#this ended up taking me over 3 hours lmaoooo

[transjudas]

And so time with age It turns the page

#mcredit #mcr #my chemical romance #gerard way #gerardwayedit #userkam #this ended up taking me over 3 hours lmaoooo #but i got all but a couple of years from the last two decades in this!! #they're so beautiful

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

can you make one with matt murdock where they're good friends but one night they're drinking and having fun and then the reader kiss him but when they making out he ends up saying someone else name and the reader leaves, later on they talk and reader apologizes for misreading their relationship and continue to be friends but theres tension in it until bradley finally admits that he likes her and he try to make up for all the time lost

~Friends Don't Treat Me Like You Do~

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none really, embarrassment?? Alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries (nothing major)

Genre: mostly fluff very minor angst

Summary: You've had a crush on your friend for a very long time and when you finally make your move it goes terribly wrong; And that's why friends should sleep in other beds // and friends shouldn't kiss me like you do ... // my friends won't love me like you - Friends by Ed Sheeran

A/N: I know it's a typo of some sort but it's sending me to the moon that the name Bradley is jus thrown into this ask cuz I can't even figure out what it's replacing lmaoooo anyway thank you for requesting! I hope you like it anon! :3 (also I didn't edit this plz be nice)

***

Your friendship with Matt Murdock is in some ways rather unconventional. You've been friends for many years, but these days most of your interactions consist of him stumbling over to your apartment at odd hours covered in bruises you don't ask about- not because you don't want to know but because you're pretty certain you've guessed it and you're not sure what acknowledging it would mean. So you don't ask, instead, you give him food, and tend to his wounds, and talk to him about whatever comes to mind until he inevitably falls asleep on your couch for a few hours and sneaks out early enough to go back to his place for his day job as a defense attorney with his two friends. Both of whom you'd consider friends- although not nearly as close as you are with Matt.

Tonight Matt's invited you over to his place. Apparently, he's been feeling a bit guilty that most of the time you've spent together in recent days has been just him coming over in the middle of the night. As if you'd ever actually be annoyed with taking care of your friend. Your friend you feel for more than he can ever know. Still, he insisted you come over for dinner so you did, he ordered your favorite from a takeout place near his place and now you're eating and drinking wine you brought along with you. Well, you're drinking wine, Matt's been helping himself to the beers filling his fridge.

"Whenever you come over I do all that talking Matty so today you can do the talking this time. Tell me what you've been getting up to lately." You tell him once you've covered asking each other how your day was.

"I don't do anything interesting y/n- I go to work, spend all day reading or writing lengthy opening statements or discussing things with Foggy and our clients until ungodly hours according to Karen. Sometimes they drag me out to Josie's but- there's really nothing I 'get up to' and you know that."

"Why do you do that?" You frown.

"What?"

"Make yourself seem so dull when you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"I've known you for a long time Matt and I can't think of single period of our lives where you had nothing interesting going on and yet you always talk about yourself as if you're the color beige personified. It's like you're worried that if people think you're too interesting they'll," you trail for a moment "find out something."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing in particular. You're just way more interesting than you want people to think. For some reason."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're not exactly an open book either."

"You got something to ask me about Matty?"

"No." He shakes his head. You stare at him for a long moment.

"We should play a game!" You announce.

"I don't really- have games?" Matt says.

"There are tons of games that don't require having anything Matt we just have to pick one."

"Like what?"

"We can play 20 questions- the right way, last letter first letter, I'm not a fan of Ghost but we can do that too, or word replacement- to name a few."

"I'm- not familiar with those besides 20 questions?"

"Well, last letter first letter you pick a category and we name items except the last letter of one item has to be the first letter of the next one so like if we're naming office supplies and I say stapler you'd say something like ruler. And Ghost is a spelling game, kinda like hot potato meets Horse the basketball game- so like you take turns spelling a word and you don't wanna be the one who finishes the word- if you do then you get a letter from the word ghost- first person to finish ghost loses. And then word replacement is just a silly game where you pick a movie or show title and change one of the words to the silliest thing you can think of." You explain quickly.

"Let's do the title one. Requires the least amount of thinking and I don't have to compete with you." He says.

"Then I'll start. Fast and Constipated." You giggle.

"Fast and Constipated!?" Matt's laugh is incredulous.

"Yeah, fast and furious but not so fun."

"Okay um- John Tucker Must... Juggle."

"That's way less fun than him dying." You laugh.

"True."

"What a Chupacabra wants."

"Goats- obviously."

"Shut up." You giggle.

"Now you- resent me 2."

"Oh that's- why would you say that?" You chuckle.

"I dunno I'm too drunk to think of movies." He mutters.

"All I've got are rom-coms in my head and those titles are not nearly as fun to fuck with. Two weeks- paleontologist?" 

"Paleontologist!? What movie was that even supposed to be?"

"Two weeks notice. Duh."

"I don't think I know that one." He frowns.

"It's about a woman who ends up working as the PA for some rich businessman when she tries to protest something he's trying to build- I forget the details but he turns out to be a giant useless manchild and when he disrupts her personal life for something frivolous she tries to quit but somehow they fall in love or whatever. It's been a while since I've watched it honestly." You shrug.

"Rom-coms are such a curious collection of movies."

"True but that one is pretty average compared to some others I've seen."

"Do you watch a lot of them?"

"I like to laugh at them mostly." You say. "You know what's a weird one? The Notebook."

"Is that not like- a classic?"

"I mean yeah but like the guy gets the girl to go on a date with him by dangling off of a moving ferris wheel."

"And that works?"

"Somehow! I mean I guess she didn't wanna feel responsible for him dropping himself off the wheel in front of an audience but I dunno it seems like he was just looking for reasons to die in that movie." You explain. "Although I never finished that movie maybe he does die. Except then it wouldn't be a rom-com I guess. It would be more tragedy, like in the Shakespearean sense."

"You are always somewhere else." Matt laughs.

"Not always! Oh! I brought that CD you wanted to borrow. We should play it." You sit up suddenly and grab your backpack.

"Are you sure all you've had is that bottle of wine?" Matt asks sitting up slowly from where he's laying on the floor.

"Where's your player?" You ignore his question.

"Should be in the bookcase." He waves absentmindedly.

"Do you want another beer while I'm up?" You ask walking over to the radio to pop the CD.

"Nah. I'm good thanks." He says. Music fills the apartment, and you can't help but sing along to the upbeat tune from Matt's CD player. You dance, well mostly spin, around the apartment giggling as you go.

"Are you dancing?" Matt turns towards you with a smile on his face although you're not looking at him.

"Of course I am- I love this song. Do you wanna dance with me?" You ask walking towards him, still dancing but less now so you can get where you're going.

"No no- I'll leave the dancing to you." Matt says before you make it all the way over to where he's sitting on the floor.

"Suit yourself." You shrug but when you attempt to change directions you trip on your backpack still on the floor and go tumbling towards the ground. Matt moves quicker than you'd expect for a blind guy off several beers but his arms shoot out and yank you towards him before your head hits the hardwood.

"Careful y/n." He says softly as he settles you into his lap.

"Do I need to be if you're here?" You joke smiling at him as you toss your arms over his shoulders.

"Y/n-" Matt's tone is warning in a way only he could get away with using on you.

"Relax Matty, I know to look after myself." You say quietly. Matt frowns slightly as if he's going to protest, but you don't let him get the words out. Alcohol coursing through your system, you seize the opportunity of his closeness and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it. Matt lets out a noise of surprise, he heard your heart rate spike sure but he couldn't have guessed this was why. His lips move against yours for a second before something catches his attention and he's gasping out a name. Except, it's not your name.

"Karen." He breathes and it reaches your ears like a bucket of ice water dumped on your head. You jerk back suddenly.

"Oh my god-" You say scrambling out of his lap. "I- I am so sorry. I'm gonna go." You grab your bag and b-line it for the exit before Matt can even get to his feet.

"H-hang on a second y/n I-"

"I'll- I'll see you around Matt." You force yourself to say before leaving his apartment. You feel sharper than the amount of wine you've had should allow as you walk the few blocks to your place. Only once you're back in the safety of your own home do you let yourself wallow over how absolutely embarrassing that was. You might have just ruined one of the most important relationships in your life only for him to call out for another girl. You stumble into the shower in hopes of washing away some of the embarrassment you feel, or at the very least distracting yourself enough that you can shelf it and get some sleep. You spend hours tossing and replaying the moment excruciatingly but eventually, exhausting wins out and you do fall asleep. The next couple of days you pretty much ignore Matt's calls and texts. You really bury yourself in work to avoid dwelling on that awful night but you know you can't dodge him forever. Evidently, two days is as much as Matt's willing to give you to do so because on day 3 of avoidance he comes knocking at your door late at night as he sometimes does.

"Look- I know you've been avoiding me and all but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say Matt no need. I'm sorry I overstepped, I- I totally misread things the other night but hey- alcohol will do that sometimes. I'm sorry. We're good though. I'm good. I just needed a minute to lick my wounds of embarrassment. Everything's fine. Come on let's see the damage tonight hm?" You lead him into your apartment ignoring the confused look on his face. You let yourself settle back into your routine with him, patching him up, giving him food, getting him up to speed on the last couple of days of your life, telling stories, and just talking until he falls asleep on your couch. You're determined to shake this stupid crush of yours off and go back to the way things have always been between you. And if you're gonna shake this crush step one is putting yourself out there. Which you do, and for the next few weeks you find yourself on dates almost every night. Tonight's date is going surprisingly well all things considered. He'd planned to take you somewhere that ended up being closed after a freak accident the other day that he didn't know about. It was around the corner from Josie's so you brought him here instead and the conversation has been well worth it- even in a place like this. The one downside is that it's Friday and Foggy and Karen usually drag Matt here for drinks on Friday. You had hoped they'd skip out on that tonight but you of course could only be so lucky. When the bell over the door rings and you turn to see Karen leading Matt into the bar with Foggy behind them you almost want to groan. Dating has been nice but seeing Karen and Matt so close is like picking a scab. You turn back to your date with a smile, intent on ignoring the trio, except of course it couldn't be that simple.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n! Hey!" Karen beams at you.

"Karen! Hi! Foggy, Matt, good to see you all." You smile.

"You didn't tell us you'd be here tonight." She says.

"Well I didn't plan on it otherwise of course I'd have let you know." You tell her. "James this is Karen and that's Foggy and Matt. They're friends of mine. They all work together we've- kind of crashed their spot tonight." You tell your date.

"Oh! Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Nice to meet y'all." James shakes each of their hands. "Did you guys- wanna join us? Since it's pretty crowded in here you might not find another table."

"That's so nice of you James!" Karen says. Very nice indeed.

"I'll track down some chairs." Foggy says. You shift your seat closer to James to make room at the table since apparently they'll be joining you. You try not to pay too much attention to Matt's silence as everyone settles around the table.

"So y/n, you told James how we know you but you didn't mention how you know James. Are you guys work colleagues or something?"

"We have a mutual friend that set us up." James offers.

"Oh my gosh! We're crashing a date?! Why didn't you say so?" Karen shakes her head.

"No no no don't even worry about it, we've been here a couple of hours already. I invited you to sit with us so the night could go on." He says.

"Asking me, also would have worked." You smile.

"You guys are just the cutest." Karen sighs.

