through. The team was just about to take family by the time you crossed into the kitchen and greeted everyone leaving their stations. You found Syd and Carmy by the front, discussing some new dishes she wanted to add to the menu but he wasn’t quite sure about. You didn’t want to interrupt so you stood a couple feet behind, waiting for their conversation to end.

“Can we please just discuss this later, chef? I plan on adding it -I really do- but new dishes means new products and that means spending money we don’t have right now.” He said while rubbing his temples in frustration.

“I thought you said we finally had a parachute?”

“Yeah and it’s barely keeping us afloat as is. If we spend any more now, we’ll need a fuckin’ miracle to keep this place open.” He whispered harshly, looking around until he spotted your head behind Syd. 

“Go take family, okay? We’ll talk about it later.” He ended the conversation then stalked up to you and leaned down to whisper “Can I see you in the office in a sec?” 

His stare was so intense that all you could do was nod slowly up at him and when he walked away and you turned to Syd, her expression was just as confused as yours. 

“Try to keep it in your pants, maybe.” She said amused, crossing her arms and leaning against the expo.

“Who knows, maybe I can get your risotto on the menu.” You answered back with a wink and turned to walk in direction of the office. 

“That would be a miracle” You heard her whisper before turning the corner.

Carmy had his back to you when you entered the office. One hand rested tensely on his hip while the other seemed to rub away an incoming headache. You closed the door softly, then moved to rest your forehead on his strong back and caressed with open hands from his sides to his abdomen.

“Everything okay?” You asked, but the ragged breaths you felt him take were enough of an answer.

He took your hands and pulled them  tighter around himself as he let out a sigh. “It never is, is it?” He answered with a slight snigger while turning in your arms and taking your head in his hands to kiss you.

You smiled into the kiss and as a sudden idea popped into your head, you began pushing him back until he dropped onto the squeaky old office chair. He smiled confused when you disconnected your lips to turn the lock on the door, then moved back to his side.

“Well I may have two good news that might cheer you up…” You spoke in a sultry voice as you stroked from his chest up to his shoulders and back down. “...but maybe they can wait ‘till after.”

“After what…?” He asked, however, his question was answered the second you stepped in front of him and dropped to your knees without a word.

Carmy straightened up and sucked in a sharp breath at the stunning sight of your torso resting between his parted thighs. You kissed him again more fervently and scratched  a trail up, over the hard denim of his black jeans and to the buckle of his belt.

He sighed your name between kisses. “-Everyone’s outside..” 

A cheeky grin spread over your face as you finished undoing the button on his jeans. “Don’t make too much noise, then.” You purred with a scrunch of your nose, holding his gaze for a few seconds to make sure he was okay with it.

“No one’s ever…”

“I can stop if you don’t-”

“No-no, I just…” He licked his bottom lip and let out a breathy laugh looking into your eyes. “I kinda had a dream about this… once.” He spoke slowly and a red tint covered his face.

Your smile grew even wider at the thought of poor sweet Carmy, dreaming about you blowing him in his office and how now you were kneeling -very real- in front of him. You palmed him through his jeans with connecting sight and it surprised you how hard he already felt under the denim.

“Well then, I’m flattered to be your first.” You whispered.

Carmy’s Adam's apple bobbed in his throat and he swallowed dryly as you released him from the pressure of his jeans. His eyes were fixated on each of your movements, the way your lip caught on your teeth and how warm your hand felt over his throbbing cock. You looked up at him through your lashes and smiled one last time before bluntly licking a stripe along the length of his velvet skin.

“Sshit-” He hissed, throwing his head back, then remembered the team was only a few yards away and bit the inside of his cheek to muffle the remaining sounds.

The soft skin of your hand stroked him at a slow pace, while the other massaged his thigh tenderly. You gave the pink tip a couple kisses, the taste of his precome coating your tongue, then wrapped your lips over it and sucked him into the warmth of your mouth. His hands had fisted at the side of your face, knuckles gone white from contained strength as you bobbed your head rhythmically. 

“I’m not gonna break, y’know?” You breathed out while your hand continued the steady movements. “Go ahead.”

He hesitated for a second before reaching out to feather his thumb over your bottom lip, then extending his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck and pushing you down, back to his lap. You swallowed him gladly, the force of his strong hand applied a new pressure that made you take him even deeper than before and the knot in your abdomen tightened. His soft groans were muffled by the skin of his palm as he clamped it hard to ensure no one outside the room could hear him and how he was falling apart under you.

The thought was ravishing, to have this strong, fucked up and touch starved man trembling in pleasure from just your mouth made your chest swell with pride and your cunt squeeze in anticipation. Too bad you didn’t have enough time or you’d gladly throw everything on the desk to the ground and let him take you on it. You let your thoughts run wild with the idea, speeding up the pace to replace the growing ache between your legs.

His hips stuttered with the constant movements of your tongue and the grip he had on your hair tightened, teeth biting down on the back of his hand from the overstimulation. He knew he was close, but could do nothing more than keep pushing your head down and his hips up to continue the friction. His stomach spasmed with the force of his breaths, you took your hand from his thigh and slipped it under his shirt to run your nails over the sensitive skin.

“Jesus Fuck-” He groaned into the skin of his hand and that was the only warning you got before the thick hot liquid trickled down your throat in short bursts.

Carmy’s grip loosened over your head and you pulled away but kept flicking your hand slowly to ride out his orgasm. His head was thrown back and covered in a thin layer of sweat, the tense expression on his eyebrows long gone. He hissed softly when you put him back into his jeans, the cotton of his boxers too rough on the sensitive skin.

“Better than your dream?” You teased while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and standing back up.

He let out a relaxed laugh and pulled you by your hips, kissing over your clothed stomach. “Like, by a thousand.” He responded, then pulled you down and groaned into your mouth when he tasted himself. “D’you think they’ll notice if we bail?” He asked against your lips.

“Yo, horndogs! Put your clothes back on and come out! We open in ten!” You heard Richie’s booming voice through the thin wooden door, followed by heavy knocks.

“I think that’s your answer.” You kissed him one last time and turned to the door, readjusting your hair.

“You never told me the good news…”

‘Right, that’s what I came in here for…’

“Remember the charity event I told you about?” You asked and continued once he nodded in agreement. “Well Marge offered me the last spot.” He stared blankly at you. “My paintings are gonna be auctioned at the event!”

He took a split second to react, but soon his brows raised in surprise and he circled his arms around your waist, lifting you from the ground in a tight hug.

“Baby, that’s great! I’m so fuckin’ proud of you!” He cheered, kissing the top of your head. You felt as if the skin on your cheeks would rip from the force of your smile.

“Wait that’s not all-” You laughed as you freed your head from his grip and looked up at his beaming face. “I may have gotten you guys the catering gig for the event.”

“Wait, seriously?” His grip loosened around you and you took advantage of that to turn to the door and step outside to wash your hands, Carmy following close behind.

“Mhm! She wants to see some options first, but I just know you guys are gonna kill it, so it’s practically in the bag.” 

“What’re we gonna kill?” Marcus asked, popping his head around the corner of his station and causing a laugh to leave your chest.

You turned to a silent Carmy. He leaned on the wall with his hand resting over his chin and smiling mouth. You mouthed a slow ‘what?’ that he just answered with a shake of his head and wrapped a single arm around your shoulders, kissing your head again and whispering a soft ‘Thank you’ into your hair.

He let you go after a few seconds and you walked to the front with a glowing smile, setting up for the presumed ‘hectic day’, though with the way the sky seemed to be pouring down, you doubted anyone would be stepping foot inside.

**********

You were wrong, so very very wrong. But you would not let anyone know that as you took what seemed like the thousandth order, especially not Richie - who was already having a day picking jokes at you. ‘Haven’t seen you in a month hun, got a lot of ‘em saved up’ he said two minutes after walking through the door.

“What can I getcha?” You asked the next person in line. 

Greetings had been lost, maybe fifty or sixty customers back, when you switched with Richie so he could wait on tables because the ipad had gone ‘crazy’ and it was ‘messing with his vibe’, or whatever the fuck that meant. So after clearing the screen from the usual grease, you took his place by the til and began taking the overwhelmingly large amount of orders. 

It was only until the rain turned into a light drizzle, when the line grew shorter and the room less crowded, that you finally felt your phone vibrate with an incoming call from an unknown number. 

“Richie! Cover for me, I gotta take this!” You called over the noise without waiting for an answer and walked into the kitchen with your phone to your ear. “Hello?”

A sudden rush of sharp chills prickled through your skin as the voice on the other end called your name. 

“I-Isaac?” You asked, taken back because there was no way in hell that it could be him, not when you had blocked every one of his attempts to contact you.

“It’s been a while…” He said and you could hear the sly smile behind his words.

You felt the remains of your lunch slowly burn a path up from your stomach.

“Yeah, let’s keep it that way.” You answered as frigid as possible before hanging up and lunging to the bathroom to spill the undigested meal.

“Yo hurry up, I need to- shit you okay?!” You heard Richie’s voice over by the door you had forgotten to close.

You spit the last taste of bile from your mouth and flushed before putting down the seat and slouching defeated over it. The sudden squeak of kitchen shoes vibrated and soon Syd’s head appeared behind Richie.

“Shit- hey you okay?!” She asked at the same time Richie said “So… what- you pregnant?”

“She’s not pregnant you fuckin’ moron!” She yelled at him and pushed him out, closing the door in his face. “You’re not pregnant, right?” She asked, immediately squatting beside you.

“No Syd! I’m not fucking pregnant!” You answered through soft sniffles. 

“Okay… what's wrong then?”

“Isaac called me.” You said after a few moments of silence.

“Psycho ex, Isaac?”

“Psycho ex Isaac.” You confirmed with eyes fixated beyond the floor and legs bouncing in anxiety.

“Okay… chill it’s not like he’s gonna come looking for you.” Syd said, trying to calm the evident panic attack bubbling under your skin. “Besides, Carmy wouldn’t let him stand in a ten mile radius of the restaurant, anyway.”

Your head shot up from the floor to look at her with worried brows. 

“Because he does know…right?” She asked and the look of guilt slapped on your face was enough of an answer. 

She threw her head back and stood with her hands on her hips. 

“Dude, why haven’t you told him?!” She sneered with a whisper. 

“I-I just couldn’t find the right moment-“

“There is no right moment! Just gotta throw in the bomb and hope for the best!”

“Yes I know, Syd! But I just- I couldn’t bear the thought of him thinking the worst of me, okay?!” You stood up from the seat in defeat and wiggled in the small space to reach the sink and rinse your mouth from the bitter taste. 

“And now it’s gonna be worse cause you’ve waited this long.” Syd whispered behind you. 

Three knocks at the door interrupted your answer and you looked up at Syd with a terrified look in your eyes. She mouthed a frantic ‘what do I do?’ before calling out a wobbly ‘uh… busy!’.

“I know you’re both in there, open up.”Carmy called with a heavy sigh. 

She shrugged her shoulders apologetically and opened the door to a worried Carmy. 

“Cousin said you were throwin’ up, everything okay?” He asked as Syd slid past him through the narrow opening, turning to you and pointing with  wide eyes towards Carmy. 

“Fucking Richie… yeah, something I ate, probably.” You tried saying while patting  cold water on your skin to reduce the heat rising rapidly. 

“Sure? You don’t look too good…”

He turned you to him by your shoulders and cupped your warm cheeks in his hands, looking over your face in concern. 

“Yea- yeah, ’m fine. Probably just a one time thing.” His eyes roamed over your face with a creased brow, not fully convinced of your statements.

“You can head home if you’re not feelin’ up to it…” he suggested. 

“And miss your stupid cousin telling everyone I’m pregnant, yeah no chance.” You said with a smile and the slight crinkles by the side of his eyes returned. “Besides, they’re gonna start thinking you got favorites.” You joked and laid your head softly over his chest so he couldn’t see your own worried expression. 