"I'm guessing this is a first date since- y/n's never mentioned you before." Matt says.

"It is. Not that I have to tell you about every guy I see." You say.

"You tell me everything." He scoffs.

"That's not true and even if it were that doesn't change the fact that I don't have to."

"So you keep things from me?"

"Am I missing something?" James chuckles.

"Matt and y/n have been friends since they were teenagers. They fight like they're siblings sometimes." Foggy explains.

"Sorry about that James. Matt's just-"

"Like a brother- I get it. I have siblings so I definitely know what it's like." He nods.

"Exactly." You smile.

"Like a brother." Matt quirks an eyebrow at you.

"As good a way as any to describe us." You nod. Matt hums and raises his glass to his lips without another word. The five of you sit and talk over drinks for another hour before you're ready to leave and James is happy to walk you out.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." He tells you.

"Even with the date crashers?" You ask with a goofy grimace.

"Heck yeah! Your friends are great." He laughs. "Next time I'll have my friends crash us. How about that?"

"Next time?"

"If you're willing. I'd really like to see you again."

"I- I'd like that." You nod.

"Cool. I'll- start coming up with second date ideas."

"Hopefully this time the place you pick doesn't impromptu have an incident." You laugh.

"I will quadruple check." He tells you. When you reach your block, but not your building, you stop and turn to him.

"Sounds good. I'll see you around James." You smile. He leans forward and kisses your cheek softly.

"Goodnight y/n." He says and walks away. You make it up to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and take a long shower. You enjoyed talking to James and you actually are interested in seeing him again for sure. Soon you're showered and pajamaed and pretty much ready for bed but before you can flop into it there's a knock at your door. Who could be knocking on your door right now? A quick check shows you it's Matt standing in your hallway.

"Matthew?" You open the door with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Well- right now I'm wondering what you're doing in my apartment."

"Like a brother to you?! Seriously? Last time I checked most people don't make out with their brothers."

"Depends on where you are I suppose." You shrug. "But regardless Matt that was a mistake we both know that." You shake your head.

"A mistake? Is that how you feel about it?"

"How I- I'm sorry did you forget calling out Karen's name while I was kissing you?! Cuz I've been trying to so if you've got tips to share on how that'd be great."

"Goddammit y/n." He sighs dropping his head.

"Matt you really should go. I know you worry or whatever but- James is, nice and it's late I'd like to go to bed."

"Screw James." Matt scoffs.

"Um- it was only our first date- you're skipping a few steps."

"That is not what I- it's like you do this on purpose."

"What are you doing here Matt?" You sigh. 

"I don't like you dating him. I don't like you dating anyone for that matter. How could you kiss me like that and just... move on like nothing?"

"I dunno it's pretty easy when you call me the wrong name." You say.

"That was not what you think."

"I'm sure."

"It wasn't y/n. I'm serious. I could-" Matt stops and lets out a breath. "I'm Daredevil." He says.

"I know." You nod.

"What? You know?"

"You come in here at the witching hour every few days covered in bruises Matt how many explanations could there possibly be for that?" You roll your eyes.

"You never asked."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready." You shrug. "Why tell me now?"

"Since I can't see- my other senses make up for the loss. They're like- very developed. I heard Karen scream somewhere in Hell's Kitchen, she sounded like she was in trouble that's- that's why I called out her name. I thought maybe one of Daredevil's many enemies managed to connect her to me. It wouldn't be the first time, I'm always listening for her and Foggy these days and I just-"

"Well was she in danger?" You ask.

"Nightmare." He mutters. "But by the time I pieced that together you were gone."

"Of course I was. Having a man say someone else's name when you kiss him is not something that encourages-" Matt cuts off your snarky remark by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. You react quickly, kissing him back, your hands wrapping around his wrists. By the time you pull away from him, you're breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I wasn't clear about it." He says.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well in my defense I've spent the last few weeks trying to get over you-" Matt kisses you again, hard, possessive, fiery.

"Don't." He says.

"Obviously." You grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. You spent years thinking you'd never get to kiss him, now that you know the truth you fully intend to take advantage and Matt has years of pining he wants to make up for.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil fluff #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil #requests

[yxstxrdrxxm]

So I ended up fast forwarding a bit and writing this drabble for Boss x Friend! Darling……ahahaha I hope you all enjoy this scenario >:’3

Note:: All Boss x Friend! Darling stories take place in the AU where Boss wins in One Last Call

-

There is no romantic proposal.

But that is fine for a “marriage of convenience.”Rather than an emotional proposal in a special place, the two of them are just signing legal documents in Darling’s home.

Aside from the marriage contract, there are many things to discuss—ring designs, living arrangements, cover story for their coworkers, whether or not they’ll have a wedding. The whole time, Darling acts serious and meticulous; it’s a side of her that Boss doesn’t see often.

Then again, he expects nothing less from a senior manager of Celestia Inc.

If things went his way, this marriage would be “real.” Alas, Darling still refuses to give her heart to him, hence why Boss is yielding to her terms. It doesn’t mean that he has given up, though.

Now that they’re married, he will have more opportunities to win her over emotionally. And thanks to this agreement, no one else will pursue Darling or judge them for their previously single status.

“And that’s it.” Darling signs the prenup and looks up to face him. “Here’s to our shared future. Let’s hope you don’t do anything to make me regret this decision.”

“I could say the same,” he shoots back. “I can only imagine the many ways you will test my patience moving forward.”

Not that he dislikes it. By now, the both of them know that Darling has him wrapped about her finger. It’s funny, really—in his desire to control her, he is controlled by his desire for her.

“If you are going to blame anyone later on,” he continues, “it should be yourself for forcing my hand to begin with.”

“Now, now.” At that, Darling’s lips curve into a familiar smile. Her next words sound better than any yes or I do. “Don’t be so mean to your wife~”

Now all that’s left to own is her heart.

-

And they lived happily ever after—jk it will still take months/ years for Boss to make Darling say “I love you” to him. At least he gets a partial victory in another universe xD

I still have more ideas for what happens in Boss x Friend! Darling’s relationship before they reach this point, and aahhhh I can’t wait to make Boss even more of an asshole + boyfailure <3

I hope you don't mind that I did a small continuation to fuel the thoughts of making him a boyfailure btw LMAOOOO

It should've been a loveless marriage.

It should have. That should've been what was expected from the two of them.

And yet, as he found himself one night, years past their first day in being 'married', he found himself unable to put focus on such a thing. To remember that, in a way, this isn't what he could bargain for in the long run.

It was a night like no other. A peaceful, idyllic one, if not for her back turned to him. And his turned back to her as well, for the sake of personal space.

Husband and wife, turning themselves against each other. Such a record, he found himself thinking, but he couldn't bring himself to say yet another word.

Boss— no, Alexander— often had troubles in his mind. Even as the Boss of one of the partner companies of Celestia Inc., the one that focuses on MixMatch as a whole and running his own shady business below, he still found himself thinking through the night.

It left him to stay up, unable to get a wink of rest. And he despised the thought.

Normally, he would find himself able to relax and sleep after 4 hours. He was an insomniac, but nothing that couldn't be solved if he idled long enough with nothing in his mind. Although, as he found out, this was not what he had hoped to occur.

Not with her.

After a while of idling and praying to Gods above to help him sleep to no avail, he turned his body to face her back. He could hear her breathing, even when they're not too close to do such a thing, and his hand quietly reached over to grab hers.

He isn't fond of vulnerability. He's never fond of thinking he should be... Open to someone without thinking they'd stab you on the back.

He hates it. Loathes it to the very core of his being. He couldn't fathom of how people can trust those that could bring them harm, that could simply ruin them if they so much as tried to put their trust and get in fights with them.

But as he held her hand, he felt his shoulders relax. He felt his body lose its tension.

... He's such a fool, he thinks. Just how badly must he crave for someone who'd never love him, when he, himself, can never bring the same commitment?

Maybe it was a curse. A poison he willingly drank, foolishly thinking that no one would catch his eye.

He knew his days were numbered, but in such a night like this, he found himself thinking that it wouldn't be so bad.

He's grown softer. Cordial. Over the years he spent with her, his walls weathered down and became nothing but mere wooden remains. He even found himself thinking that he could simply be laid to rest, and he'd be happy, so as long she remains by his side.

But he will never say that to her.

His pride, his ego, his mind will never let him.

He can cry in anguish all he wants, and truly, he could— but he knew that the day they were together, it will always remain this way.

It was unrequited from the beginning. Maybe he's deluded himself so much into thinking he's had a chance, but he isn't stupid.

So, for now, he will cherish the littlest things he gets from her. He'll cherish the only thing she's allowed him to get.

Her heart will be a grandeur treasure he'd take and never return, but he's content in the time they spent together. In a bit of an irony, he found himself thinking that their time was worth more than just an organ.

After all, what use is a heart if it stopped beating?

Will there be use of an organ when the memories will be the thing left beating?

He didn't knew. No one else knew.

And for once, that left him in a stupor.

Perhaps he can think about this some other time.

Not when he has her in his hand, just like tonight.

#💌 ;; promising letter: one last call #💌 ;; message delivery #💌 ;; fine print: ''boss'' #💌 ;; to my beloved: jessamine

[thedeviljudges]

i just have to rant more about what’s been happening at work because i cried on the way home today.

more shit started on friday where a client emailed asking what publications we were going to be pitching to for this upcoming release. the release is influencer-based, so of course, we’ll focus on those outlets. however, my boss was out flying, and the girl helping with the account who just started 3 weeks ago, asked if she should reply. so i told her to tell them that we’ll focus on influencer and maybe tech. well, in a follow up email WITH the client on it, my boss basically said something along the lines of: this is the first time i’m hearing of tech outlets. we’ll focus on influencer outlets, and we can pitch to tech but they won’t give a rat’s ass about it. which basically through the new girl under the bus for something i’d advised her on instead of calling/texting her for clarification.

then today, i decided to work from home because we had this work event thing, and i live closer to it. it doesn’t make sense for me to drive 30 min to work, then to this event and all the way back home. that’s over an hour in the car and just a waste of time and gas. so i text my boss this. she says ok what’s going on. i don’t reply because i don’t get what she means, but then she followed up with: if you don’t want to come to the event, i can have another staffer go, etc. etc. just out of the blue when i’ve never said i didn’t want to go. i told her exactly why i wanted to work from home - bc of the distance and it just doesn’t make sense. so then she follows up with another guilt trip text about how there’s a lot of stuff to prepare/set up and she’ll just end up doing it all. so i basically had to quickly get ready, go into work and literally help out with one thing bc guess what.... we have other staff who can help. bc it’s not just me who has to do everything. later, another senior came in and asked if i was okay and basically said the issue was me not asking if i could work from home but telling my boss i would. as if i’m not grown. as if i haven’t worked here for nearly four years. as if i’m lazy and don’t get my work done when this fucking firm would not be alive if it wasn’t for me, lmaoooo.

so this happens, right? but it gets better. so we’re in our morning meeting that goes over the week, and at the end, she talks about thanksgiving and when we get off, and she basically said she doesn’t typically have it in the books for us to get friday off, only that thursday (thanksgiving day) but she’ll let us take off and that most agencies don’t close that day either (a lie). and then she didn’t even give us enough time to reply before she starting going “thank you” to prompt everyone to tell her thank you, and then went into a whole rant about how she tries to do nice things for us, like the last time she bought lunch and no one said thank you either, and how would we feel if we did something nice without a thank you (as if i don’t do this....... all the fucking time already). and not hearing it just stops someone from wanting to do more nice things.

i cannot tell you how mad i was after all of this. to the point of shaking and wanting to go in there and quit on the spot. it’s not just disrespect but the absolutely emotional manipulation, the guilt tripping even though i have proved myself time and time again. i’m so sick of it, and it’s going to be so hard for me to stay before i can find another job.