He rubbed your back slowly, the measured rise and fall of his breathing calmed you down, but only slightly. You could still faintly hear Isaac’s voice bounce off the walls in your head, overpowered by Richie chanting through the kitchen about the little bear cub you were gonna have, and -for the first time since you met him- you appreciated the loudness of it.

The rest of your non-shift passed by in a blur of grease covered sandwiches and slight forming headaches, courtesy of the lack of  food in your stomach and Richie’s constant teasing. There was a point in the afternoon, where your patience had grown too thin and you ended up punching him hard on the arm. It did nothing to him, of course, but it did help in reducing your stress on the train ride back to Carmy’s place.

“Maybe I should get some rain boots…” You commented after making your way inside the empty apartment and immediately kicking off the damp shoes.

“What, like Coraline?” He asked from the kitchen, surprising you. “What?” He asked again when he saw your amused expression. “You think I just watch food movies?”

“I dunno, I assumed you’ve seen Ratatouille but that’s like about it.” You joked.

*********

Carmen had probably used his stove a total of three times since moving back and before you started spending the night regularly, not counting that time he almost set his kitchen on fire while sleepwalking, but you didn’t need to know that. He even made an effort to keep his fridge stocked with other things that weren’t half full cans of Coke or stale bread and that he could actually make into a real meal.

When you arrived home -cause that’s what he liked to call it now- you tried to convince him that it wasn’t necessary to make dinner. But you hadn’t eaten anything all afternoon and it would have been completely fine if he didn’t know, but he did, and letting you go to bed on an empty stomach was not even an option that crossed his mind. 

He liked cooking for you. It was the only way he could express how he felt. When words seemed too complicated to string together in coherent sentences, that stuck like thick honey to the roof of his mouth, he cooked them. Whisked them together with a bit of salt and pepper then fried them until crisp, and fed them to you on his best tableware; hoping this way you could understand all the messages his mouth failed to explain. 

‘Only if you eat with me’ You had whispered as you took the skillet off the flame for the second time, a determined glow heavy in doe eyes and he knew that in a relationship with two people pleasers, arguing over who cared more for the other would be a lost cause. So he settled on making something quick and joined you on his small living room floor, where you sat with your feet wrapped in a blanket, computer and a couple of his cook books, drawing out ideas on what he could offer for the gala.

“Don’t we still have, like, three months?” He asked with a heavy sigh that came from stretching out his tired legs.

“Yeah.. but this way you’ll have more than enough time to see what works and what doesn’t.” You shrugged your shoulders and took a bite from your plate.

He chewed in silence, mesmerized as you lost yourself in the rabbit hole of all the different options they could serve for the event, flipping through his books and putting little colored post-its on the ones you liked the most. He had never seen you this excited and it brought a feeling to his chest that, if he didn’t know it was because of you, he’d probably confuse with heartburn. 

Still, he couldn’t shake the looming sensation off his shoulders, the idea that something lurked around the corner, waiting to pounce. Like how he felt before Sugar called him about Mikey, and when he first learned that The Beef was now his. 

For his peace of mind he decided to blame it on anxiety, he had grown so used to always being alert that his body felt wrong when it wasn’t. 'Its probably just a gut feeling' he thought, and he was never that good at reading his gut, anyway.

Chapter 9.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha and that’s it lmao

#carmen berzatto x reader #the bear & the fox #carmy berzatto #carmy smut #the bear & the fox #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fx #the bear tv #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto x reader #fanfiction #fanfic

[songfell-ut]

Songfell anniversary post, pt 1

Eyyy so four years ago today, I posted the first three chapters of my story on AO3, having seen an unfinished comic and gotten permission from the artist to write a fic using her premise. This here is the first piece of Songfell art ever, commission from the OG comic creator, @lostmypotatoes 👌

So! I am not posting any new content for the moment. My mom has been having health problems, including me having to help take her to the ER (she's fine, just needs to stay in bed for a while), which delays actual writings a bit. What I am doing is reposting art from four years of Tumblr! C'mon down memory lane, wheeeeee

(Part 2, Part 3)

This is going to be in VERY VERY approximate chronological order as it depicts stuff in the story. Stuff with no set place in the story will be guesstimated because I have that power ah ha ha ha ha

Disclaimer: I've pulled all of these from posts or reblogs made by this specific blog. If I didn't see or repost any Songfell art you've done, especially for the videos, I did not leave it out on purpose. I threw in exactly one image from Discord for the sake of completing a set, but that was it.

In cases of multiple...okay it's just the fork scene that has multiple iterations because everyone liked it, but besides the opening one here (which is still my AO3 pfp!), the one that was the first piece of non-commissioned art I ever got will be first. Enjoy!

This was the first non-potatoes art in the videos, I believe, done by the superlative @venelona (probably the most prolific of the arts on here), when somebody realizes he's gonna lose 😘

The collection skips ahead to Sans contemplating killing the nice lady and then totally randomly thinking of Kris instead, by @mambourin D: But whaddya know--

See? That's the sound of losing, son

That's the sight of losing, by @sharkowskii, whose work speaks for itself. Here's the whole thing, colored fantastically by Vene.

Know what else they did together, and happens once he's been knocked out?

(Look at this so good holy shit) Frisk's had a bit of a tired, scared cry in the hall, and it's time to face her new guest head-on.

I lost my mind at least a little bit when I first saw these, ngl. I can't find the next page that she did for the compiled "movie" video 😢 But now we're coming up on a fun bit of Songfell lore!

I was scrolling through Tumblr and glanced over what looked like a picture of my Frisk ha ha that was kind of VENELONA DID A THING WAIT WHAT

First ever fanart, that's what. We have a High Priestess who is completely done with his goddamn nonsense, and

Pictured: goddamned nonsense. N-Not like he LIKES you, baka

Aaand here's my Discord pfp, by @xxkoichiixx (who seems not to be on here anymore D:).

And here's a very plausible alternate outcome by @vafro1.

Though this was a bit more like it, thanks to @naomyart.

Oh look a distraction after he was stupid what are the odds (Catler1!)

Last and never least (none of you are >:( so there), puns are dumb and it turns out they're into it. The End...for now

...

Bonus outtake recording illustration from @dale-the-human

#songfell #songfell anniversary post #dale's dogs fearlessly protect her against useable audio

[the1975attheirverybest]

Being Funny In A Foreign Language

Chapter 10- When We Are Together

A/N: the VERY LAST FINAL CHAPTER is here. I hope you like it! Feedback is appreciated and encouraged. Thank you so much to everyone who has read and provided feedback on the chapters of this fic. It was fun to write. Yall made it fun.

Warnings: kink. Smut. A single mention of ADHD. A single mention of addiction recovery.

——

Even though she knew that it was physically impossible, Amelia swore she’d developed superhuman hearing to be able to hear Matty’s conversation with the tall, beautiful blonde woman across the bar. Even over the ambient chatter of the place, it was obvious that the two were flirting. That much she didn’t need to hear. She knew, from experience, how smooth and charming Matty could be when he really wanted to. Not that he had to try, really. Looking the way he does, in the all black outfit, especially that leather jacket he had on, anyone with a pulse would want him.

After what felt like an inappropriately long time, Matty finally meandered back over to the table, his refilled drink in hand, sliding back into the conversation with George that they’d put on hold earlier. Amelia couldn’t believe that he didn’t even bother to look her way of explain his delayed return. She tried to let it go. And she would’ve succeeded, if it weren’t for the fact that the fabulous blonde suddenly approached their table, leaning into Matty’s seat to whisper something into his ear. Amelia tried to employ her super hearing abilities but all she could hear was Matty’s giggle as the woman touched his arm. She almost walked away, but then she looked at Matty again, smiling,

“Do you have a girlfriend, Matty?”

Matty’s smile slowly faded as the question set in. He turned to Amelia, shooting her an apprehensive look. Her eyes darting away, she stirred her drink with its straw, pretending that she hadn’t just been eavesdropping with every fiber of her being.

“Erm….no.” Matty looked up at his new blonde friend, “ I don’t have a girlfriend….it seems.”

The woman said something about how shocking it is that a man like him wasn’t already in a relationship. “Guess it must be my lucky day.” She grabbed his phone off the table, putting her number in. “You should text me sometime.”

Underneath the table, Amelia’s hands itched to get a hold of Matty’s body. His admirer was hardly gone before she had the idea to get back at him by running the tip of her shoe along his leg. He jolted at the surprise sensation at first, confused, assuming she’d accidentally bumped her leg into his, he brushed it off. But as Amelia got bolder, her leg moved further up his body, stopping at the knee a few times. She could see him glancing over at her out of the corner of his eye. He was beginning to catch on. Spurred on by his continued composure, she hiked her foot up higher, first onto his thigh, then, finally, onto his groin. It was a subtle maneuver. Risky. She had to lean forwards, resting her arms on the table to scoot forwards and reach him. Any abrupt motions and it would be obvious that something was going on with her legs. So it required finesse. A level of calm that she had no idea she could muster. Jealousy really is a powerful thing.

She was entertained by the way that Matty’s hands gripped the edges of table until his knuckles had turned white. The coy smile of acknowledgement he’d flashed her earlier had disappeared. He sipped on his drink to distract himself, but the more she rubbed him, the harder it got for him. In more ways than one.

“Night Mark! See you in the morning!” She bid him goodnight sweetly. The wholesome smile dropped from her face as soon as Mark’s door clicked shut. She pushed Matty up against the wall, in the middle of the hallway, her hands, at long last, all over him.

Matty willingly allowed himself to be handled by her in whichever way she liked, his body moving in sync with hers. He rested his back against the wall, eagerly parted his lips, let her bite and nip at them, moaning and whining into the kiss. Vying for more control, she brought her hands up to his face, fixing him in place as the kiss grew longer, needier. When she pulled away from him, it was aggressive, like tearing flesh away, the suddenness left Matty breathing audibly, hungry for more, reeling at the loss of her body overpowering his. He felt lighter without her chest pressing into his, constricting the air in his lungs, and he didn’t enjoy the newfound lightness. He found it overwhelming. Like a piece of paper without a paperweight, blowing in the wind, his knees bent slightly before he regained balance.

They barely made it a few steps down the hallway before Matty found himself pinned against the wall again. This time, Amelia’s hands were around his neck, her hips pushing against his, a knee dangerously close to his groin.

Shamelessly, Matty pushed his hips into hers, rubbing against the edge of her knee for some friction.

She gasped when she noticed what he was up to, stopping her kissing and backing off of him. “Tsk tsk tsk. Matty! Are you already- Jesus Christ, you impatient little- what do you think you’re doing here, hmm?”

Matty smiled, a wide, toothy smile.

“Oh, you better believe I’m about to wipe that smug look off your face in a few moments. Room

Key?”

He pulled the key out of his pocket, grabbing her hand and rushing them both towards the room.

“On your hands and knees, c’mon.” Amelia pointed with the cane to the spot where she wanted Matty positioned.

“Okay, but- but- erm before you- hit me, can I just say I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would bother you.” Matty proceeded to kneel and get on all fours, in nothing but his underwear, as he spoke.

“What?! How dumb to you think I am? You’re going with that as an excuse???”

“Genuine! I- didn’t want to be presumptuous. You didn’t seem particularly bothered by-“

“You’ve got to be fuckin kidding me.” Amelia laughed in disbelief.

“I’m not kidding-“

“Enough out of you! Lose the underwear. I want nothing separating between you and this cane.”

“Fuck.” He shivered, “this is going to hurt.” He mumbled under his breath. But Amelia heard it.

“Would you rather I use the belt? Flogger? What hurts most?”

“Cane hurts most.”

“Cane it is, then.”

Amelia raised the cane in the air, but before she could swing it back down over him, Matty interrupted.

“Erm- I am- to count out each hit?”

“Right. Yes.”

“Okay.” His head dropped.

“You know the rules, yes?”

“Mhm. Count them out. Say thank you after each time, and tap out if I need it.”

“Exactly.”

He glanced over his shoulder “I really am sorry.”

Which prompt her to sling the cane and hit him instantly. The surprise of it made the pain even worse she literally heard the moment that the pain knocked the wind out of his lungs, muting his scream.

He took a moment to breathe, and then with a shaky voice. He started to count. “One. Thank you. Please- m- May I have another?”

“Straighten your back, Matty.” She demanded.

“Right. S-sorry.”

“Quit saying that!” She brought the cane down on him again. Tears quickly pooled in the corners of his eyes.

By the tenth strike, Matty was crying. By the twentieth, she’d had asked, “who do you belong to? That woman at the bar? Any random girl that pays you any attention?”

He shook his head, unable to stop the tears long enough to answer.

By the thirtieth hit, Matty was out of it, deep in subspace, head full of pain and pleasure, he’d long lost count. Instead, he had, for some inexplicable reason, taken to repeatedly whimpering “I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours.” Over and over again.

When her own arm began to hurt, Amelia dropped the cane, her anger disappearing with it, she hurried over to Matty’s body, which had collapsed into a mess on the floor as soon as she’d stopped.

“Hey, hey, Matty? Eyes on me, babe.”

Relieved to see him attempting a smile, she kissed his forehead gently, then helped him sit up. “You good to keep going?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Good. Cuz I’m going to fuck you into submission.”

“Open up for me.” The dildo strapped to Amelia’s waist rested against his lips. Hesitantly, Matty opened his mouth and took it in. Bit by bit, at first, adjusting to its size, then, when Amelia felt comfortable that he was ready, she held him by the back of the head, and thrusted completely into his mouth, getting closer and closer, with each push, to reaching the back of his throat.

Matty moved his head, sucking in, his cheeks hollowed, his tongue moving around the you in his mouth. His breathing shortened but Amelia wouldn’t allow him any relief, even as he was gagging, drool dripping down his chin, eyes watering, she kept him there, admiring the dazed look in his eyes as he stared up at her, unflinchingly, as if to show her with his gaze, how good he was being.

Matty coughed and heaved as Amelia pulled away gently patting his back? Urging him to get into position. He wiped his own saliva off his face with the back of his arm before crawling on his knees to the top of the bed, lying on his stomach.

“Hold on. Need a pillow or something under your waist.” She slid a pillow under him to prop him up and protect his back from any extra pressure and Matty, in his subservient state, thought the gesture was the kindest thing in the world. Smiling and melting into the bed, he whispered “thank you. So much.”

He felt the cold sensation of the bit of lube that Amelia had applied to his skin, pushing a finger into his hole to make sure he was relaxed and ready, then an immense pressure. He moaned as she pushed into him, the feeling overwhelming. Slowly and carefully, Amelia slid all the way in and began to thrust, listening to him mumble unintelligibly.

“Oh- my- fuck…so. Fuckin. Tight.” He winced every time that anything came into contact with the fresh cane welts on his ass, pain mixing with pleasure. Just what he needed to overwhelm and shut down his brain.

“Tell me, Matty, who do you belong to?”

“You. Oh. My. God. I- I belong to- to you. I’m all yours. No one else’s” he rambled on.

“Who owns this ass?”

“Fuck!!! Ah- feels so good…”

Realizing that he was a bit too lost in pleasure, she slapped his injured ass causing him to scream. “I asked you a question. Who owns this ass? Who owns your pleasure, hmm? Tell me.”

“Oh godddd. You do! You. Always you. Nobody else makes me feel like you do. I- ahhhh…don’t care how many girls try…how may women I see around me- it’s always been you. I’ve belonged to you even before I knew it.”

His broken answer satisfied her, putting out the fire within. She smiled down at his supple body, her heart warming at the sight.

“That’s right. It’s just you and me. No one else.” She stated, more for herself than for Matty who had already surrendered his whole being to her.

“A- Amelia? It feels - too good. I- am so close.”

Hearing that, she became determined to take him over the edge. “Oh yeah? Better brace yourself then baby.”

She thrusted into him, harder and faster. His moaning turned to crying, and then screaming.

“Cum for me, Matty. Let go. You’ve earned it.”

She tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, looking into his eyes. “What is it?” She whispered, kissing him.

“Hmm?”

“You look like you wanna say something. What’s on your mind?”

Matty’s eyes darted away. “Well, I just- I want to apologize about the girl in the bar.”

“You don’t have to. It’s over now. You’ve redeemed yourself.”

“No, I know. And- don’t get me wrong, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Genuinely. But-“

Amelia’s brows furrowed. “But what?”

“be fair, we never actually said anything about- I mean…a- are we in a relationship? Are we going out? Like, dating?”

Amelia stuttered, finding herself speechless. She couldn’t believe that he even had to ask. Though, strictly speaking, he was right. There was never a conversation. But only because she’d assumed that there didn’t need to be one. That it was obvious.

“Am I your boyfriend, Amelia?” He smiled, hopeful, at the sound of his own words. “Is that what I am? Cuz I quite like the sound of that.” He giggled.

“Yes, Matty.” she rolled her eyes, faking annoyance. “You are my boyfriend.”

“Hold on! If I’m your boyfriend….that makes you…??”

She shook her head, “that makes me your girlfriend, yes.”

Matty couldn’t help the smile that lit up his whole face. “How cool is that? Hello, yes, this is my girlfriend, Amelia.” He laughed “everybody give it up for my girlfriend.”

“What-“

“My girlfriend is here tonight. There she is, shout out to her what a beautiful-“

“Are you…practicing for live shows? Right now? In the middle of-“

“She’s looking beautiful tonight don’t you guys think? Look at her- oh wow. I’d you’ll excuse me. Think I’m gonna kiss her now.” He leaned in, locking their lips together.

***

Matty heard her spring to her feet, as soon as he walked through the door even before he could see her.

“Hi. You’re back.” She rushed over to him. “So? What’d the doctors say? Do they know what’s wrong?”

“Well-“

“Did they write you a prescription for anything? Do they think you’ll feel better soon?”

Matty squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing his temples. He could feel the onset of a throbbing headache.

“Amelia, please. Calm down. You’re suffocating me.”

Seeing the way that her face dropped in response made him instantly regret his words.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He said softly, extending his hand out for her to take it and pulling her to the bed with him. He throw himself onto it, with Amelia standing in the space between his legs, still holding hands.

“So…” he sighed loudly. “They said it’s definitely the mental illness.”

“Good! That’s good right!” She caught herself being her enthusiastic and tried to hold back.

“Yeah, I mean, the upside of that is- soon as I get that shit under control, everything else goes back to normal. Well, you know. As normal as can be for someone who’s a little bit fucked up.”

This time, Amelia managed to hold her tongue. Smiling and nodding along.

“The thing is, finding the right medicine can be a while.”

“Yeah! I looked into it and I read that- sorry. Sorry. You talk. I’ll listen.”

“No; it’s just….on top of that being a general challenge for everyone, well, recovering addicts like myself are generally advised to steer away from certain pills. And then there’s the ADHD….and finding the right dose or whatever. It’s a whole fuckin thing. Gives me a headache if I’m being honest with you.” He was ready to change the subject. “Just…whatever. Can we do the kissing now?”

“Matty! This is good. You’re doing the responsible thing.”

He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her waist, “I know.” They kissed. “And I have you to thank for that.” Matty paused again for another quick kiss. “You- make me a better person. You make it feel like there’s a version of life where maybe I get to feel better.” This time, it was Amelia who leaned in for a kiss. “But I really don’t wanna talk about this boring shit. Makes me feel unsexy and old and broken. Let’s…be young and alive. Let’s fuck! Over and over again.”

***

Louis looked at his brother, incredulous. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.” He pulled out the ring box from his pocket placing it, carefully, into Matty’s open palm.

Matty’s heart skipped a beat at the feeling over the velvet container in his hand. He popped it open, hardly believing his eyes. “It’s just like I remember it. Only smaller.”

“I know. Always looked bigger on nana’s finger.”

Matty tore his eyes away from the ring to look at his brother. “Louis, I think it’s us who were smaller.” Cautiously, he snapped the box shut.

“I can’t believe you’re marrying Amelia!” Louis nudged him with his elbow, giggling uncontrollably.

“Well, I haven’t asked her yet. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Right! Have you decided about how you’re gonna do it?”

“Yeah, the boys are helping. I think-“ Matty smiled as the realization hit him. He was talking about proposing. To Amelia. Changing both of their lives. He blushed, giggling softly.

“Well??! Go on! What’s the plan?” His brother stared at him, impatient.

“Right. Yes. I’m taking her on our first official, like, ‘date.’ Her favorite restaurant. And, while we’re out of the house,” Matty’s heartbeat pounded stronger as he spoke. Visualizing the moment in his mind with a smile

On his face. “The guys are going to get in there and arrange the flowers and candles. Hand picked by mum of course. Then I’ll let them know to get the fuck out of there before we get back. And I’ll just…do it as soon as we walk in.”

***

“Sir?” The waiter raised a single eyebrow, hoping the heavy pause was enough to nudge Matty into politeness.

“Sorry, mate. Just 10 more minutes? She’ll be here! Any second now.”

“Apologies sir, but- we’ve got reservations…”

“Look, look! She’s texted!” Matty pulled out his his phone. He did, indeed, just receive a text from Amelia.

Please don’t hate me. I’m so sorry. I can’t come. Working all night. They hated all the designs I showed them and the deadline is Thursday.

We’ll have our first date someday….soon. Dont wait up for me, I’ve got my own keys. Love you.

Matty felt his heart shatter in his chest. He stood up from his chair. “Well. I guess you get your fuckin table - sorry. Shouldn’t swear in this fine dining establishment….im goin home. Tables free.”

As he walked to the train station, he texted the boys to undo their work, recollect everything, and leave.

***

“Well, so, what’s the plan now?” George asked, handing Matty a drink.

“He chooses another day and we start over, obviously.” Adam chimed in; he received a supporting nod from Louis.

“I don’t know…this feels…wrong.”

“What does?” Ross muted the tv that had been murmuring in the background, and leaned closer.

“It feels like bad luck to just….re-light the candles and re-scatter flower petals.”

“So?? Buy new ONES MATTY!” Louis had clearly gotten slightly too invested in this proposal plan, the thrill of being the ring delivery man getting to his head.

“What if I just picked a new plan? An island getaway. Like over the weekend or something. After this- this design she’s working on is finished, she’s going to need a break anyway. A beach proposal would be nice?”

“Shall I find some options? Islands and hotels?” Louis pulled out his phone, and without waiting for confirmation from Matty, began digging.

“So….what’re we going to do with the several million tons of flowers that you’ve ordered?” George asked, pointing to the giant pile of flowers in the middle of the room.

“Well you obviously can’t leave them here. I can’t let Amelia see them. Take them home. You each give some to your partners or something. Take them to DH. or find a grandmothers grave or something. I don’t fuckin know. Just- get them outta here.”

***

“Thank you, honey.” Amelia whispered as Matty brought her some coffee in bed, kissing her forehead before climbing back under the duvet to sit next to her.

“Thanks for letting me sleep in” she spoke into her mug, taking the first sip. “I’m so looking forward to work slowing down a bit. This week was mental!”

Matty couldn’t help the involuntary smile that always took over his face whenever he heard her voice, saw her face, or was in her presence. Even disheveled and tired, morning breath and all, she was the most perfect woman he’d ever seen.

“Speaking of rest. What do you say to a quick trip somewhere. Maybe the weekend? We could extend our stay if you fancied. But just a few days off the grid. Reckon it’d do you some good. No work. No email. No indecisive clients changing their minds at worst possible time?”

Amelia squealed excitedly, setting her coffee down on the nightstand to avoid spilling it. “Ooo what’d you have in mind?”

“I was thinking…somewhere warm? A beach maybe?”

“Oh.”

Her lackluster response confused Matty.