[heich0e]

omg liv so i did see your post right on time before i was about to start getting ready thank you so much !!! <3 so i recently started getting into wearing cargo pants too !!! but i don’t have any cool ones just a black pair and a beige/khaki pair but i will def look for fun pattern ones next time i go thrifting🫡 i ended up wearing black cargo pants and one shoulder ribbed white tube top. he paid for the both of us which is kind of rare for him to do. maybe it was the one shoulder tube top bc it did make my titties pop *insert devious hello kitty meme* the arcade was so much much fun we were over there for two hours and then i asked him if wanted to go eat afterwards and he agreed so i suggested going to get ramen and we spent like another two hours at the ramen place. he was gonna pay for our food but i whipped out my card and said i’d pay out of habit (me and the my home girls take turns paying whenever we’re out and about). oh and i’ve been so touch starved that i’m still thinking about our awkward ass hug

Anonymous asked: oh shit i forgot to add the 🦋 to my last ask i think LMAOOOO —🦋

STOP I CAN PICTURE THIS OUTFIT IN MY MIND'S EYE I BET YOU LOOKED AMAZINGGGGGG. i was going to say i have been LOVING one shoulder tops or tops with cutouts on one side bc they r just so funky and rly add something to an outfit without being too overt abt it!!

this sounds so cute little guy i am so SO happy you had a nice time and i am SOOOOOOOO CHEERING U ON!! go love!! go crushes!! wooooooooooooooo

#liv got mail

[crgirlsworld]

Always curious about other people’s take on soulmates. I don’t expect anybody to read this but if you do plz leave your input lol I don’t even wanna know how many words this is I’m sorry in advance

I totally believe in them and the concept of fate/red string theory & all that shit, & I’ll tell you why.

I met a guy for the first time 11 years ago, I was l was literally 12. He’s actually related to one of my old best friends, and I was staying at her house & he had a basketball game they happened to be going to, so I had to go too. The irony is that staying with her was total our if the moment & I was close to never meeting him that first time.

Anyway, he’s 14, a freshman in high school at a different school so ofc I think he’s cute as fuck and he made me laugh so hard when we went to eat dinner that night. I didn’t see him again for almost 3 years because there was really no reason for me to cross paths with him.

Fast forward to the beginning of basketball season of my freshman year & his junior year. He’d ended up moving to my school at the beginning of that year, but he was an upperclassman so I wouldn’t ever have a reason to cross a genuine path with him. Anyway, the basketball coach was my biology teacher and was seriously my favorite teacher in all 4 years of hs, so I was talking to him between games & this guy walks up mid conversation and just joins in like he’s known me my whole life and I’m ofc like 🙄🙄 your ruining my conversation mister but like the way he SMILED at me I can still fucking remember to this day.

I was actually planning to leave before his game but I ended up staying and me being a #boldgirl I slid into his fb messages and tell him that he played good and that it was good talking to him & we talk for a bit & he goes on to say ‘I hate using messenger, text me’ and gives me his number. Plz you can’t even imagine the fan girl I fangirl’d.

Anyway, we talked every day. Used every excuse to text about literally anything. I was at color guard practice one day & we practiced right outside of the gym where the guys were practicing basketball & they walk in our area to the water fountains and he looks at me and winks and I 🫠 all of the girls saw it too and were like AHHHHH with me and my face was so fucking red LMAOOOO

Biggest problem with us and the only reason we didn’t end up together was because he had commitment issues. He’d had a long term girlfriend that he wasn’t with anymore that he was still hooked on because she liked to string him along (I still want to punch her in her throat and she’s married now).

I ignored every 🚩🚩🚩 known to man because I was genuinely falling head over heels in love with the guy. He pulled me every which way, making me think he felt the same before immediately retracting. He talked to a couple of different girls during times where we’d fight but it always came back to us it seemed like. (Even said coach from the first game could see it)

Track season came around and I was at every meet and we hung out every Thursday for the entire day. Thursdays are my favorite day of the week, to this day.

Friday nights we would both usually be at home, talking to each other and watching movies separately but together. We talked one night for hours. We texted watching Forrest Gump, then The Notebook & then he called me to tell me he wasn’t going for all to me anymore because of how it ended. Then we stayed on the phone and watched the most terrible low budget horror movie ever. We were both pretty tired by then, so it was no surprise when he fell asleep during the second horror movie but like THAT ONE WAS SO MUCH SCARIER but I didn’t want to turn it off because I wanted to tell him all about it the next day.

The next year he graduated. He was dead set on going into the Coast Guard and his mom included me in everything. Telling him goodbye before he was basically unreachable while he was at basic was literally crippling. We went from talking every day to not talking for twelve weeks.

After basic he gets stationed in Maryland, (for ref im in Texas) & it sucked because he was so far away but FUCK I MISSED HIM. We started FaceTimeing at this point. My sleep schedule was absolutely fucked, because I’d stay awake with him while he was on duty until he made me go to sleep at three in the morning, because I still had school.

The first time I ever truly felt like my heart had gotten ripped out of my chest was when I was 17. (Two years post re meeting him) he was my best friend. I was beginning to accept that was all we’d ever be, but I’d also never had to see him with another girl. He always told me that he wasn’t in the right place to date.

So tell me why this mother fucker brings a girl he’d been talking to from our town to a party he knew I’d be at. Literally all of the air left my body when they walked in. Anyway, he brought one of his friends from the CG home while he was visiting, and me being petty, decided I’m going to flirt with this guy all night. Tell me why boy gets jealous and is a total cockblock all night.

I start talking to this new guy I’d met at my new job, and we hit it off pretty well, but I’m still regularly texting my situationship, never fully getting past everything. We were in kind of an awkward place though because he’d really fucked with my emotions.

Things are beginning to get pretty serious with work guy, who soulmate guy had no idea about, but anyway. Soulmate guy calls me up one day and I answer it cause it’s what I always did. He’s like “hey can we talk?” & im like o gr8 what could possibly go wrong. Mind you, this is a couple of weeks before he’s getting ready to move closer to home. Then he’s like “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I realize how absolutely stupid I’ve been. You’ve been the only person constantly there for me the last 3 years and I really took that for granted. I really want to give us a shot.” And I basically ghosted him.

He tried to make plans for me to come to dinner at his mom’s and I was pretty shady about it, not wanting to straight out say I was seeing someone because I was so fucking scared to close that door in my life.

Move forward to now, he’s got a wife and two kids and seems mostly happy but who am I to say for sure, anymore? We talk occasionally, but we cross paths often. Usually it feels like no time has past.

On my 22nd birthday he texts me and tells me happy birthday & I was like oh wow you remembered & he’s like I tell you every year and I’m like shut up but it’s true because even if we weren’t talking on a regular basis he’s always made sure to tell me happy birthday. He happened to ask me if I ever thought about what life would’ve been like if I’d agreed to try things with him and I didn’t hesitate in telling him that I thought about it every day. He tells me that he was stupid in high school and acted like he wasn’t in love with me when he was & when I tell you that, as I’m sitting at my desk at work, my heart rate jumped to 165. Ironically I’ve been prone to palpitations since then lmao

I run into him at work events in the community & my stomach knots every time he stops to talk to me. I’ll think about him and run into him at the store in the same day.

I write about him like this because he was my first muse & he got me into writing. I write about him like this because I’ve never gotten over him and he still holds a piece of my heart and I miss him every. fucking. day.

#soulmatethoughts #red string of fate #this hurt to write #literally sobbing #soulmate #blurb

[lebretdonna]

A month has passed, the worst is over and I have waited long enough, I cried enough, I isolated myself enough, I drank to oblivion enough, I waited beside my phone dying for a text to save me from my misery enough, April is a new beginning, renewed my gym subscription, deleted every account I had permanently and made new ones, I am in the best shape I have ever had in years, my birthday is in 3 months, I have 3 months left to live my 21st year to the fullest, to start my 22nd year with a healed heart and be a new woman free from attachments, my friend is taking me to a bar next week and introducing me to his friends hopefully one of them is a lesbian lmao, I can now make moves on every man I was attracted to physically but rejected because of my naive loyalty when I am with or without him, lmao the second week apart I saw a man in the cafe he was so attractive I literally ran away from him once he sat next to me, I knew if we clicked I wouldn't get my hands off of him, his veiny neck and arms gave me chills, I wish I stayed because at the time I ran away from this potential he was out there having a date with the whore he got matching French hats for... Fucking liar told me he got me this grey one for me while wearing it with her why tf anyone would use someone's present? One for a photo and one for a date LMAOOOO present my ass fucking liar, imagine your bf of 5 years never posting a pic for any dates you ever had but ran to post the date he had with whore he just knew in 2 months and breaking up with you because of her and then posting a story having a glass of wine with her with the matching hats he got for her was I fucking stupid to tolerate this shit? And typing "home" beside her fucking name? One fucking hour from leaving me because of her???????? What the fuck? How tf did I bear seeing the man I love break up with me to hang out with the woman I hate? How tf did I let that slide and BEGGING HIM to forgive me for thinking badly of him after he fucking broke up with me once and blocked me to hang out with her and in the second time refusing to take me back so he can have 1-4 good months with her and like even if they didn't fuck my man choosing another woman over me and leaving me for months and spend time with her and the other whore instead is straightforward cheating how tf did I let it slide? Holy fuck now I relate to selena gomez's lyrics "in two months you replaced us like it was easy, made me think I deserved it in the thick of healing" in her song lose you to love me, I really have to hate him to love me, everyday goes by I hate him more and it gets more impossible to ever get back he keeps betraying me every fucking day, I was willing to save myself, my heart and my body for one man only for the rest of my life without ever feeling like I am missing out on something because to me love was enough but where has it led me? Depression, overdosing on sedatives daily, alcoholism and beyond... no more self-destruction for someone who never deserved me or loved me from the start and ended up betraying me and ghosting me, everytime I wrote down my hurt for losing someone it got easier, I wrote about 3 people in the past here and I moved on from them all and never looked back, this is the greatest loss of my life losing the love of my life but it was one sided so it feels like the biggest scam in my life, he knows my su*c*dal tendencies and he still left me at my worst and lived the best time of his life with my replacements non-bothered if I lived or died why would I care if he lived or died then? He's fucking dead to me and I wish him nothing but fucking agunish like everyday I suffered this month, 2 out of his 3 former exes cheated on him and that's exactly what he deserves because he's a cheating piece of shit just like them he never deserved my heart he deserves a whore like him like the fucking whore he's with everyday now the fucking desperate slut he chose over me he's fucking dead to me

[ppersonna]

swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary-  after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq​ for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia​ @untaemedqueen​ for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks​ and @hongism​ for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.  

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you. 

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily. 

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.  

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it. 

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water. 

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk. 

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.” 

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo. 

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?” 

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above. 

“You call Jimin a prince?” 

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband. 

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.” 

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.” 

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own. 

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.” 

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.” 

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid. 

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom. 

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed. 

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it. 

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can. 

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone. 

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway. 

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk. 

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read. 

He just matched with YOU. 

His best friend. 

His secret, lifelong crush. 

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it. 

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen. 

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other. 

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message. 

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone. 

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend. 

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone. 

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion. 

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff. 

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband. 

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line. 

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend. 

“It’s nothing!” 

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.” 

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off. 

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams. 

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback. 

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly. 

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures. 

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen. 

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more. 

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is. 

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork. 

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you. 

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause. 

“What’s up?” He asks curiously. 

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner. 

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours. 

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own. 

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to. 

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator. 

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze. 

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”  

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face. 

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light 

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest. 

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”  

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others. 

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park. 

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too. 

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth. 

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm. 

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing. 

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it. 

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face  down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck. 

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes. 

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently. 

“And I promise to never run away from you again.” 

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel. 

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself. 

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again. 

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with. 

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing. 

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss. 

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours. 

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly. 

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed. 

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?” 

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement. 

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.” 

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited. 

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle  his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs. 

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. 

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.” 

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more. 

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.” 

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable. 

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan. 

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water. 

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently. 

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue. 

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue. 

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets. 

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully. 

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.” 

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body). 

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are. 

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down. 

“Still dreaming?” 

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire. 

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes. 

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart. 

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout. 

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?” 

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug. 

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing. 

“I plan to find out everything.” 

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.” 

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss. 

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you. 

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.” 

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body. 

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.  

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands. 

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.” 

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation. 

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.” 

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off. 

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air. 

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt. 

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation. 

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion. 

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship. 

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister. 

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo 

© ppersonna - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #ficswithluv #jjk smut #bts fics #jjk fic #jungkook fic

[mammonshuman92]

Hi! Can I get brothers hcs reacting to MC having tattoos

 @assasinofkda Thank you for the ask!!​ I’m so sorry it took so long for me to do this, Life, ya know? lol It kinda turned into more than just their opinions? my bad lol Hope you enjoy!! But I’m sorry if it’s shit lmao

Warnings: implied seggs, being thirsty, swearing

Lucifer

I think he would be the most uptight about it, tbh.

Kinda a “dad” about it

“ThAt’Ll Be StUcK wItH yOu FoReVeR.”

However, I don’t think he’d judge you, or think less of you in any way. It’s your life.

He’d be more in favor of small, easily hidden tattoos, or those that have special meaning

If it’s a “cum slut” tramp stamp, you’ll definitely get a lecture after he tests that statement

I couldn’t see him ever getting one himself unless it was Luci + Dia <3

Would probably try to encourage you to not get anymore, and scowl when you inevitably do lol

Mammon

Like, he’s already putty in your hands, but when he found out about the tattoos?

Aroused “That’s cool, I guess.”

tsundere as always lol

He’d get over it quickly tho and kinda fan girl a little

His human is so badass. 

So cool. 

So sexy

Tries to convince you to get a “The Great Mammon’s Human” tattoo

shut that shit down lmaoooo

he thought he could be slick and take you on a date to get tattoos together

you picked one out for each other, the design a surprise until it was finished

he chose a chunky chibi crow with a single Grimm in it’s beak, and veeeery familiar sunglasses.

you picked “tsundere” in elegant cursive

still hasn’t fully forgiven you yes he has

Levi

Calls you a normie

But lasts .5689 seconds before gushing about how cool it is that you have tattoos and how pretty they are

16842% will explode if any of them are anime, manga or game related.

He’d for sure get a Ruri-chan half/full sleeve. I will not take criticism on this.

Being The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, you assumed he had to at least have one, right?

Nope.

Snek bby doesn’t do people, or crowds. So sitting in a chair for hours on end with someone in close proximity, trying to make small talk and such seemed like he would rather be Cerberus’ chew toy.

However, if you were to suggest going with him, he wouldn’t think twice about it.

He almost passed out twice lmaooooo

You got Henry and he got The Lord of Shadow

<3

Satan

Absolutely has at least one cat tattoo. No arguments!

Would be impressed if you also had a cat tattoo, or maybe some meaningful book quotes

whatever you have, he will think it’s beautiful

loves the idea of being able to decorate one’s skin with whatever they want, to be whoever they want

because of the whole “my brother rage birthed me” thing

absentmindedly traces the outline of it while he’s reading or when you’re laying together

you get tattoos together

beauty and the beast themed

sadkjfbhalsrhf

Asmo

The one who talked you into getting “cum slut” LMAOOOO

also tests the accuracy of said statement

Doesn’t mind tattoos at all

He has a few himself

None that can be seen in public, but deff a hip tat or lower back

nothing too big or flashy for him, just small and dainty pieces

helps you make sure they stay moisturized

the two of you may or may not have wound up at the tattoo shop after the club one friday night

no one except him will ever see it though

seeing as he’s the only one who sees your-

Beel

This bby

12/10 best boi

Always down for you no matter what

He has a tribal tattoo on his bicep, so he definitely is very interested when he learns you also have tattoos

Thinks they’re beautiful

WIll go with you to appointments for sure

Would even get one with you

You got little matching tattoos of a cheeseburger

Whatever you choose to do with your body, he will support you 100%

and eat anyone who says otherwise

Belphie

Honestly

I can’t really see him really giving a shit either way

If you have them cool

If not, also cool

Won’t judge you either way

Will gladly listen to how and why you got them

Or go with you to an appointment

** BONUS **

Diavolo

Fascinated

Bby boy is so sheltered and never really around anyone excpet the same demons he’s been around for centuries

So when he found out you had tattoos he was intrigued

would sit and listen, with big shiny puppy eyes as you told him the stories of getting said tattoos and their meanings/what they mean to you

Would suggest getting matching tattoos

Barbatos tried to reel him, advising him that something as such could have a negative effect on how his subjects and other Nobles view him.

Dia didn’t hear a word lmaoooo

All he could think about was sharing something like this with you.

You both got tiny crowns

<3

Barb was P I S S E D

straight up gave him a Luci style lecture lmfao

Barbatos

Doesn’t mind

thinks you’re lovely no matter what you do

his background in-game is still pretty mysterious but I hc that he has like one

probably tribal, kinda big, going from his bicep, across his shoulder and stopping along his spine

lord have mercy

something about him going on about his duties as a butler when there’s serious ink underneath that long sleeve button up? So proper, yet bad?

;sdhgkvjhiu

hold on

*thirsty ass creeper breathing*

we now return to your originally scheduled programming :)

I feel like he got it back in the day

like a young and dumb kinda thing, maybe even rebelling a little

hasn’t gotten anymore, and doesn’t have a desire to

doesn’t mind if you do

will go with you, or help you take care of the healing process

Solomon

I hc that nearly everything under his clothes is covered in tattoos, or what would be the pact marks of his demons, and some from sorcery shiz.

so he’s 100% cool with you being tattooed

would be down to get one with you

easily talked you into getting the Prince Lucifer and Princess Diavolo chat stickers

;ouishdfkj;ns

lmaooo

he so would

lucifer was so pissed and Diavolo was overjoyed and couldn’t stop laughing

Simeon

Angel in every sense of the word

loves you no matter what

he cant have any

body is a temple and all that

but he does love them

thinks they're beautiful

Would probably prefer quotes from literature, or those with special meaning.

flower tattoos too

Also a fan of little whimsical tattoos.

A zipper tattooed on a scar from an old surgery?

Hilarious!

although he can’t get one, you got a little halo tattoo

he teared up a little at the gesture

Luke

I was wrong

Luke is definitely more uptight about it than Lucifer loool

Gasps when he first sees it/them

“MC! What is that?!” He shrieks

“A tattoo?” 

Luke.holybrain.exe has stopped working

Probably lectures you worse than Luci

May or may not hit you with a Bible

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me headcanons #lucifer #mammon #levi #leviathan #satan #asmo #asmodeus #beel #beelzebub #belphie #belphegor #tattoos

[pinkrelish]

Thank you for all of your showstoping obito content that you put out. I’ve never been able to read long bits of writing but somthing about your stories just grabs my attention so well<3

May I ask for a crumb of obito content with a reader who is a little quiet and angsty (maybe a lil rebel babe)?

I wish this new year treats you well because you deserve it :)

a/n: this plot got away from me but i hope you still like it lmaoooo love uuuu 💕

SFW: fem!reader, office au, rivals to lovers, miscommunication trope

Words: 7k

Read: AO3

You had been working at your company for two years and things were going well. You were up for a promotion, the break room had better vending machines than your last office, and your coworkers were leagues more tolerable than the last people you worked with.. Except for one.

You were at your desk typing up a report due tomorrow at noon, eyeing the clock flickering over to a new hour, and panicking. You arrived at the office thirty minutes early to give yourself a generous headstart and still feared running out of time.

The door beeped as someone slid their badge into the lock and opened it. You waited on bated breath for his voice. Bunched your shoulders anticipating his overly friendly squeeze on your arm. Pinched your face in disgust picturing how he would walk in here all relaxed and nonchalant while you were stressed beyond belief.

Instead, Konan walked in, smiling at you. "Good luck," she whispered as she sat across from you in her cubicle. She gave you a thumbs up over her computer monitor and you returned it.

"I'll need it." You gave her a knowing look.

"Has he seriously not finished his half?"

"No, no," you said, keeping your voice low and scanning the area for your partner in question. Leaning towards her, shame hot on your neck as you bitched about him despite being the one running behind. "He finished two days ago, it's just-"

"You ladies talkin' about me?"

Of course. You should've known. He had a knack appearing at the most inopportune moments.

Obito snickered at your flustered state, amused at your little gasp as you sat up straight in your chair, wide eyes on your screen, clicking literally anything to appear busy, furthering your mortified expression when you deleted an important email on accident.

"Thought so."

You didn't need to turn around to know he was speaking to you with his dumb lopsided grin. Growing especially wicked when he curled the end of your ponytail around his finger and tugged ever so gently--just enough to piss you off--before letting it loose, and sitting at his desk. Diagonally from yours. With his annoying face perfectly in your field of vision at all times.

“I’m asking the boss for higher cubicle walls,” you mumbled to yourself, hunching so he couldn’t see you.

It never ceased to frustrate you how it seemed Obito goofed off at work all day, and yet, finished his half of your project before you. You were sure he managed to do it on purpose just to rub it in your face. Using his free time to go out of his way to aggravate you.

All you wanted was an espresso from the fancy coffee machine in the break room, but no. Not when Obito was around.

"Would you move," you grunted, stepping to the left.

"What's the magic word?" he taunted, stepping to his right. Openly laughing at you when you ducked to go the other way and he spread his arms in the doorway to block you.

You put an end to your little dance. You shoved your glasses up your nose and glared at him with all the threatening energy you could summon having roughly three hours of sleep. "If you don't let me get my coffee, I'll-"

"Coffee, hm? Like this espresso drink here?" He dropped his arms and grabbed the to-go cup from one of the round tables everyone used to eat lunch at. He held the drink out for you to take and you scoffed.