“What? You don’t like the idea?”

“It’s- just….beaches need warm weather. It’s the dead of winter.”

“I’m sure we could find someplace warm. We’re not limited by geography. We could go anywhere!”

She bit her lower lip, avoiding his eyes.

“You don’t look enthused.”

She cocked her head, somewhat embarrassed. “I appreciate the idea. I really do. You’re so sweet to think of this. But- well- international travel- you’re always on tour and I- it’s just stressful !”

A strange sense of doom began to set in Matty’s heart. But he was careful not to let any of it seep out to Amelia, keeping a smile on his face.

“Alright. That’s okay. We’ll find something else to do-“

“I’m sorry! You were trying to be sweet and romantic and I’m such a downer!” Amelia leaned into him, clinging to his chest guilty and desperate.

“Don’t be sorry. This- this was meant to be for you. So, if going somewhere far away stresses you out, then what’s the point of doing it. We’ll just do something else. It’s fine.” He kissed her head, throwing his arm around her. “Whatever you like. Where would you like to go?”

“Honestly? Nowhere. Just wanna be here. With you. Our bed is perfect.”

“Well, then, there’s no place else I’d rather be.”

Matty sighed, making a mental note to inform Louis that Plan B was a no-go as well.

***

“We should get a puppy.” Matty said from the other side of the couch, a joint between his fingers.

“Pardon?” She giggled, setting her book down and crossing her legs.

“Puppy. You and me. It’d be great, don’t you think?”

“Matty, need I remind you of the dogs you’ve attempted to own? And how they’ve all ended up in other people’s homes? You’re basically an illegal dog fostering operation. You just get dogs and then place them with people who never signed up to be dog owners in the first place.”

Matty laughed, that long drawn out laugh he always did when he was just a tiny bit stoned.

“Yeah, I do that quite a bit. don’t I?”

“Mhm.”

He brought the joint to his lips, taking a drag. “Well, usually it’s cuz I’m on tour so much. But if we adopted the dog together that wouldn’t be a problem. You’d be here.”

“Hmmm” Amelia considered the idea for a moment. Picturing a sweet fur baby in the middle, between the two of them, snoozing on this couch made her heart flutter. “That would be cute, actually.”

“Unless, of course, I decide to hire you again. To come on tour with me.” Matty mused.

“You assume I’d just drop everything and do it.”

“Yeah but maybe we could bring the dog with us? Reckon we could sort it out….”

“I don’t know. Two people sharing a pet is always dangerous….” Amelia said, second-guessing the idea.

“There’d be vaccines and shit. And we’d have to get it a passport. Do dogs need passports?”

They were clearly branching off into two separate conversations by now.

“Matty, seriously. Isn’t it too soon? I mean, what if we broke up? It’s like…like having. Child. I couldn’t handle separating it from one of us. Having to see it on certain days. It’ll pee everywhere. Even potty-trained pets can start shitting everywhere when their routine is uprooted. We can’t do that to a dog!”

Matty let her words hang in the air for a moment, a smile on his face.

“Fine. Then marry me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Easy enough solution. Marry me.”

Amelia’s mouth fell open. She stared at Matty, stunned. Unclear on how serious he was being. Even if it was a joke, no immediate retort was coming to her mind at the moment.

Matty took another drag of his blunt and then sat up straight to be able to slip his hand into the pocket of his joggers, pulling out the ring box.

Amelia’s eyes tracked his movements, widening in shock at the sight of the box.

“Hold on, sorry” matty whispered, setting his joint down. “Right, then.” He cleared his throat, got off the couch getting down on one knee.

“Amelia, my love, will you marry me?”

“M- matty!”

“I love you. You make me a better man. You’re my best friend. You’re my soul. My muse and my critic and my everything. I wanna be with you forever. Do you wanna be with me forever?”

“You’re insane! Matty! We’ve never even been on a real fuckin date. ‘What happened to- to- get dinner with me sometime.’ ‘See you on Tuesday.’ What the fuck?” She laughed, running out of breath, her face felt hot like fire.

“I think we can both agree we’re way past that.” Matty said, perfectly calm. “You…you know me. You know what I’m like when I’m at my very best and when I’m at rock bottom. In fact, you’ve seen me at some dark and pretty fuckin pathetic moments. And you never turned your back on me. You- make me feel like I might get better. Anytime that I’m with you. Around you. Any time that we’re together. It feels like maybe there’s a version of me that gets better. You make me wanna be a man. As for me? I know you.” His smile widened as he prepared his next words,

“I know how you like your coffee; I know that you like it when people notice your makeup. Even though you try not to draw too much attention to the effort you put into it. . I know that you love your little sister more than anything. But you’re insecure about not being there for her as much cuz she lives so far away, so….sometimes you overcompensate by being a bit overbearing. I know what you like in bed. I know cuz I fuckin taught you. I know that you like when I kiss your forehead and talk to you after sex. I know your favorite tattoo of mine is the WE ARE KINGS one just above my hip. You always give it extra kisses when you can.”

She nodded, welling up with tears.

“The way I know you and feel known by you….its different. treating it like any ordinary relationship just…” he took a deep breath. “Maybe I’m just a traditionalist deep down underneath all that other shit. but….i can’t think of a better way to honor our intimacy than marriage. Let’s get a dog together and never have to split custody. Will you marry me?”

Amelia burst into tears, and a fit of laughter. In between giggles, and wiping at her cheeks with her hands, she attempted to say “yes” but her laughter got worse every time that she tried.

“Sorry, sorry. One- second.” She took a deep breath. “Fuck I can’t believe we’re doing this. But…yeah. Yes! Yes I’ll marry you, Matty.”

***

Matty panted hotly as his body jerked and his hips bucked up, off the bed. He stroked himself inside his boxers, swiping at his sensitive tip, and whining against the pillow as he drew closer to the edges of bliss.

“Fuck, fuck, fu-oh…”

His mind played, on a loop, a distant memory of her hands all over her body, her silvery voice echoing through his mind, cooing sweetly.

“Oh, sweet angel, you’re doing so well.”

“You look so pretty like that. Did you know that? Did you know that you’re the most perfect person on this planet?”

“Good boy, Matty. Taking it so well.”

His toes curled, digging into the mattress, with a strangled moan, he let go, the rush of release overpowering him, ropes of cum spurting onto his lower abdomen, dripping from his body.

“Hi darlin,’ it’s me. Again. I know I’m probably fillin’ up your voicemail at this point, but - ermmm- I miss you, Amelia. I’m sorry. All that shit I said the other week- I didn’t mean it. Just…so, so sorry. I’m - come home, please. Come back to me. I- can’t live without you. and honestly? I shouldn’t have to. You’re my-“ the monotonous voice of the machine interrupted him to let him know that he’d reached maximum recording capacity and that his message was sent. His finger hovered over her name on the screen as he considered calling back, maybe leaving another message. But he’d run out of ways to apologize and to beg. He’d try again tomorrow. He set his phone down on to the bedside table and reached for the lamp, flicking it off, he laid his head down on his pillow in the pitch black room. Another sleepless night.

#matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy smut #matty healy fluff #matty healy writing #matty healy x oc

[bekkachaos]

✨ Bekka's Buddie Fic Recs ✨

I just thought it would be nice to do some fic recs for some of the wonderful creators in this fandom because there is literally so much talent it blows my mind that these beautiful people are out here giving us pieces of their beautiful brains 💕

Long fics and AU fics

☀️ Kiss Me Before it's Over (if only for a Minute) by @buddierights aka the Baseball AU (Rated E, 54k words). Buck and Eddie are pro baseball players on opposing teams, and Buck never gets nervous getting up to bat, until Eddie Diaz, the new star pitcher for the LA Angels, is standing on the pitcher's mound, and his stomach flips and twists. He's pretty sure it's because he hates the guy, until, you know, he doesn't. {I love this fic, it's such a beautiful kinda enemies to lovers ride that you will love every sweet and sexy moment of}

☀️ Let My Ink Stain Your Pages by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels aka the Castle AU (Rated E, 107k words). Buck is a professional crime fiction writer in need of a new muse. Eddie is an LA homicide detective, and the last thing he needs is to be followed around by a reckless author. A sexy six foot plus mystery writer who he absolutely does not find charming and attractive. But when Buck decides that Eddie would make the perfect muse for his new book, that's exactly what Eddie gets. {I might have read this fic 3 times, it's one of my absolute favourites and you better believe I will go back and read it again}

Stupid People by @gayhoediaz (Rated E, 160k words). Eddie is new in town in LA, and he's just come to terms with the fact that he's gay. He figures that hiring a sex worker is the easiest way to explore that side of himself and keep it separate from his son and his work, to keep things uncomplicated. And that's how he finds his way to Buck. His plan works, for a while. {This was one of the first buddie fics I read, and it is an epic sexy, moving, emotional fic that I thought about for so long after, honestly I recommend anything that Nie writes!}

Unless You Ask Me To by @elvensorceress (Rated M, 182k words, in-progress). Eddie starts dating a man, and Buck is completely, one hundred percent Fine(TM). This is a beautiful fleshed out journey of a fic. {I believe one of the tags is 'the most oblivious obtuse pining idiots you will ever meet' and the accuracy of this is insane, I can't wait for the last chapter!}

☀️ never felt this way before (yes I swear) by @rewritetheending aka the dirty dancing AU (Rated M, 50.8k words). Buck and his family go on vacation to the 118 ranch and lodge, where Buck meets a number of new people including Eddie Diaz, and he's pulled into the world of the one-eighteen in a way he never expected, and learning to dance from the most beautiful man he's ever seen. {What more do I have to say other than dirty dancing AU? This fic is amazing from start to finish and so so hot!}

Explicit fics

Bases Loaded by @lamardeuse (Rated E, 2k words). Eddie wants to take things slowly, and Buck obliges him. {It's a sexy slow build between the two of them and just sucks you right in!}

More bang for your buck by @prettyboybuckley (Rated E, 14.2k words). Eddie's got a problem with a noisy neighbour, only, he can't exactly confront him because how do you knock on someone's door and say 'you have the loudest sex I've ever had the pleasure of hearing through the wall'? Because it is, a pleasure, the sound of him is just doing things to him. And then he finds the guy's twitter, and then his Instagram, and he is too far down the rabbit hole to back down. {This is hot the whole way through, and Buck testing toys and posting online? Spicy hot content!}

I lit the match, the firemen can do the rest by @honestlydarkprincess (Rated E, 6.6k words). Eddie needs to see Buck, so he drives over to his place to see Buck getting railed by Natalia with a strap on, and he can't look away, especially when Buck comes just by Natalia mentioning Eddie's name. When she leaves, Eddie feels the need to prove that it's even better when he takes things into his own hands. {This is Eddie pining for Buck and then getting to have him, all to himself}

☀️ today I live for a single drop of you by @alyxmastershipper (Rated E, 38.9k words). This is the 5 + 1 blowjob fic, five times Buck dreams of sucking Eddie's cock and the one time he gets to do it. Nuff said {Ryan just has such a beautiful lyrical way of writing that they can make an epic fic about blowjobs poetic, a masterpiece}

More AUs

mark me like a bloodstain by @monsterrae1 (Rated M, 6k words). A fic where your soul marks appear on your skin when they appear on your soulmate, when they are badly injured. Buck's first marks show up in college, and his first thought is that his soulmate is dead. He doesn't figure it out until his best friend is shot in front of him, and then he realises it's been Eddie all along. {I love soulmate fics and I love the shooting arc, and this fic is just so wonderful from start to finish}

and I'd choose you (in a hundred lifetimes) by @monsterrae1 (Rated E, 16.7k words). Eddie and Buck are pen pals when Eddie is in the army, and god it shouldn't have been so romantic, but he got Evan Buckley. And he thought maybe he might just be the person he spends the rest of his life with, until he completely disappears. Four years later, they meet again, only Buck has no idea who Eddie is. {did I include another Rae fic? Yes I did, because this one was just too good to leave out}