"Isn't that yours?"

"Nope."

"Poisoned then?"

"Nope."

Your upper lip sneered in disgust. "Then what's wrong with it?"

Obito considered the cup in his hand and shrugged. “Nothing. It’s two shots with soy milk and one packet of raw sugar, like you like it.”

Skeptical, you snatched it from his hand and peered into the small hole in the lid, closing one eye and swirling the liquid around. Putting it to your nose and smelling it. Inspecting it for evidence of him tampering with it, or tasting it.

Satisfied, you maintained eye contact and took a sip. “Tastes normal.”

“See? Told you.” The scars on his cheek stretched with his smile. Healed gashes of smooth skin from an accident in his youth he never elaborated on. The hand he slipped into his pocket matched; catching you staring at vulnerable parts of him. He moved past you to go back to his desk. “Did you know you get coffee at the same time everyday?” he called over his shoulder.

You sipped. Blinking at where he once stood in front of you. Mulling over his question. “Okay, stalker.”

~~~

You waited outside your boss’ office twisting your fingers into a representation of the knots in your stomach. Obito shifted his weight from foot to foot beside you, humming something, staring off into space. Ignoring you. At least, that’s how it appeared.

“Don’t worry so much,” he said, voice quiet and raspy. A hoarseness unique to him.

You sighed and shook your head. In a rare moment of sleep deprivation, you let your walls slip and confided in him. “I was up so late trying to solve that last problem. I crunched the numbers over and over again to make it work and, ugh-” You slid your eyes shut. “I don’t think I did a good job. Fuck.” Your promotion was toast.

He checked the buttons on his blazer, fixed the cuffs. Assured you, “I’m sure you did perfect. You’re you, afterall.”

“What does that mean?”

The door opened before he could answer. Your boss ushered you in to stand at his desk while he laced his fingers and had trouble discerning where he should begin. You may not be an expert in reading body language, but his disappointment was evident, making your failure palpable.

“Well,” your boss drawled. “I appreciate aspects of your proposition, but for having my two best employees working on a project together, I gotta say, having an entire spreadsheet formatted like this, and not even having the cells calculated correctly is not how I envisioned this going. This client was very important and now I’ll have to..” He continued to point out flaws and how to fix them. Your mistakes. Only yours. Unknowingly complimenting Obito’s half of the work and crushing your dreams of a promotion.

Your blood ran cold. Your heart seized, dropped to your stomach, and plummeted to the floor. Preparing yourself to take the fall and admit all the problems with the project were yours.

“Who did these parts of the project?” your boss scoffed, not believing either of you could’ve messed up this badly.

You drew in a breath.

“I did, sir.”

You whipped your head at Obito. Mouth hung open.

“I’m the one who messed up the spreadsheet. I’ll be sure to do better next time.”

“Make sure it doesn’t happen again, Mr. Uchiha. You two are dismissed. I expected much more from you two. And you,” he addressed you, “You’ll hear from me by the end of the month regarding your promotion.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Obito held the door open for you and closed it behind him. He followed you down the narrow hall until you whirled around on him, stopping him mid-step from running into you.

“Why did you do that?” you whispered harsher than you meant to.

“I hate wearing these,” he said, unbuttoning his blazer and shrugging it off. Folding it over his arm. Lifting his half-lidded eyes to meet yours, smothering any emotion from his face except for the subtle raise of his brows. “Hm?”

“Why did you..?” Stand up for me? Volunteer to take the brunt of your boss’ harsh criticisms knowing you didn’t deserve them?

“Because I know this wasn’t the norm. You let the stress get to you, with your neck on the line like that.” His gaze roamed your face. Slow and precise, as if absorbing your features to memorize them. “Maybe you can make it up to me sometime.”

You knew at that moment you must’ve been sick in head, because you genuinely considered kissing the ground he walked on. “Thank you, Obito.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugged. It was nothing to him. And that was all the more infuriating.

~~~

The next day you made yourself as small as possible. Curling over your keyboard, pretending to squint at the screen like you were in the middle of something, drumming up excuses to leave the room when Obito glanced at you from over his cubicle wall.

Itching to get away from his presence, you meandered in the break room, reading over every single candybar in the vending machine as if you had any interest in them besides your favorite.

“So,” Kakashi started and you yelped, grabbing your chest and uttering a few choice words at him. “Sorry,” he sang, cheesing under his face mask. “I heard what Obito did for you–”

“He told you?”

“Eh, he tells me everything. We’re friends.”

Justifiably embarrassed at your own incompetence being shared around the office, you narrowed your eyes at Kakashi. “You were saying?”

He turned his attention towards the ceiling in search of his reason for ambushing you. “Ah, right, I remember..” he trailed off again and you were starting to lose your patience. Kakashi doubled over and placed his elbow on the counter beside the long-forgotten coffee pot, planting his cheek in his palm while facing you, trying hard to convey his innocence before you smacked him. “You know, both you and Obito have been single since you started working here. Have you thought about taking him out to dinner to thank him?”

“My God, I’m quitting and moving across the damn country to get away from you two.” You hightailed it back to your desk, which did not prove to be a better alternative than being stuck in the break room with Kakashi hounding you about your love life.

Obito was at his desk answering a phone call. Leaned back in his chair. Legs straight out, crossed at the ankle. Arm thrown across his messy back hair to block the fluorescent lights from his charcoal gray eyes, closing as he laughed at a joke the person on the other end of the line told. His tie divided the length of his chest; today it was navy blue with a repeating pattern of orange squares as big as your pinky nail. He erupted in another laugh, straining the buttons of his white shirt across his chest, pulling at the creases where it was tucked into his slacks..

Your eyes snapped back to his face. His smile was easy. Care-free. And directed at you.

The corners of his mouth carved themselves wry. His teeth gleamed.

He winked at you. Answered the client’s question with poise while your knees buckled. Continued to best you when you lost your nerve.

You sank to your chair, staring holes into your screen, listening to him win over the wealthiest client the company has contact with, solidifying another fortuitous deal all due to his charm.

~~~

Konan sat next to you at the round table. She pried the lid off her salad and mixed in the dressing, shoveling it around with her fork before digging in and talking to you with her mouth full. “How’d your last Tindr date go?”

You answered around the sandwich in your mouth. “Awful. I knew in the first ten seconds it was a wash. He was so fucking boring and only talked about himself.”

“You’re so picky. What’re you looking for in a guy anyway?”

“At this point I’d settle for anyone who’s nice and doesn’t stare at my chest the entire time.”

“Yeah, your boobs aren’t even that impressive.”

“Shut up,” you seethed.

Outside the break room, Obito pushed himself off the wall and returned to his desk.

~~~

Days later, you arrived–at most–two minutes late. And yet, there he was. At your desk. Messing with your things.

“Obito,” you hissed, shaking the backrest of your chair, glaring at the man using your computer instead of his. “Sit at your own desk, you–”

Obito cut you off with a smile you loathed. The one he knew softened you around the edges while simultaneously ruffling your feathers. “I was just finishing up here.” He stabbed a few keys and smacked the enter button, grinning at you.

“Whatever, idiot. Out. Go. Leave.” You shooed him and slung your purse over the back of your chair. He swiped your stack of pastel pink sticky notes and slipped them into his pocket. You didn’t have the emotional capacity to argue with him more.

“Your perfume is nice,” he said. You shot him a look. “It’s different, isn’t it?”

It was, but you weren’t about to entertain the idea of him noticing details about you like that.

“Bye,” you stated. You wiggled around him and sat in your own chair, adjusting the height and pulling your keyboard to you, reaching for the mouse and opening a document while he watched you. Unnervingly close. “Can I help you?”

You could feel his stare, see the way his head tilted and his face went lax as he mulled something over. “No, I guess not.” He walked around the cubicles and sat at his desk, eyes moving back and forth like he was reading something on his screen, but they held a certain saddened gloss over them.

Shaking off the weird twinge of empathy throbbing in your chest, you glanced around your desk to see what else his little mischievous hands disorganized and exhaled, exhausted. It was just like him to leave trash in his wake. You picked up your waste paper basket and began sweeping in an excess amount of candy wrappers and balled bits of paper, when a certain foiled paper from a stick of gum caught your eye–folded suspiciously in the shape of a heart.

Huffing, you threw it away, wondering how one man produced so much garbage in such a short span of time.

Reaching for the last item that was not yours on your desk, you realized one of the candy bar wrappers wasn’t empty. “Hey, Obito, is this yours?” You waved it at him over the cubicle wall. However, he had his back turned to you. Nodding at something Kakashi said while dialing a phone number and holding the receiver to his ear.

Quietly, you gave up trying to get his attention and dropped your hand. Languishing it in your lap, turning the candy bar over and over in thought, debating the kind gesture. If he even left it on purpose. He could’ve forgotten to retrieve it amidst all his mess.

But it was your favorite candy bar, and you hated the spark of delight warming your body when you considered the idea of him leaving it there on purpose.

~~~

Subtle, you were not.

This was your third time in the break room. Standing up every time Obito did and rushing there before him, only to end up there alone because he was getting up to socialize or go to the restroom.

So, here you were, making your usual afternoon coffee. By yourself. Sulking.

Until he came in.

Obito wandered in to toss a water bottle in the recycling and leave. Keeping his head down. Avoiding eye contact, his gaze steady on the floor, hiking his leather satchel higher on his shoulder.

You stopped him before he left the doorway, “Hey, do you want a coffee?” Your voice was too airy, too high pitched to sound natural; making your good deed obvious.

“I’m, uh,” he stalled, running a hand through his hair. “I was about to go meet a client for a late lunch.”

“O-Oh.” An awkward silence hung between you. One where you squirmed, rocking on your feet, brain working in overdrive and not producing a solution to get you out of this cringe-inducing moment that will surely haunt you every night for the rest of your life. One where he stared at you, eyes wide. Hopeful.

“But I can drink it on the way there,” he offered.

You were almost certain it wasn’t the first time you smiled at him, but judging by his reaction, it was a rarity when aimed at him.

Removing your lukewarm cup of coffee from under the spout, you replaced it and pressed buttons on the machine. His footsteps echoed in the small room. Watching the black coffee drip into the cup and you shuffle to the side, getting his creamer out from the fridge and lining up four packets of white sugar. The machine beeped twice. You took the cup and mixed in the creamer until the drink was blonde and dumped in the packets, stirring and placing a cardboard sleeve and lid on it.

“Here,” you said, holding out for him to take, pointedly looking at the coffee cup and not a smidge higher. Not wanting to know if he was smirking at you with snark on his tongue, or smiling at you with genuine appreciation for knowing how he liked his coffee.

“Thanks.” His fingers grazed yours. His rough fingertips over your knuckles; calluses from working out brushing your soft skin. Touching you despite you handling the drink in a way to avoid any clumsy touching in the trade off from your hands to his.

Obito checked his watch. “I’ve gotta get going.”

For a man who had somewhere to be, he wasn’t in a hurry. You dared meet his eyes, and had to remind yourself to breathe. He wasn’t smiling, nor was he smirking. Even better, he regarded you with a sweet glint in his stare, and a tender lift of the scarred side of his mouth.

“You should get going,” you reminded him after he didn’t move.

“Yeah.” He curled the coffee to his chest, nodded at you. “Bye.” He said it so gently. Quiet. Not obnoxious like he usually would, with an additional pinch on your forearm or grandiose wave to embarrass you.

“Bye.”

You counted a full minute before you gained the confidence to leave the breakroom, expecting your coworkers to turn their gossipy, sly grins at you, but you were met with–well–nothing. The cubicles were empty. You remembered overhearing Gai talk about clocking out early, and Kakashi was out sick, but you figured someone would’ve been out here to tease you about how long you were in there alone with Obito.

Maybe today was your lucky day.

You sat at your desk. Slouched at your desk. Slumped at your desk. Slammed your forehead on your desk.

“This is so boring.” As you said this, your eyes were trained on the space over the cubicle wall diagonal from yours.

You turned desperate for entertainment.

Finding an errant pen in your mug of writing utensils, you swore it belonged to Konan and found yourself idling in front of her desk in the blink of an eye. You returned the pen to her and stood there. Perhaps leaning over to sneak a peek at Obito’s desk. You’d never seen it before since he was against the wall and you never had an excuse to walk on this side of the cubicles.

Two seconds; that’s how long your morals lasted. You slid his chair out and sank into it, scooting forward to rest your arms across his desk. Dragging your shoes on the carpet, feet not touching the ground since he was much taller than you. For a while you just sat there with the low hum of the air conditioner keeping you company.

His desk was relatively tidy and, impressively enough, lacked crumbs. The fabric covered walls were decorated, unlike yours. He had a little plant in the corner. His pen cup was a mug with a sports team logo on it.

It was like being in a different world by changing your seat. It almost felt like you were.. closer to him. Sitting where he sat. Enveloped by the scent of his cologne. The artificial warmth of his chair cradling you like a hug. Hovering your fingers over his keyboard, worn and missing letters on the ones he used most often. His chair. His things. His decorations.

On closer investigation the walls of his cubicle were lined in photos. Many of them were of him and Kakashi, or group photos of all of you at work events. Directly to your left was one in particular you remembered. Your boss made you and your new coworkers gather round to commiserate the office’s opening; you were in the center, a sour expression on your face because Obito was using you as a place to rest his arm, leaning on you and smiling wide for the camera.

The photo to the side of his monitor was of you and Konan sitting on a blanket in the grass at an employee picnic. She was whispering something in your ear and pointing at the camera. You were smiling; not the type of thousand-watt smile worthy of being on display in someone’s cubicle, but here it was nonetheless. The only odd thing about it was that Obito was pictured in the background on his own blanket. Someone else had taken the picture and now he owned it.

You scanned the rest of the photos. There was a common theme.

You.

The ones of him and Kakashi were outnumbered. The ones featuring other coworkers were conveniently overlapping, covering their faces, but not yours.

“A coincidence. He just ran out of room..”

Your hypothesis fell flat when your gaze drifted beyond the cubicle walls to where you would normally be sitting, imagining yourself there, ignoring him. Below the wall was another photo of you. Just you, from almost the same angle. Glaring at him over the cubicle wall.

“Fuck,” you muttered, pushing yourself away from his desk, face hot with–every emotion.

As you stood, you noticed your stack of pastel pink sticky notes and went to snatch them from his desk. But stopped. Trembling fingers hovered over them.

The top note was written on.

It was Konan’s name. Under it, her personal number. Under that, a heart.

It was her number, you didn’t need to check. It wasn’t her handwriting, it was his. His heart he drew under her name and her phone number.

You checked the photos lining his walls again. While there were more of you, there were plenty of her, too. You looked around the empty office.

Today was not your lucky day.

They were on a secret date.

~~~

You didn’t know why you cared so much. You really shouldn’t have. You took too long, and now he rejected you. Moved on.

Still, the way they entered through the door together, snickering. Smiling openly like you wished you could. Chests tittering in laughs. Holding their stomachs, and touching each other's arms. Sharing a knowing glance and smothering their blissful grins behind their hands as they sat across from you; you had never felt more alone, unwanted, and excluded.

~~~

The next day was no better.

Konan peeked over her monitor. “Did you get it?” Across the cubical wall, Obito listened intently.

“No, I didn’t,” you said, fatigued from feeling anything anymore. “I didn’t get the promotion.”

~~~

Word traveled fast. You’d been picking at your lunch in the breakroom for mere minutes when a fleet of busy bodies filed in and Konan massaged the tense muscles lining your spine while Genma patted your hand–though, he paled and jerked it away when he made eye contact with the hardened stare of someone above you.

“We should go out for drinks tonight,” Konan cooed in your ear. “I know, I know, not to celebrate, but hey, being drunk’ll make it easier to forget.”

You didn’t need to look up to know Obito was there. His cologne was an easy tell, along with the familiar shuffle of his feet. An unfortunate aspect you regretted growing accustomed to in effort to detect when he was sneaking up behind you to scare you. You surrendered, “Sure. Yeah.”

“Awesome! We’ll go to the usual bar down the street.”

In the reflection of the microwave you saw his distorted face smile at her, and her at him.

It was so easy for them.

~~~

Outside the office building, you waited on the sidewalk with the rest of your coworkers until the last few made it out of the elevator and you started towards the bar together. However, one by one, they conjured excuses to veer off in other directions. Genma had an errand to run, Asuma swore he left his stove on, Shizune had to make soup for orphaned kids or something–she expelled her spiel so quickly, it was all gibberish. Ino dragged Sai by his arm after communicating with him through rapid blinks and death glares; “Remember we had that thing to do tonight?” Ino asked, to which Sai replied, “Huh? What thing?” Konan cleared her throat aggressively. “Oh! That thing!”

That left you, Obito, and Konan walking towards the bar.

Konan was in the lead, talking enough for the three of you. Obito hung around your side, but you weren’t paying attention to what she was saying, far too preoccupied keeping your unease at bay. Trying to not wring the uncomfortable tension from your neck. Guarding your face from spilling your secrets as you passed by windows and had your heart broken pane by pane. Watching him laugh, watching him make her laugh.

“Oh, shit.” Konan patted down her jacket and forced an apologetic smile to the doorman before turning to you and Obito. “Forgot my wallet at the office. I’ll just head back and get it!” She put her Track and Field scholarship to good use; the woman was half a block away by the end of her sentence.

“Uh, well. Should we wait for her?” You looked to Obito for further guidance, but he was showing his ID to the doorman, so you did the same.

Once inside the bar you were immediately bombarded by yelling, accosted by bodies knocking you around as people cheered at TV screens plastered to every surface. A man with a large build screamed something incoherent at the slow motion replay. He swung his arms wildly, gesticulating his anger in ways that endangered you and your ability to see.

“Gah!” You grappled with your glasses before they were flung off your face. Obito noticed your size-related predicament and placed his firm hand on the small of your back, escorting you to the bar; a swift apology on his lips you couldn’t hear.

Obito wedged himself between two people and got the bartender’s attention. He ordered, and seeing how you had difficulty being heard above the ruckus, he rocked you into his body, pushing you in front of him. His palm, fingers spread across your skin. Strong. Safe.

“I’ll have the same as him,” you shouted to the bartender.

While she fixed your mystery drink, Obito rattled you. “Look! Those people over there are leaving. Grab their booth before someone else does.” He was everywhere. His lips tickled the shell of your ear. His breath coasted goosebumps down your neck. His hand moved from your lower back, and you missed having it there, but it was replaced by his stomach, his chest slotting into the lonely places curved to fit him–it was heaven, it was hell.

Praising the break away from him, you rushed to the table and scooted along the round booth seat to the middle position, leaving him room to sit on either side of you without touching.

Of course, he soon came over with your pint of beer and sat next to you. As close as possible. Laying his arm across the back of the seat, eyes on the screen. Casual, nonchalant; like this was a recurrence. A date night.

With that thought, reality reminded you that this was very much not a date.

“Should we order for Konan?”

“Nah,” he said, lifting his pint with a single hand to his lips and taking a sip. Releasing a pleasurable “ah” after swallowing. Bicep bulging under the sleeve of his work shirt. Adam’s apple plunging and climbing. Stippled facial hair highlighted under your studious gaze. Plummeting your rational senses and spiking your heart rate.

You grasped your pint with two hands and leaned into the cushion–hyper aware of his arm relaxing across the back of the booth. Particularly, the warm crook of his elbow at your nape.

He made it worse. He crossed his legs. In your periphery you could see much. Too much. A peek of his ankle. The taut fabric of his slacks stretched across his thighs. The protrusion of his wallet. More, if you were willing to ogle like a degenerate.

He wrung his mouth at something on the TV. Licked his lips.

Cuddled together in a booth like a couple; you could see, hear, feel all of him.

Getting drunk was certainly the only way you’d get through this night.

Obito laughed at you drinking like a fish far out of her water. “Need another one?” You shuddered at the bitterness blanketing your tongue and nodded. He laughed at you again and wove through the crowd to get you a second hoppy beer. “Sorry it’s so busy today. I usually watch the game at home and forgot it’d be this crazy.”

Squinting at the TV, you did your best to ignore his arm asserting itself around the shelf of your shoulders, touching you more than it was previously, and read the score on the bottom of the screen. “Basketball?”

“Mhm,” he hummed a bit too close to your ear considering this corner of the sports bar was rather chill and free of overzealous fans. “Do you watch it, or not really into it?” His intensity burned your cheeks; discerning any emotion crossing your face.

You shrugged and turned to face him. And what a mistake that was.

His proximity was imminent. You witnessed each micro movement of his dilated pupils obsessing over the features of your face. Languishing on your parted lips and snapping back to your half-lidded eyes.

“No, I’ve never really been into sports,” you whispered as a goal was scored and hushed devastation rippled through the men glued to the screens.

Obito’s fingers grazed your shoulder. “If you’re bored, we can do something else. Whatever you want.”

The cold pint glass numbed your aching fingers. His insistence on treating you as anything other than a nuisance in his life chipped at the ice encompassing your heart. Cracking the walls you put up when it came to him; crumbling them into the gut wrenching torment of falling for someone who was taken.

But how sweet was the honeyed voice thrumming in your ear provoking you to make bad decisions. “I’ll watch the game with you.” And then the reverberating sound of your conscience smacking you across the face. “Konan’s been gone for a while. Do you think something happened? Should I text her?”

You reached for your purse and he stopped you. His hand around your wrist, his arm’s presence solidly around your shoulders, no longer shy in his affections. “She’ll be fine,” he said, stern, terse. “This night is about you. Stop worrying so much and enjoy yourself.” Truly asking the world of you, he leaned in to the point of his hair brushing your temple, and pleaded, “Trust me.”

The earnestness in his rasp. The honesty in his eyes.

Maybe you were wrong about him and Konan. Somehow. If you dismissed the evidence you procured indicating otherwise.

Either way, he let go of your wrist, but his arm remained. His fingers remained. Caressing your upper arm, tucking themselves against your side. Squeezing new life into your sorry self. Thumb stroking over your shoulder, and you loved it as much as you hated yourself for seeking comfort in the one person who drove you crazy: your rival. Stirring emotions you buried long ago when he first made you a target of his teasing.

“Okay,” you agreed. He smiled his imperfectly perfect smile. You forced your attention to the basketball game before you sank deeper in analyzing his face, especially the way his scars carved rivers through his stubble.

“Is there anything you want to talk about?” Obito asked after a few minutes of silence purveyed between you. Interrupted by cheers or groans in accordance to which team scored points.

“Mmm, not really. You?”

Obito inhaled deep. Face blank, watching the TV. “Don’t wanna bore you by talking about myself-”

“Whoa! Did you see that?” You whipped around, confused as to why Obito seemed less than thrilled. “I don’t know much about basketball, but he made that shot from half-court. That’s impressive, right?”

He snorted. “I’m rooting for the other team.”

“Oh. Whoops.” Now, you realized the other team’s logo was the same as the one on the mug he kept at his desk.

“You can root for whoever you want,” he said, twisting his lips in yet another smile angled in your direction. “I’m just relieved you’re having fun.”

“We can make it funner.”

“Oh?”

“Let’s make a deal.” You smirked and waggled your eyebrows–feeling silly as the alcohol settled in. “If my team wins, we do whatever I want. If your team wins, we do whatever you want.”

Taking his time to contemplate your offer, he read the score, read how much time was left in the game, and narrowed his eyes at you. “My team is down 22 points and there’s less than two minutes left in the fourth quarter.”

“Sounds like you're scared, Uchiha.”

“Never. It’s a deal.”

Finally. Today was your lucky day.

It took ten minutes for the clock to hit zero; plowing through referee calls, whistles, and timeouts, but at last, your team won. Your team won, and that meant spending more time with Obito.

“Where’re you dragging me to now?” he asked, paying for your drinks.

“I have something in mind,” you teased.