☀️ all I know is a new found grace (all my days I'll know your face) by @heartbeatdiaz aka the photographer Buck AU (Rated E, 4.5k words). Eddie is participating in the annual firefighters calendar, and the photographer is stupidly beautiful. Like, crazy gorgeous with big blue eyes and a smile that makes Eddie's palms sweat. {Photographer Buck is just such a beautiful thing to imagine, and honestly you could hit shuffle and pick any of April's fics and you're bound to love it}

even gods die by @kitkatpancakestack (Rated T, 7.6k words). This is quite a heavy fic, Buck has brain cancer and he and Eddie are at a cabin together talking about his diagnosis and how they feel about it. It's angsty with a hopeful ending. {This is a beautiful, emotional fic and it moved me so much to read. Not for everyone, but wow was this amazing}

Fun, Flirty and Fluffy fics

☀️ To have and to hold (what's mine is yours) by @the-likesofus (Rated G, 3.3k words). It's Buck and Eddie's one year anniversary (paper). Eddie gives something Buck has had all along, that last piece of his heart. {This is such a heartwarming Buckley-Diaz family feels fic and made me smile so hard}

Everything But (temptation) and Worth the Wait by @spotsandsocks (Rated T, 4.7k & 5.4k words). Five times Buck is tempted by Eddie and the one time he finally gives in, or, five times Eddie attempts to tempt Buck and the one time it finally works. {These fics are from Buck's pov and then Eddie's, and they were so much fun to read both times!}

smile to hide the truth by @fallingthorns (Rated T, 5.1k words). Eddie is getting married, only it's not to Buck. And Buck should really say something, should have really said something earlier. Because now Eddie is standing at the altar, only he's staring back at Buck and asking what would make him happier. {This isn't exactly fluffy but god the anticipation and the build up to that wedding, and the ending? You won't regret this read, I loved it}

still by @gayhoediaz (Rated T, 9.3k words). Based on an episode of Castle (are you sensing a theme here?) where Eddie steps on a plate in a house where they've just put out a fire, and he just knows that he's stepped on a pressure bomb. Buck refuses to leave him standing there alone while they figure it out, but time is literally ticking for them. {These two just fit the Caskett shoes perfectly, and this was tense, emotional and just a wonderful read}

between who you are and who you could be by @paranoidbean (Rated T, 5.6k words). Eddie is working at a plasma donation centre, and Buck just keeps coming back in, after making an impression the first time by passing out. {This is an adorable meet cute that just made me feel fuzzy inside}

(tell the gravedigger) better dig two by @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy (Rated G, 7.2k words). In which Eddie is buried alive, and Buck loses his mind with worry and grief. Basically a missing part to Eddie Begins. {This was a beautiful exploration of Buck's emotions as he's afraid he's lost Eddie}

I hope you all enjoy these fics as much as I did, just wanted to spread some love and appreciation 💕

#buddie #buddie fics #buddie fic recs #fic rec #bekka reads #just wanted to share some wonderful stories #please tell me if i tagged wrong!!

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Seven

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Jasper… because I’m horrible at holding out for a slow burn, but it’s tame don’t worry!

Notes: So sorry it’s a day late than normal, work has kept me heckin’ tired. Again, thank you for all the love so far! I can’t believe you amazing people actually like what I write!

Word Count: 1672

Series Masterlist

• March 9th, 2005 • Home •

Reader

Deciding to play sick to avoid going to school since my cheek is still tender from last night, I made a show of spending the morning pretend-vomiting. I managed to convince my mother that I was fine enough to stay home alone today from school. She ended up finally leaving for work twenty minutes late after some encouragement from me behind my closed bedroom door, but only after I heard her rummaging around in the kitchen - laying out supplies for soup, crackers, and bottles of water so that I didn’t have to search for it in my ‘state’.

I’m still fuming from my argument with Jasper last night. I’m beyond grateful for his rescue, but mad he couldn’t tell me how he pulled it off. What the fuck is he hiding? Did Bella manage to get an answer from Edward? I rub my head where my scalp still tingles from the rough treatment yesterday as I contemplate theories.

Grabbing my phone, I flip it open and type Bella a message: My house after school? Mom will be at work.

It only takes a few moments before my cell vibrates: Definitely, Edward told me everything.

I stare at my phone, surprised. Everything? Everything as in, last night? Or why they aren’t allowed on the rez? Why they’re so fucking cryptic all the time? Why no one has been able to penetrate their tight-knit group?

A knock on my front door disturbs me from my thoughts; glancing at the clock, it shows that it’s about halfway through first period already. Who would-

More insistent knocking. Alright, alright I think as I descend the stairs.

“Hello-“ I greet, swinging the door open, but I stop short at who is standing on my front porch: Jasper Hale.

“You’re not at school.” He says, standing there like I offended him by not showing.

“Very astute of you. I’m mad at you, Sherlock.” Folding my arms across my chest, I level him with a gaze that would normally melt a normal boy.

But he isn’t a normal boy and he can’t tell me why.

“Education is important.”

I laugh and fire back, “The truth is important.”

“Invite me in.” He asks, stepping up to the doorway. I know he’s giving me control instead of just barging inside - especially after what happened last night, but who is he to make requests right now?

“No.” I don’t budge, not giving him an inch.

“Then take a walk with me, darlin’.” I can feel my anger waver as I continue to stare into his dark eyes. I try to fight it, but a wave of curiosity douses my anger and I cave reluctantly.

“I need shoes.” I tell him in a clipped tone as I turn on my heel for the hallway closet.

“Grab a jacket too, doll.”

I huff at his request, not happy to take suggestions from him when I’m irritated and he’s being considerate.

“Okay what gives? Why are we tromping through the woods?” I stop next to a tree, refusing to walk any further in silence.

“Ask me. Ask me again.” He turns to face me head on, determination set on his face.

“What’s different from last night?” I ask, skirting what he wants.

“Fuck it.” His arms lift and then drop to slap his jean-clad thighs.

“Fuck it?”

“Fuck it, Y/n. Ask away.” He steps closer from where he stopped ten feet away.

“How did you know where we were-“

“We followed you. We were in Port Angeles after returning from our camping trip and saw you two leave the dress shop. Next question.” He interrupts me like he’s in a hurry to offload the information.

“What’s with your family?” He cocks his head as if asking for clarification. “Every single one of you likes to keep everyone at arm’s length. You don’t have friends, you don’t hang out outside of school. You aren’t allowed on the Quileute res-“

“How do you know that?”

“Bella and I talked to some people - did some research, answer me.” I demand.

“Shit.” I hear him whisper to himself as he takes another step closer and rubs his jaw.

“You’re cold as ice, your eyes change color, your temperament is old-fashioned, I’ve never seen you actually eat anything, you’re always gone on sunny days-“

“Say it.” He says, eyes hard as he closes in. “You did the research, what’s your theory?”

“You-you're a vampire?” I say uncertainly.

He’s backed me against the tree, arms boxing me in as he stares down at me in silence for a few heavy moments, our breathing the only sound in the forest.

He leans forward and my body stills, “With confidence - you smart, pretty girl.” He whispers in my ear, breath sending a cascade of goosebumps down my neck.

“You’re a vampire, Jasper Hale.” A sudden dose of confidence strengthens my voice.

The possibility this man was a vampire didn’t really cross my mind until now. Sure, looking up the answers with the information Bella and I learned had shown that as a possibility. But it’s entirely different saying it out loud, saying it to his face and having him not deny it.

“Good girl.” The praise weakening my knees and stealing the breath from my chest. The guy I have a crush on is a vampire and he just confirmed it.

More surprising, I’m not scared of him. Thrilled, high as fuck on the knowledge that I figured him out, but utterly unafraid.

“Are you scared?” He backs away, eyeing my trembling form.

“No.” I answer honestly.

“Then ask me what I eat. What sustains a vampire?” He’s egging me on to try and scare me, I can see it.

“Blood-“

“Blood.” He confirms menacingly as he turns to pace, burying his hands in his blonde hair.

“Is that all?” I ask, not really sure where to go from here.

He lets out a laugh like the world was just lifted from his chest, the kind you let out on a rooftop in the rain after a stressful day. “Is that all?” He says incredulously.

“Are you just going to repeat my questions? You just dumped something pretty monumental on me, I didn’t want to stop you if you were on a roll.”

He stops walking to face me, expression completely sober, “Where have you been all my life?”

Bella isn’t even all the way through my front door before I blurt, “He’s a vampire, they’re all vampires and he confirmed it.”

Her eyes widen, “You talked to Jasper?”

“You talked to Edward?” I counter, seeing as she isn’t denying my confession.

“I-“ she’s shaking her head speechless, exactly how I feel.

“I know.” I just hold her hands and stare.

“I mean - we did the research.”

“I know.” I repeat. What are we getting ourselves into? What now?

• March 10th, 2005 • Forks HS Parking Lot •

Jasper

“Tell me about being a vampire.” Y/n asks me after checking our surroundings for anyone close enough in the student parking lot to over hear our conversation.

I see Rosalie huff and slam the door to her red convertible, tearing it out of the parking lot. I catch her emotions as she flies by: irritation, anger, annoyance. That’ll be fun to deal with later.

“My skin is nearly impenetrable, it’s like granite.” I lift my arm as she reaches for me as if to inspect my skin. “I don’t need to breathe-“

“That’s why you hold your breath!” She whisper shouts and I’m surprised by her observation. “I can tell when you’re not breathing, you’re shit at pretending.” She says as she turns to throw her backpack in the backseat of her car.

I chuckle and shake my head as I look at the ground, this girl is a firecracker.

“What?” She asks, emotions giving away that she’s self-conscious and I meet her eyes.

In that moment, after a lifetime of being hated and lonely, I wanted something. Not just something, I wanted her. I wanted a mate, I wanted to be chosen, I wanted life.

I wanted her to want me.

Reader

“I want to take you out.” Jasper said, the words almost knocking me off my feet.

“Like in a murder sense?” I joke back, scared of the alternative.

He steps forward and cradles the back of my head in one of his hands as his mouth drifts towards my ear, a rare display of affection in a crowded parking lot and my heart constricts painfully in my chest.

“No silly girl, on a date.” Jasper’s lips tickle as he whispers, his chest rumbling with a light chuckle as his breath and words shoot goosebumps in a tsunami-type fashion down my body.

I inhale sharply, Jasper Hale asking me on a date? I clench my fingers in the front of his shirt, surely this isn’t real.

“Say yes,” he whispers into my temple, “you’re overthinking it.”

My brain function winks out at the feel of his lips on my skin, like he knows the effect he can have on my poor nerves.

“I can’t, I still have homework to do. And you know, chores and stuff.” I whisper back in a trance, squeezing my eyes shut.

Jasper tilts his head back and lets out a hearty laugh at my half-assed response.

“What?” I demand, my brows furrowing in confusion.

“Darlin, you’re so sure of everything until it comes to what you feel. The one thing you’ll never have to doubt is that I’m yours now, ready or not.” He tells me, a confident grin on his perfect lips. “And you didn’t have to take me up on my offer tonight.”

My cheeks burn as I grin at his words, I know he’s right. “I-it’s just-you-“ I stutter, words failing me at his confession.

“Shhh, I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls me back in to kiss my hairline, settling my nerves. “I can wait. For you, I’ll wait.”

Next

#bless-my-demons #redamancy series #twilight #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock hale #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x female!reader #female reader insert #slow burn #romance

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter six: an angel cries

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 8.2k

a/n: no smut in this chapter but i promise (i hope) you'll all still love it!!!! so sorry this took so long but life got messy this last month and now hopefully has returned to somewhat normalcy (whatever normal is for me is still mostly chaotic but hey!) and i can get this series and some other new writing posted for y'all CONSISTENTLY. and thank you thank you thank you as ALWAYS @northernbluess for beta-ing. couldn't survive this hellscape of a website without you <3

In the first class after your argument, Javier doesn’t bat an eye when he marks you absent on the attendance log. He figured that you would skip, wanting to be able to avoid the lecture hall himself but being forced to do his job regardless. A small part of him hoped you wouldn’t break your perfect record, ever the attentive student, but that small part was naive to think that what he said — what he shamed you for — was easily forgotten in the name of a flawless attendance grade for the semester.

The venom laced in his voice that night felt so foreign coming out of him. The words spewed out of his mouth with only the aim to hurt you as badly as he had hurt when he saw you with the other man.

Callow, brutal, vile, spiteful, scared. No matter how many adjectives he used to attempt to brush away those words, that night, the broken look on your face, the tear streaks on your cheeks, he couldn’t get rid of the searing acid bubbling up from his stomach and blistering his throat. Every time he found himself surrounded by some quiet, found himself alone in his office or apartment or car, closed his eyes to fall asleep, all he could see was you, shattered in the streetlamp light, and all he could hear was your voice, coated in emotion and hurling pain back at him:

“I really thought you were different…”

“How can you say that shit when you tell me how much you care?”

“Fuck you, Javier. Fuck you.”

“Don’t fucking call me, don’t pull me after class. We’re done.”

As soon as he said the words, he couldn’t believe what had come out of his mouth. If it were about any woman, he would be shocked to hear them from himself.

But especially regarding you.

His angel. His Bebita. His fresh start. His girl.

The woman he had tripped into meeting and fallen for as quick as that first flash of your smile. He wasn’t going to let you go without trying.

Which is what led him into a routine of waking up each morning, giving your cell a call, and leaving a voicemail. He did the same before going to bed, and would call to leave you messages when something reminded him of you during the say.

“Morning, angel. Jus’ thought I’d try you again. And I know you said not to call, but I need to keep telling you how sorry I am. What I said was…vergonzoso. Disgraceful. Horrible. You never deserved to hear that…I’m so sorry, Bebita. You probably don’t care what I have to say, but hope you have a good day.”

“Hi, baby. Callin’ again. Missed you in class today, I haven’t gotten notice that you dropped from my course, so I do hope to see you Wednesday. Don’t worry about your grade…doin’ just fine, sabelotodo (smarty pants)...I, um, I’m wearing that navy suit of mine, and I reach into the pocket to try and find my faculty ID. Pulled out one of your lil’ doodles, and it’s of me — think ya nailed it. You captioned it too: ‘Relax your brow and smile, grumpy pants.’ Thanks for the reminder, Bebita. Sin embargo, eres la única razón por la que sonrío (You’re the only reason I smile, though.) I’m so sorry.”

“At this point, I know you’re not gonna answer, angel. But I can hope you listen to ‘em before deleting ‘em, so I’m saying goodnight…haven’t seen you in a couple a’weeks. Baby, I know I don’t have any right to ask but can you just let me know you’re alright? That you’re alive? You can call me and give me another ‘fuck you’ if you want…m’worried. Te extraño. I miss you. Parte de mi corazón falta sin ti. (Part of my heart is missing without you.) I’m so sorry.”

He knows it’s a bit pathetic to be calling still after two weeks of unanswered calls. 34 calls, to be exact. 34 voicemails left. About 134 times he wanted to time-travel backward and punch himself in the fucking face before he said shit.

And he’s gotten even more pathetic, even more desperate for any sign of life from you, that he’s taken up a daily email in the last week.

To: B (TheOnlyAngel)

Subject: I’m A Fucking Idiot and I’m So Fucking Sorry (#4)

Hi angel,

This might push you over the edge to receive yet another email and all of the voicemails I’ve been leaving, but I think if you know one thing about me, baby, I am un culo terco (translation: a stubborn ass). And you are probably going to block my number and my email at some point but until then, I’m going to keep apologizing.

Can we please talk, Bebita? I don’t deserve forgiveness but if you can give me some of your time, I want to apologize to you in person. It’s the least you deserve.

Any sign of life would be appreciated. I’m worried about you, baby. I’m so sorry.

J

To: B (TheOnlyAngel)

Subject: I’m A Fucking Idiot and I’m So Fucking Sorry (#7)

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

I hate being away from you. I hate the words I spoke to you. I hate how I belittled you. I hate how I made you cry. I hate how I didn’t care for you. That’s all I want to do, Bebita.

I hate myself.

And definitely not what you want to hear from me, but in case you are reading these and in case I am still in fact your professor, midterm assignments are due in my office mailbox by Friday noon. I know yours is going to be amazing, sabelotodo. Miss you. 

I’m going to stop emailing you and calling you. I should’ve respected the fact that you told me not to.

I’m so sorry.

J

The bell toll of a new email rings over the computer’s speakers on the desk you’re sitting at in the middle of the library. A few students around you snap their heads over their shoulders or around in their chairs to glare at you; huffing out a breath, you sink lower in your seat after turning the volume dial until it clicks off.

4:30PM. It’s the usual hour for his daily emails, something that has been stacking in your inbox for the last week. You should have expected it or could’ve if you had been paying any mind to the digital clock in the bottom corner of the screen. Instead, you’ve been staring at the blinking cursor, stuck in the middle of a sentence in one of your midterm essays.

Of course, it’s for Sociology of Deviance. Of course, he has to send you yet another reminder of him, of his regret — another apology — while you are forced to think about him anyway for this assignment.

The stunted sentence is the product of your mind trailing out, pulling you by a rope wrapped around your heart to that night again. It’s been two weeks, and you haven’t seen Javier at all, but you can’t shake the image of his face, twisted into an anger you had never seen from him but with a pain so deep in his eyes that you could fall into it and never know your way back up. And you can’t silence the echoes of his words to you, each repetition sounding even more cruel, even more virulent than the last.

“I’m a job to you, just work.”

“Don’t. Don’t pull that shit, you knew what you were doing.”

“You know, I thought when I was signing up, I would have someone just for me. Didn’t expect to get someone for everyone.”

“Was I really just some fucking job, a shift you scheduled every week?”

That night, standing in front of him at his car, you were so remorseful for what you had hidden from him, what you had lied about. Thinking it was all done for his sake to keep at a distance and not hurt him. It was done for your own protection. Not wanting to get hurt yourself. The amount of care that you hold for him — even still, as angry as it makes you — scares the shit out of you. It feels different from anything else, like your eyes have been opened fully, vision clear, and your heart is beating to a new rhythm.

Instead, now it thumps in slow, tired pulses. Aches in your chest at all hours of the day, every day. Even after trying your best, Javi had left a mark, a big one.

And the calls, the emails, they all kept pressing into that mark, thumbing that deep-tissue bruise to turn it to a muddy purple. You hate yourself for the amount of times that you have thought about forgetting what he said, calling him up, and saying you needed him. You knew it was pathetic. A bigger part of you hates yourself because you know it’s true. You need him. Not in the can’t-function-without-someone-to-be-dependent-on way but in the I-need-somewhere-to-put-all-this-love kind of way.

You love him. No point in denying it now. And your love is screaming at you every second of the day to pick up one of his phone calls, to interrupt him as he’s leaving yet another voicemail, to send a note in response to an email.

Those screams are still getting tamped down by your anger — that side of you that is still more powerful, tougher, and grittier than its opposite: the tender, pliant, delicate you.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you navigate out of the document and into your inbox. The subject is bolded along with his name, the mark of it being unread. Titled the same as the rest, you click it open expecting more of the same. And while it starts out in the usual manner — typed apologies and varied descriptions of how he feels about himself, what he said, how he hurt you.

But the second to last line makes your stomach flip, something out of the ordinary: 

I’m going to stop emailing you and calling you. I should’ve respected the fact that you told me not to.

Is he giving up?

Why the fuck is he giving up? Has he decided you’re really not worth the effort? He can’t be damned to actually see it through, to hold out hope that you would maybe respond?

Anger bubbles in your gut, sending the simmering heat across your body and kicking up your heart rate. Seriously, fuck that. You may have gotten annoyed with the constant contact, but at least he was trying. Clearly, he doesn’t care to try to apologize in person that much, or to hear any sign of life from you.

God, why does it have to hurt this much?

Redirecting your rage proves useful to start the essay again, words flowing from your fingertips and the clicks and clacks of the keyboard drowning out the voices in your head. By the end of the night, six hours later, you pull your hand away from the mouse; assignment proofread multiple times, a confidence in your capabilities blooming when you drag the cursor to press the ‘Print’ button.

When you gather your papers from the printer across the room, stapling them together ordered and aligned, the sinking feeling returns. After midterm break is over, you’ll have to go back to class. To see him twice a week, watch him lecture with his furrowed brow and a perpetual frown. To listen to his voice and wait to hear his usual affections that won’t come. To simply be around him and to try to not fall right back into his arms.

Muscle memory carries you from the library to the bus stop, getting on your usual route home with those thoughts continuing to consume your spare space in your mind. Simple reminders flash in your head between the thoughts, all conjured up in Javi’s gentle voice: Third floor up to your apartment, baby. Turn the key to the right to unlock. Remember to close the curtains, angel — locks in the minimal heat to make it last through the night and keeps you out of view from the street. Drop your backpack on the ground for tomorrow. Kick off your shoes, take off your coat, cariño. Brush your teeth and wash your face, you can shower in the morning. Change into your pajamas, and don’t forget to turn out the light next to your bed. Go to sleep, my good girl, get your rest. Goodnight, Bebita.

Clicking the end of a pen over and over, Javier watches the clock as the deadline for his grad-level midterm ticks closer. The curriculum notes sitting in front of him blur as his mind drifts from his work — back to you, of course.

He’s forgone his voicemails for the last two days, emails drafted and left there. If there was any chance for you to agree to meet him in person, he didn’t want his incessant, honestly a bit obsessive, contact to be resented. You asked him not to call, not to say anything. And he did the exact opposite of that, thinking it was right.

Without the outlet of speaking to you (even if you weren’t listening or reading), his thoughts have been able to spiral and morph, recognizing in himself exactly what he was afraid of at the moment he saw you with someone else.

It wasn’t about you, it never was about you. Those words he spoke were lashed out in anger, in fear for what was possibly waiting for him on the other side of this ‘arrangement’ with you. He was all in, he was in love and held out hope that you felt the same way. You care, that is obvious to him, but without openly communicating, he was left to pack away his feelings to keep the dynamic normal for you.

But when you were with someone else, laughing at whatever the hell he was saying, making you smile, touching his arm, he couldn’t tamp down the repeated thought — I want to be the only one for her.

And what did he expect? How could you want to be with someone like him anyway?

Damaged, jaded, flawed, worn-out, and starving for something he doesn’t deserve: happiness.

Did he do it all wrong? Come on too strong and you went somewhere else to find what you wanted, even if it was just a job? He didn’t even ask if you wanted a relationship. He was so head over heels that he fell into it, treating you as if you were his girlfriend without ever asking you.

Is that why you don’t feel the same? Because you can’t see anything but his past with him? Half of your relationship with him is born out of his professional failures — never being there when they caught Escobar, the Cali godfathers with a future that they might walk freely, resigning from the DEA.

Is he even capable of loving you the right way or being loved back? There has to be an answer, and he selfishly is aching to know. Did he give you enough love, or did he love you in the right way? The answer must be no, for you to keep up with other men, other clients.

The sound of quick-moving footsteps pulls him out of his derailing train of thought, the thumps of the feet on the carpeted hallway slowing right in front of his office. In the crack between the floor and the door, he sees the shadow of whoever is on the other side, and one quick look at the clock tells him it is a last-minute submission. The slip of paper against paper sounds, the stack dropping into his plastic mailbox that is next to the entrance to his office.

The shadows of the student linger, seconds clocking down until he goes to open the door and collect. Part of him wants to drag himself out of his seat and do it now, simply to see who this last submission was by in person, but he waits — at least that student got it in on time, they don’t deserve the professor intimidation.