~~~

“What in the actual fuck is this?” Obito yelled over the sounds assaulting him.

“Music!” you yelled back, dragging him towards the sea of bodies in the warehouse style building.

He winced; at you, the many lanky men with mohawks, the studded leather jackets seconds from puncturing him, and at the blown amps on stage. “This isn’t music. This is noise.”

“Exactly,” you giggled. His scowl was lit in the flashing lights. “It’s called noise rock.” For his benefit, you lead him towards the back wall, putting distance between you and the people thrashing in the middle. “My favorite band is on stage.”

You watched him openly and ardently for his response. Letting him see the twinkle in your eye, batting your lashes at his surprise. Your dimple upon breaking into a hint of a smile, finding it a bit too amusing–and adorable–to see him out of his element, dressed in office attire at a punk show. Sharing a part of yourself no one else at the office knew. Parting your lips and urging him to read between the lines: the deal was just a way to trick him into spending more time with you.

“It’s..” He fought for words. “Loud.”

“Yep! Well, I’m gonna go mosh.” You made it one step towards the mob before you were yanked backwards as if by a tether and stumbled into his arms.

“Absolutely not,” he said, letting go of your blouse and securing his strong grip on your hip. “No way am I about to let you go in there. What if your glasses get knocked off? What if you get hurt?”

You were flabbergasted. Words escaped you. You did not possess the lexicon to describe the burning desire in your core when he clutched you to his chest and reprimanded you. Pressed tight against his body, his nose to your hair, and protective words curling your toes.

“O-Okay,” you exhaled. “We can stay back here.”

He fell for your tricks again.

~~~

For long minutes, Obito held you. After a close incident with a rogue teenager being ejected from the crowd and running into you, he laced his arms around your middle and kept you safe within the confines of his person. You were both leaning against the wall, but you relied on him to support you, and he held no objections.

During a speech about anti-fascism by the lead singer, he ducked his head to speak to you, and became side tracked. For once, you were the one who caught him off guard. Your fingers found their way to his chin. You ran your thumb over his stubble, entranced by the short hairs prickling your skin.

“You smell good,” you said, finding it easier and easier to smile. “I’ve always liked your cologne.”

Obito wrested his chin from your affections and closed his eyes, eyebrows pinched. “Are you drunk?”

“Tipsy, I guess.”

“Mm.” He almost seemed reluctant, debating something with himself, as he claimed your temple as his. A timid brush of his lips. Settling for a minuscule display of everything he suppressed.

In turn, you rested your weary head on his clavicle. Turning your face to tuck yourself in the column of his neck. Swooning over him overtly. Brimming with liquid confidence in his comforting arms.

~~~

Obito didn’t know how many more songs he listened to–if one could discern when one began and another ended–but he swayed with you, regardless. Entertaining you with cheesy grins and heartfelt strokes on your waist.

Eventually, you both enjoyed yourselves too much. Growing overstimulated under the flashing lights and blaring music. You made it to the fresh air before anybody else did and walked the empty streets in the direction of your apartments downtown. His arm was loose around your waist, but his fingers dug in when you hesitated at an intersection.

“Don’t you live that way?” you asked, pointing across the street.

“It’s late, I’m walking you home.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Alright.”

~~~

“This is me,” you stated needlessly, alluding to the metal placard hanging on your door with your apartment’s number. Just standing there, staring up at him like you were for the past few seconds where he also stood there, hands in his pockets, staring at you, slouching. His face held little emotion. Not in a bored way, but in a way that protected him from showing too much. Forcing you to fill in the space with your emotions first.

You rocked yourself from foot to foot, projecting what you hoped was girlish innocence. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“I did. Did you?”

“I did.”

His eyes became increasingly desperate. Flicking his gaze back and forth into your own. Glancing at your lips. Communicating something you didn’t parse. Pleading you to do something you didn’t understand. “Are you still drunk?”

“I was never drunk, just a little tipsy.” He shot you a look. “But the fresh air helped sober me up,” you finished meekly. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call Konan to check in on her and then go to bed, I promise.”

Obito nodded, somewhat. It was a very slow bounce, petering out after a few seconds.

Silence, a distinct and excruciating silence, hung between the heat of your bodies teeming with energy in the quiet hall of your apartment building. A silence encapsulating two years worth of intentions and motives.

“Fuck it.”

He sprang.

He cupped your jaw, hooked his arm around your waist, and kissed you deeply. More intense than he meant to, but he couldn’t help it. Not when your hands climbed his chest and tangled themselves in tufts of his hair. He surrendered the self-imposed restraint he honed for years sitting across from you. The relief was all he ever hoped it to be. Your enthusiasm was as validating as he hoped it to be. Your moan into his mouth was as damning as he hoped it to be.

Tingles of satisfaction enticed your bodies to become one. Your knees knocked his, stepping into his embrace past the point of acceptable. Wanting to be absorbed by him. Craving two years worth of passion he held on reserve.

His every inhale filled the collapse of your exhale. His thumb stroked your cheek like it was wiping away tears, but all it revealed was your smile. A smile for him. Just him. You ran your knuckles along the scars on his throat. Feeling his erratic heartbeat elevating further.

He backed off. Doubt blooming in his head. Checking your face for signs of regret, of not wanting this, of only trying to humor him before sending him away with a letter from HR on his heels.

If he was looking for answers, you answered them in the most pleasing way.

You grabbed his tie and reeled him for another kiss. Crazed, fevered. Escalating when he slid his tongue across your lips and you happily obliged his hunger; hands exploring the clothed curves of the other. Smitten over the silliest details, like the way he flexed his muscles wherever your hands landed in order to impress you, and how he thought he was smooth letting his hand drift lower and lower down the arch of your back until it wasn’t on your back anymore. So irrevocably charmed by his ability to caress all common sense from you.

Dizzy, you broke apart for air and gasped a small, “Fuck.”

“Mhm,” he moaned, taking you for a short kiss between breaths.

“Fuck,” you said again in lieu of anything intelligent.

Obito pulled away, calming the steady rise of his shoulders, cooling the flush across his cheeks. Putting distance between you–but not until he laid his gentle lips on your temple, kissing you proper this time.

You sank to your heels and blinked the haze from your eyes. Searching his for what to do next.

“I had an amazing time with you tonight,” he said. “I should get going before it gets too late.”

He posed to walk away.

And you let him.

You didn’t speak up. You didn’t stop him.

At least, not until he was halfway down the hall and you woke up from your lustful stupor. Like hell you were about to let Konan have him.

“Wait!” You slapped your hand over your mouth, not realizing how loud you were until it echoed. “It’s already too late, I mean–” You groaned. “It’s really late out. I don’t want you walking home alone. You can come inside. Stay with me.”

It was an awfully worded offer, but he turned and smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

#obito #obito uchiha #naruto #obito x reader #uchiha obito #obito uchiha x reader #obito x y/n #obito uchiha x y/n #reader insert #akatsuki #x reader #office au #rivals to lovers

[imjusttpeachy]

bumpy roads & broken promises. (c.h.)

EDIT: Lmaoooo I did not expect this to actually get notes, thanks guys! I already made it onto someone’s fic recs-- I feel special. Actually might end up writing more if this gets more attention. :^)

I wrote this as a vent/comfort fic for myself but figured others might like it. Corpse has been my new safety youtuber ever since the old nosleep reader--deep voice/no face gamer went to shit so... yeah. 

Heavily inspired by @mmonamona ‘s fic “Petty Fights and Lonely Nights” just more angst. 

playlist

feng suave - sink into the floor

current joys - a different age

feng suave - venus flytrap

rei ami - do it right

summary: Corpse gets frustrated with work and snaps at the reader when she tries to ask what’s wrong, triggering a bad memory from a past relationship. 

word count: 2, 932

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns used, coarse language, shouting, panic attacks, reference to past relationship trauma (no retelling, nothing detailed)

(angst, hurt/comfort, crying! lots of it)

>>>

“God would you just fuck off already?!”

Frozen. Your body tensed up as the deep growl echoed through the cramped dark room.

You had been staying at your boyfriend’s apartment for about a week while you were on break from college. Flying out from the UK to California so you could spend as much time as you could with him before ultimately having to return to 5am facetimes while drowning in papers and essays.

Even before you’d booked the tickets, Corpse was already apologizing for everything under the sun. The size of his apartment and its cleanliness, the fact that he couldn’t do much more than order take out for you, his irregular sleeping patterns.. the list could go on and on. And while you assured him every time that you didn’t care, that you were coming to see him— not his apartment, not home cooked meals, and definitely not to scrutinize him for things he couldn’t control due to his mental health. But he wouldn’t buy it.

Not one bit.

He’d offer you a weary half-smile, pulling you into his chest or ruffling your hair before placing a soft kiss on your temple and changing the subject. You didn’t press any further knowing how often he was at war with his own mind and couldn’t help but think the worse of every situation.

As the days carried on, you’d spent most of your time tangled up in each other. Whether it be a movie, or playing some co-op games, or even just laying in his bed with him, you could barely stand to spend any time apart. But, of course, you were adults with responsibilities that would tear you from one another eventually. While you did miss his presence every second he wasn’t around, you couldn’t help but try to make his life even better for when he got back and for when you’d eventually have to leave him once again. Now, a week into your stay, his apartment was a good amount tidier than how it’d been when you arrived. The cupboards and fridge were stocked with groceries that would hopefully last for some time after you left, on top of the home made meals you’d make together or for him everyday. New picture frames were hung up on the wall of the two of you that you’d gifted to him when you arrived; it actually started to feel like home. Well, as much as it could without those familiar strong arms wrapped around you every second of the day.

Unfortunately, this evening was one of those times. Corpse had already been locked up in his office for a few hours now, the sounds of button mashing and frustrated exclamations making its way through the thin walls every so often bringing an amused smile to your face. He’d woken up a bit anxious already knowing he’d have to both leave you alone and put up a brave front for the stream that was planned that evening. You didn’t push him or try to talk about it, knowing that it would just make it worse; so you two had spent the day as it normally would (though he always looked and felt on edge) until he was forced to retreat back into that dreaded workspace.

You occupied yourself on your phone and laptop for a while, checking up on friends, reviewing anything you’d need for the upcoming semester, just scrolling through your socials— y’know, the works. But by the time you’d gotten bored with your scrolling, you’d notice it was a perfect time to start dinner that you’d hopefully be able to eat together with Corpse. You’d gotten to work right away, doing your best to be as quiet as you could to not disturb his work as the different aromas began to spread through the small kitchen in his apartment. Finishing up the dishes after the meal was all cooked, you dished up two servings and set them on the coffee table in front of the couch before you went to retrieve your other half.

Turning the knob of his office door slowly, you peered into the dark room; only the silhouette of the floppy mop of hair you adored so much was able to be seen in the dim light of his computer monitors. Taking a hard look at his right-most monitor you notice an editing software pulled up instead of the usual live chat he had on while streaming, so without any worry of interrupting you opened the door and stepped into the room. It was a cozy room for sure, and it always seemed to smell just like him— which of course is a given but with how much time he spent in this room, it was even more so present. Walking up slowly to his right side so you wouldn’t startle him with just your voice you watched his gaze flick to your form before steadying itself back in the monitor. Furrowing your brows at his strange behaviour but not letting it get to you, you opened your mouth to speak.

“I made dinner!” You smiled down at him, taking a few steps back toward the door so he would be able to get out of his gaming chair without you in his space. However, the hunched form of your focused boyfriend didn’t move an inch. Your heart sunk a little at his attitude but decided to just try again.

“Corpse, baby, dinners ready.”

“I’m not hungry.” The short statement left his mouth in a low grumble, if you hadn’t spent all this time with him studying his voice and begging him to speak more to you, you probably wouldn’t have been able make it out at all. You huffed out a sigh, this was new for him, you really hadn’t seen him as anything other than the cuddly baby you’d grown to know and love. But, you thought to yourself, love would come with days like this and it was bound to happen eventually. Trying your best to not get frustrated or angry with his snappy attitude, you kept your voice light and cheery as you tried again to coax him out to eat.

“Corpse you’ve barely eaten today I-“

“I said I’m not hungry.” Startling at the angry tone you’d never heard from him before, you could feel yourself start to get choked up. Pulling your hands up to hug your arms, trying to sooth yourself, you could feel yourself starting to slowly freeze up. Goosebumps ran over your skin, a chill snaking  it’s way up your spine as you gulped, trying your best to muster up the bravery to speak again. You didn’t know what had gotten into him, he knew how the tone affected you— he was usually even the one to comfort you after an episode triggering something like this. As your mouth began to run dry, you took a deep breath deciding that he would definitely come to his senses in the next moments, you opened your mouth to speak again.

“Is everything alri-“

“I’m FINE! I’m not a FUCKING CHILD I don’t need you constantly checking up on me! God would you just fuck off already!”

You didn’t even notice the tears dripping off your cheeks until they splashed against the bare skin of your hand. Slipping into the defense mode you knew so well, your body switched onto autopilot as you began to backpedal out of the room, almost tripping a few times as you sputtered out a choked “okay, I’m sorry,” before closing his door once again and stumbling messily down the hallway to his room. Your mind was moving a thousand miles a minute yet was completely blank at the same time, and before you knew it you were tucked away inside the dark closet in his room.

This was the routine, this is where you’d be safe.

Trying to slow your erratic breathing you hugged your knees even closer to your chest, praying that in some way it would ease your shaking body. But inevitably, you felt the sobs that you’d kept trapped in your throat since you’d left break through. Your chest heaved with the breaths you took to keep your sobs as silent as possible. You thought you had trained yourself well enough for this, you’d done this a million times before— but in the back of your mind you knew that this time it was different. Shrinking into the corner of the closet, the only thing on your mind was all the broken promises he’d sworn to keep.

>>>

Corpse sighed, his body weighing him down in his chair heavily, head aching with all the work he’d been doing that evening. Pulling his attention back, he stretched his arms as his sore eyes glanced over at the clock in the corner of his screen. 11:34pm. Fuck. That much time had passed already? Raking a hand through his hair he yawned sleepily, he knew he should probably spend more time working before calling it a night but all he wanted to do was curl up in bed with you-

Shit.

Finally snapping out of the heavy trance he’d set himself in every time he sat down to edit, he thought back to the last time he had seen you— calling him for dinner where he snapped at you to leave him alone… almost 3 hours ago. The memories of the past moment flooded into his head and seconds later he was scrambling out of his chair and out into the hallway. It was dead silent, Corpse felt like his heart was practically breaking his ribs with how hard it was pounding in his chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gripping at the right side of his shirt he rushed into the living room, rubbing frantically at his eyes as they darted around the room quickly looking for any sign of you.

“(Y/N), baby?” He rasped out, voice caught in his throat, walking through the living room and spotting the now cold meals she’d prepared waiting uneaten on the coffee table. His heart sunk as he hurried to the kitchen only to see the rest of the meal out on the counter, not doing anything to ease his mind. He called your name again and again; rushing back into the living room his eyes darted to the front door, a tiny bit of relief pricking his system as he saw the door was still locked and latched, as well as seeing your shoes and jacket by the door. Rushing back into the hallway he peeked into the bathroom, flicking on the light switch and with no sign of you, continued down the hallway to his room.

“(Y/N), please baby.” Flicking on the light his eyes scanned the room not catching a single sight of you-- when he heard it. Slowing his breathing down as much as he could in his panicked state he focused in his hearing on the small heaves of air coming from the closet. Stomach dropping, Corpse collapsed onto his knees, legs giving way from underneath him when he realized where you were and what was happening. Crawling his way toward the closet door he stopped right outside of it, he heard your breath hitch and knew you were holding it out of practiced instinct which made him want to vomit. But it wasn’t about him right now, so with a deep breath he finally managed to whisper out.

>>>

“Princess, I’m gonna open the door okay?”

Finally releasing the breath you had been holding, your lungs heaved for air as light flooded into the dark closet. Peeking an eye out from where it was buried in your knees, you blearily made out your boyfriend’s blurry figure kneeling outside the closet. With your body feeling like it was completely out of your control, sobs once again began to rack your huddled form as you shrunk away from him as far as you could into the corner of the closet.

“I’m gonna come in and sit with you okay, I won’t touch you unless you say I can alright?” You could hear some shuffling before hearing the door creak shut again engulfing the both of you in almost complete darkness, save for the few streams of yellow light coming from the cracks of the door. Corpse stared forward in complete silence, long legs bent uncomfortably and body hunched over in the cramped space of the closet trying to give you as much space as possible but knowing that the first step was sitting with you. The man beside you sighed softly, feeling his heart splinter with every heaving sob that raked over you; he could feel his own tears prick at his eyes and a sob starting to well up in his throat but he held them back. Mustering up the courage and will he finally opened his mouth to speak.

“(Y/N) I am so, so fucking sorry,” his voice pitched just above a whisper because he knew if his voice got any deeper that it would startle you and scare you even more than how you were already feeling right now. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. It never should’ve hap-“

“Y- You br- broke your promise.” Your reply came in watery, stuttered breaths; the knot in Corpse’s throat came right back up, tears filling his waterline as much as he tried to keep his composure for your sake.

“I know. I know I did.” The man beside you managed to choke out thinking back to the day where he first lost his temper around you. You’d told him everything about your experience with your past relationships and how you were treated, what you used to cope and what he could do to avoid that in any way possible. He promised that day that he would never again raise his voice, or move too fast even when he was angry or frustrated, and made sure to note down anything that would possibly trigger you to completely avoid altogether. And he kept those promises… until today. Tilting his head to glance over at you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the closet to see you staring straight ahead, tears pouring endlessly down your damp face as your body still shook with soft cries.

“I can’t lose you (Y/N)” Corpse’s voice shook as he tried to figure out the right things to say that would keep you from walking right out that door.

“I’ll do anything. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll be better, I swear on my life I’ll be better. Anything you need— it’s yours. I just.. I can’t lose you. Not like this.” He hated how much he sounded like he was pleading when he’s the one who fucked up. The last thing he wanted to do was manipulate you into staying with him which was exactly what your ex did when they made the same mistake time and time again; something he swore he’d never even think of doing. But here he was, and here you were glancing up at him with bloodshot eyes, hair sticking to your tear slicked face and body shaking so much you’d think it was below freezing in there.

Tearing your gaze away from his, you heaved a watery, shaky sigh trying your best to get your thoughts in order. While you had your issues, you knew he had his as well; and with as much patience and understanding he gives you with your snappy, frustrated, sad days, you needed to give back that same patience and understanding with his own. You needed to be brave here.

“Baby-“

“C-Can you just hold me? Please?” You sputtered out just above a whisper, and before you could even unwrap your arms from around yourself Corpse was pulling you into his lap; strong arms encasing you as he pushed his face into your hair. That’s when you found out he was shaking just as much as you were, chest rising and falling erratically with contained sobs as he tried to keep his brave demeanour up for you. Tucking your head under his chin he leaned back against the wall as he crushed you to his chest, the droplets hitting the top of your head giving way to the fact that he was crying too. Pulling your arms up from your side, you slowly wrapped them around his shoulder as he pushed his face against the crook of your neck, sobs finally giving way as he cried helplessly into your shoulder; further dampening the already tear-soaked cloth of the hoodie you were wearing.

“I’m sorry,” Corpse sputtered, hooking his chin over your shoulder so he could keep up with the heaving of his chest, pulling an arm up from around your waist to rest on the back of your head. As much as he wanted to run his hands all over your body and bury his fingers in your hair to feel and memorize every inch of you, he kept them still not wanting to overwhelm you more than this kind of touch already did.

“I love you, I love you so much, I love you..“ he whispered over and over into the darkness of the closet as you both began to breath slower as one. Shushing him softly, you repeated the soft words back to him before wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders, ensuring him that you were going to be alright.

There would be bumps in the road but Corpse was worth it.

__________________________________

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse imagine

[butwhatifidothis]

i’m new to fire emblem and three houses is my first ever fe game. though i have 870+ hours in playtime it’s only one route, azure moon (i can’t let go of it yet. dedue... i’ll miss him too much), so i don’t know most characters personally.

i want to steel myself for crimson flower eventually because hey, i payed for the whole game and it’s dlc, i’m playing the whole game. do you know how to not trigger the *gags* “king of delusions” scene? i’ve seen it on youtube a while back and it just didn’t sit right with me. i dunno what it is about it, but it just gives me shit vibes, y’know? like, dimitri fan stuff aside, “my father was killed for you, my mother was killed BY you, and you will kneel before those you have slaughtered in the name of your ideals” “your obsession with me is appalling :(” (heavily paraphrasing bc it’s been a while) seems kinda, i dunno- narcissistic?? is that the right word? among a few others things. anyway, i want to avoid it at all costs. i heavily prefer the alternate scene with dedue telling dimitri just before he dies that he was happy to be at his side, making dimitri happy. (“please... rest in peace.” also makes me sob my eyes out in that good way like logan’s ending, “[you don’t