Shifting around, the shadows of the shoes under the door fade as footsteps begin to slowly recede, giving him a cue to get up and collect the assignments. Opening the door, he sticks his head out and checks both directions down the hall, no sign of a student in sight. With a sigh, he turns to his mailbox, dreading reading some — actually most — of the essays in the group. Just because you get into grad school, doesn’t mean you need to be there. And he isn’t even that much of a stickler for grading, some people just…don’t have the academic talent for essay writing. And they shouldn’t be sharing their opinions.

With an eye roll to no one except himself, he takes the stack of papers and allows his eyes to fall on the first one to flick through. Reading the name on the top of the page, he freezes in place at the door to his office, straddling the line between the public space of the hallway and the privacy of his office.

Yours.

That means that it was you outside of his office only a few minutes ago; you lingered, and the pull of your force is nearly driving him to go in search of you in this building or across the whole campus if he could see a glimpse of you.

All he can picture is you standing at his office door, knowing he was probably on the other side. You stayed, even for a few seconds — were you debating on knocking? Were you thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you? Did he lose a chance to talk to you, to see you, because he sat around for a few seconds after you walked away?

Immediately, his eyes drift down to the material, starting to read and be brought into whatever thoughts you have had in the last two weeks. It may be only relevant to the subject of the course, but he could listen to you speak about anything for any amount of time, and reading your work is all the same. A slice of you, even if the focus is on something totally different from what he is desperate to know from you.

At that moment, the stack of assignments doesn’t seem as bleak, and he sets them all down on his desk, shrugging the suit jacket off his shoulders and discarding it across the sofa. Sitting down in his chair, he’s determined to get through the essays and submit the grades to the Dean, a plan formulating in his head about how to see you while he flips to the next page of your assignment.

Adrenaline pumps through his veins, making his limbs feel lighter and his steps echo heavier in his mind. In one hand, he holds the stapled packet curled in a C-shape, running the pad of his thumb across the edges. Perfectly timed, he approaches the entry to the building as a resident walks out, exchanging a nod in acknowledgment with the man as he slips inside. Craning his neck up, he looks at the staircases, relieved to hear silence. Climbing to the third floor, he halts at the last stair, taking in a deep inhale and letting it out slowly, his nerves prickling across his skin as he faces whatever is ahead of him.

Taking a handful of steps forward, he settles at the door that is his destination, holding his breath for a few seconds before reaching his hand up to knock on the door. It’s confident but not aggressive, and hopefully, intriguing enough for the knock to be answered.

With bated breath, he hears the faint sound of footsteps, the same familiar cadence as yesterday. The click of the deadbolt being undone and the scrape of the chain being released quickens his pulse, hands toying with the papers in his hands. With a breeze, the door swings open and his eyes immediately find your face.

The wind is knocked out of him, his brain short-circuiting at the sight of you. His vision tunnels, focus on dragging his gaze around to catch everything he’s missed. Supple lips still slicked with your glossy lip balm, soft skin of your cheeks that his fingers are itching to run across, the glittering of light in your eyes that sends a tingle down his spine. You’re clad in an oversized sweater and sweat-shorts, plush socks on your feet.

You look as beautiful as ever to him. But you look tired.

And he knows that it’s because of him.

“Hi, Bebita.” He barely manages a greeting before he hears your voice for the first time in two weeks.

“Jesus Christ, Javi,” you huff and shake your head, reaching up for the door and starting to close it. One quick step lodges his foot in the doorframe, catching it before it closes fully. One of his hands grabs the edge, an inch above yours.

“Javier, move your foot.”

“Wait, wait, hold on—”

“What do you want, Javier?”

“I came to return your midterm — I didn’t know if you would be in class, and you deserve to get your grade back when everyone else does. I guess this is technically before everyone else, but…I wanted to see you.” His big brown puppy dog eyes face you as you take him in, gripping the door harder. The buttery, relaxed leather jacket stretches across his shoulders, one of his usual button-downs on underneath. His legs taper in from his torso in his dark blue jeans, black boots pointed toward your door. You can see the desperation in his face, the anxiety present in his wide eyes, chin tilted down, and gaze looking at you through his long, dense lashes. His mouth hangs open slightly before he takes another breath and speaks, “Y’know, you really fucked the curve for the whole class by gettin’ a hundred percent, sabelotodo.”

Javier passes the paper to you, unfurling it and showing off the marks at the top of the page.

“Graded completely objectively. This was excellent work…” He stands in silence while you look at the red ink on the page, your stomach rolling with pride and sorrow. “I really think we need to talk, Bebita.”

“The nickname. Please, Javier,” your voice is thick when you look back up at him, tears threatening your waterline.

“M’sorry, sorry…do you—would you give me five minutes?” Swallowing hard, he wipes his free hands on his jeans, clamminess coating them from the nerves. You take a moment, weighing your options.

Getting to slam the door in his face would be satisfying. A dig back at him without having to say anything.

But the louder part of yourself is scolding that behavior, telling you to let him in to at least allow him to apologize. And that same part selfishly wants to know what he has to say and if it will relieve any of your thoughts and growing insecurities born out of this whole situation.

“Oh, fuck’s sake…” you mumble under your breath when you reach your decision, pulling the door back open with a sigh. Your eyes avoid Javier as you nod in the direction of your living area, “Come in…got five minutes.”

“S’all I need. Promise I will leave when you want me to.” He passes you, clasping his hands together as he gets a waft of your perfume and your shampoo melding together, squeezing with the urge to wrap you up in his arms and press his nose into the smell.

Pausing steps in through the doorway, he looks over at you and tilts his head down to his feet, glancing back up at you as he shyly remembers, “Shoes off, right?”

A flicker of something lighter crosses your eyes, a small nod in confirmation. Javier toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, clad in a pair of socks you pointed out in a store a few weeks ago and giggled about in the middle of the shop: light purple, patterned with black and white cows feeding on patches of grass.

Maybe he’s projecting, but he can feel his heartbeat skip as he watches the most minuscule lift at the corners of your mouth.

Glancing around the familiar space, he notices a few differences from how it’s normally kept. Blankets are strewn across the couch, clearly unraveled to free yourself to answer the door; dishes dot the surfaces around — mugs, bowls, plates, cutlery, wine glasses all dirtied and left there; your hobby crafts are abandoned on your small bistro dining table, all aside from a sketchbook that you quickly shuffle over to flip closed.

Disarray. At least, from what he’s been privy to. Never has he seen you in this state, either at his place when you made yourself at home or here at yours when he stayed over. You’re tidy, and you certainly were never bored with all that you did to occupy your time — it was either roping him into doing something, playing a game, posing for a doodle, or, well, other activities that he was definitely a willing participant in. But this — this wasn’t like you. You could be distracted, sure, but never to the point of a sedentary lifestyle.

He can feel his skin burning and chest cinching painfully as if almost completely caving in on himself. He’s itching to discard his jacket, to feel the cool air on his skin, but he doesn’t want to make himself too comfortable and, in reality, he doesn’t think that would help. Shame snakes into the spaces between his ribs, nestling deep within his chest cavity and coiling around his heart, the slow tightening squeeze of the pain he’s caused you trickling down his blood supply.

He didn’t know what to expect, but this was much more than he ever considered. Bile rises in his throat, simmering in his esophagus as a question replayed in his head — selfish and indulgent.

Did you feel that much for him to be this hurt?

“You can sit down on the couch if you want.” He can hear the trepidation in your voice, eggshells cracking under his feet as he treads lightly, both physically and with the words that he’s planned out to the syllable. As he was grading last night, he took breaks in between each assignment to work through what he wanted to say to you if given a chance. Almost to the point of writing it down, he packaged up his apologies to hand to you with a plea.

Carefully sitting down on the couch, his eyes track your movements as you stand, debating whether or not to take the seat opposite of him on the couch, or to take a seat at the dining table on the other side of the room, still close enough in your budget apartment to speak comfortably.

Javier can’t begin to describe the jolt of energy, soothed with cool relief when you choose to sit on the sofa. Curled up into the corner, pillow tucked into your lap to form a shield against the confrontation, but nevertheless, you’re the closest you’ve been to him in the last two weeks. The entire place smells of you and exudes your energy through the walls covered with your own art and other pieces that you’ve collected over the years, from thrift stores and flea markets or handed down from relatives. Soft furnishings in a gradient of colors melt him a few inches further into the cushions, a complete opposite to his place that is especially drab and boring without you there breathing the life into it — into him.

Toying with the tassels of the throw blanket laid underneath him and over the back, he clears his throat in the silence. He follows the flick of your gaze to the brass-framed clock hanging above your table, the click of the pencil-thin second's hand ticking loudly in the lack of conversation.

Five minutes. You said five minutes and here he is wasting time saying nothing.

The turn of his stomach revitalizes the anxiety thrumming in his veins, the pump of his pulse, and the rush of his blood in his ears sounding like the crashing of ocean waves despite being in the middle of a land-locked city. His fingers twitch with nerves, his whole body feeling as if it’s on high frequency, overwhelming energy shocking his limbs to stillness while his brain fights for dominance of his nerve endings.

He’s felt more confident in interrogations with deadly criminals or negotiating hostage situations.

Swallowing hard, he finally takes enough deep breaths to slow his heartbeat and gain control of his body, a long inhaling before he stutters out a pathetic beginning to his apologies, “Um. Fuck—sorry, I’m no good at this…”

The first words out of his mouth after two weeks of begging you to hear him out, and it’s ‘I’m no good at this.’ Are you wasting your time? Is this going to put you in a worse place?

All you want is for something to settle — the uncertainty of holding out on him or not knowing what he’s going to say to you exactly has eaten you alive after so many long days. Whatever the outcome is, you can deal with it, but this limbo — the purgatory before knowing if you have to survive your time in hell or can be brought into forgiveness, for him and for yourself — heightens your already present fears and festers your growing insecurities.

“I take it you’ve never had to apologize like this?” It comes out harsher than you meant it; some of it was meant to cut, but another part of you was genuinely curious. Has he never had a relationship like this? Has he never had to apologize to a woman he’s dating because he doesn’t date or because he leaves before an apology is necessary?

Are you about to be one of those women that he leaves before he apologizes?

“No — I mean, yes. Wait, no, fuck, I have had to apologize like this before. I mean, it’s me we’re talking about, I fuck up everything…” he chuckles at his own attempt at a joke to lighten the mood even a fraction, “I had this whole thing planned out from last night. Tried to rehearse it and everything, but seeing you, it’s completely wiped my mind. You don’t deserve some line-by-line bullshit apology.”

He shifts in his seat, inching closer and cheating his body to face you completely. One leg on the cushion, bent and hooked under the one that keeps him grounded. The change in his position makes you scoot, centimeters closer to the edge, plotting your escape to the bathroom or your bedroom when the inevitable tears start and when Javier walks away, possibly for good.

The tiniest voice in your head is yelling at you for feeling so sorry for yourself, for him probably coming over here to give you an apology and leave you behind because you’re used, you’re shameful. The voice is telling you that you should be angry with him, not crying over him any more than you already have the last fourteen days. When the sound of Javier’s timbre floats to your ears, that voice is silenced and the craving for him begins to unfurl itself from the tiny compartment you packed it away in.

“I am sorry, angel. So, so fucking sorry. What I said to you was completely out of hand and so disrespectful and absolutely not what I feel about our situation or about you. Not an excuse, just trying to explain to you what was going on in my head…I just — when I saw you with another guy, all I could think about was how I wanted to be the only one for you. It was naive of me to think that you wouldn’t have any other clients, I mean, I was the new addition and I thought I was the only one because you were the only one to me. And that is completely my choice, the whole damn reason I signed up for the service in the first place was to find someone that I could spend time with to avoid my loneliness, and well, it worked maybe too well for me. I was, and still am, completely enamored by you, cariño. The second I saw you, in that first class, I was done for. And then when it turned out to be you that I was talking to through our emails, it felt like it was a sign from the universe or God or fate, whatever you want to call it, but it was natural. I remember thinking to myself that night at the bar, ‘Of course, it was you’.”

“And all those feelings that I kept to myself, all the times when I wasn’t clear with what I thought we were, it all caught up to me that night at the event, and seeing you with another man, I was so afraid for what I was about to lose that I cut it off myself and lashed out at you. Anger is all I have known for so long, angel, and I never wanted you to be on the other end of that. I was nasty, and malicious, and I wanted to hurt you in that moment because I was hurt. That was completely unfair, unwarranted. You didn’t do anything wrong, you never explicitly lied to my face to say that I was the only one you were seeing…I know I fucked up. I regret everything I said to you that night, and I hate myself for hurting you. I know you probably don’t want to hear it but I need you to know how sorry I am. It was fucked up, what I said, and I understand if you still don’t want anything to do with me if you still want to end all of this. I wouldn’t blame you.”

It takes a few beats of silence after he’s given you everything to consider, the words taking their time to sink into your mind and truly register all that he is saying to you. It would be easy, comfortable, to completely brush everything away and accept his apology outright, but you know that if you want anything more out of this…relationship, then the two of you have to work on your communication, and you have to be honest.

Clearing your throat, you sit up from your sinking posture and raise a shaking hand to your face to skim over your skin, flicking away the hairs from your periphery. Tears sting in your eyes, a quiet sniffle filling the silence between the two of you. Thrumming with anxious energy, your body jitters and your voice wavers as you speak back to him, mustering the courage to sit in your discomfort of confrontation and say your piece.

“I told you that I thought you were different because you were different to me. I did have other clients when we were together in our own arrangement, but from the moment I met you in person as ‘Angel’, there was a shift. Something out of the ordinary from all the other times I’d met someone new…I cared, Javi. I still do. I care about you so fucking much, and that’s why it hurt so much that you said all that you said. If anyone else that I was ‘with’ told me that they thought all that about me, I would simply roll it off and terminate our arrangement and move on. But you — Javi, you are so much more than a job to me. You were never a job, even from that first night. I was always excited to see you, catching your eye in class and sneaking off into your office hours even just to steal a kiss. I forgot how we even met, technically.”

In the breath you take, Javier affirms what you said, “I forgot, too. I think I forgot what it all was the second I found out it was you that I was talking to. It didn’t matter how I got or kept your attention, just that you were giving me any.”

Nodding, your eyes fall to your hands fiddling with the pillow in your lap, lifting them from the plush square to rub your eyes, the tears you had been fighting slowly winning their battle.

“That was why it hurt so much, Javier. I couldn’t believe what you were saying because it was so unlike you, and to hear it from you, the person I care the most about, it was just…devastating. When there have been other people in my life that have found out what I do, and they’ve said the same type of things, it hurt, of course, it did, but you, Javi—” A choke of a sob interrupts you, tightness building in your chest as you swallow them down, you tears falling faster and emotion thickening your voice. “You made me feel so small. So insignificant, and—and dirty. I couldn’t live with myself thinking that you felt that way when you looked at me. That I was used, that I was merchandise bought and returned to many times and now I get to be tossed aside…I could compartmentalize when other people told me the same things because I justified it as my job. But you were never a job to me, so when you told me that you weren’t expecting ‘someone that was for everyone’, I just…I immediately felt like I was less because I wasn’t serving you how you assumed I would. That I wasn’t living up to your expectations…”

“I quit. I wasn’t in class this week ‘cause I’ve been having meetings with my academic counselor to figure out if I can manage classes with a different job…when I quit I told them to refund you everything that I could give back to them. What happened, completely changed it all for me and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to go right back into it and act like it was normal when I felt so horrible about what I was doing because you don’t like it…”

“Cariño, no, no, no. I hate that you think all of this because I was being fucking stupid. And you absolutely did not need to quit, I would hate my fuckery to be the reason you have to add more stress to your life by balancing a different job and school. I mean, even searching for a job is a lot—”

You interrupt his rambling, wanting to soothe his spiraling anxieties about your well-being, and not wanting to seem like any more of a burden that he has to care for or take on. That your insecurity around being dependent on men like him, on him on his own, is still present despite your resignation. You want him to see you as strong, independent, formidable. Someone he doesn’t have to worry about.

“It’s alright, Javier. I have a new job already. Don’t have to worry about anything for me…” The lie is blatant to you, but hiding your face down toward your lap aids in disguising your tells, and it skates easily out of Javier’s radar. He doesn’t need another reason to think less of you.

“Angel, m’always gonna worry about you…”

Your bravery streak continues when you lift your head, facing him across from you head-on. The sight you’re met with takes you back, Javier bent over with his elbows to his knees, his hands covering his mouth and his eyes red and glistening with tears of his own. The shine of damp tracks on his cheeks is shown in the low lighting of your apartment when he turns his head toward you, the absolute disappointment, guilt, and pain oozing from his big, brown eyes.

Peeling his hands away, they twitch with the need to reach out for you before settling in his lap; Javier shakes his head as he takes in your own visual emotions, tears flowing freely.

“I am so, so incredibly sorry that I ever made you feel any less than you are…” His own words are coated in emotion, a few stray tears falling down his cheeks. “I can’t apologize enough for hurting you, baby, and I will do anything I can to mend any of those wounds I created with my careless, angry, thoughtless words. There is nothing you have to live up to, angel. I miss you. So fucking much. And I’m the biggest fucking asshole on this planet to make you feel any less beautiful and incredible and caring and angelic and lovable than you are. You deserve so much better than what I gave to you, and I would give anything to try to make it up to you. Even if nothing more comes of it, I would love your permission to earn your forgiveness.”

Javier takes in an audible breath, a slow exhale as he moves closer to you, still enough distance in between that you can read that he doesn’t want to cross a line. Every part of him faces toward you, completely tunneled on you still folded into the corner.

“I’m all in for you, Bebita. I could give two shits about whatever arrangement you had, what you did in the past, nothing. All I want is you, all I need is you in my life and that is it. I will work every day to earn your forgiveness and earn back your trust. I want to show you how much I care about you, angel. I don’t want to go anywhere, just want to be wherever you are and do anything I can to take care of you and protect you and make sure you know how fucking special you are. You’re my one-of-a-kind girl, Bebita, there’s nobody else like you.”

His assurances, his pledges to spare you from any more hurt, from him or others, swell your heart. Drawn toward his again, it beats loudly in your ears, drowning out any doubt, and the deep, quick thumps flush out the confusion and the shame that was growing within your chest. Sincerity is evident in his words and in his tone; there isn’t room for anything but a genuine promise to make it up to you, to work to prove himself once again.

Forgiveness may be a long road, and a terrifying prospect to start out again, uncertainty of the future disguising any pain it might cause you. But the fear flashes in your mind as excitement for half a second, a shock to your system after the last couple of weeks. Looking at Javier at the end of that night two weeks ago is completely different to him now, vulnerability clear in his eyes and feelings voiced; the sight of him shaken up takes you back to that night, walking outside to find him leaning over the hood of his car, breathing erratic as he stood with his eyes closed, trying to calm down.

In that moment, all you wanted to do was curl up around him, and show him that you care despite his annoyance and anger with you when he went out to smoke on the patio. It’s the same now, your feelings, your love, desperately begging your body to move toward him, to break out of the locked box that you had attempted to keep it in since he broke your heart. You had told yourself to be strong, to fight what your heart was telling you, but it occurs to you that strength can be listening to what you want, what you need, not what you think you should be doing. Battling with your mind has exhausted you, and now you want to return to comfort — return home. To come back to him, even if it will take a long while to feel how it did before.

“Okay…” you start, voice softened and anxious energy channeled into your fingers fiddling with the trim of the throw pillow in your lap. “You have my permission to earn my forgiveness, Javier. But I can’t make any promises to you about when or what it’s all going to look like—”

“Bebita, as long as I have you in my life somehow, I don’t give a damn about anything else. I only want to be around you, for as much or as little as you want me.”

Another silence falls over the room, much more comfortable than the previous one. There’s a clearness, a breath to the air that was heavy and dense before; your shoulders feel looser, your heart the tiniest bit lighter. Blinking back the pooling tears at your waterline, a handful fell freely in the process, carving out the last of the streaky paths that littered your cheeks down to your chin. Javier’s hand taps the pads of his fingers against his dark blue denim, the same hand slowly reaching out for you, fully extending to rest on the pillow in your lap. His pinky stretches sideways next to your own hand, nudging your little finger before you hook them together without a word.

Sitting with a pinky promise made without a word, warmth passes between the two of you and you can feel his pulse through the minor contact; it slows the longer the two of you are still, breaths returning to normal, regulating the calmness you always felt around Javier in quiet moments like this.

The tiniest of voices breaks the silence streak, making the first sound at the next tick of the second hand from the clock on your wall; it’s Javier who speaks, gaze focused on you as he meekly, more tentative than you’ve ever heard him, “Can I hold you, Bebita?”

The name no longer feels like the burn of a branding, instead feels like sinking into your own bed after being away for days or weeks; plush, cozy, comforting. Just right. A small smile finds itself tugging at the corner of your mouth, nodding slowly with the tears dried on your face. Unraveling yourself from the curled-up position, you discard the pillow to the floor and crawl over to him, a short two feet. Before you make any movement to draw yourself any closer, Javier takes advantage of your willing proximity and wraps his arms around you, pulling you to settle in his lap. Strong, steady arms tighten around your frame and press you flush against him, his eyes combing over your face with devotion before he curls into you, face notching into the space between your neck and shoulder. The weight of his head drops onto you, drawing you to melt further into him.

Your own arms snake their way around his neck, wrapping him up in an easy hug.

“I don’t wanna leave you again…” he confesses in a whisper below your ear, rasp roughing up his words but raising goosebumps on your smooth skin.

His tension completely relaxes under your touch, heated breaths exhaling condensation against your skin before the molecules of his breath evaporate with your rising body heat. The scent of his hair flutters your eyes closed, the loss of your one sense heightening your ability to pick up the subtleties of his smokey whiskey, the spice of his burnt tobacco, the freshness of his vetiver and bergamot aftershave.

“You can stay if you want…haven’t really been able to sleep without you.” The admission pulls his face out of its spot, leaning back with the same tight hold around you keeping him close. Brown eyes search yours, softness and sadness rounding them as the slightest frown finds his lips.

“I’m sorry, Bebita. S’not gonna happen again, I won’t let it. M’gonna be here for you, always.” One of his arms loosens, pulled to the front of you, and reaches up to tuck your hair away from your face and delicately trail over your cheekbones, down your jaw to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger. “Always, Bebita.”

In deliberate and careful movements, Javier leans in, testing if you’ll turn away. When the denial doesn’t come, he inches closer, nudging his nose against yours before catching your lips in a tender, fragile kiss. It’s sweet and conservative for Javier, the man who is normally confident in every one of his actions. Aiding in settling his nerves, you return the kiss with a hair more heaviness, deepening it to breathe him in and taste him on your lips. A craving satiated, fulfilled before anything moves further.

Pulling away, he rests his forehead against yours, his hand holding your jaw and the other running his fingertips up your spine. His touch is expert at relaxing you, melding you two together again with his heat, pulling and shaping you to fit exactly where you belong — with him.

A whisper back to him, as meek as his initial request to draw you close, “You promise?”

“Lo prometo, Bebita. No quiero dejarte ir. (I promise, Bebita. I don’t want to let you go.) I mean always when I say always. Whatever you need from me, I’ll give to you, baby. Te adoro. (I adore you.)”

want to be on my taglists? fill out this form!

taglist: @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @swiftispunk @atinylittlepain @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @anoverwhelmingdin @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @jbb-sgr @joelsversion @mrsquill @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @jrosie25 @caffeinated-validation @burningnerdchild

my kofi

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña au #javier peña angst #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x f!reader #narcos fic #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction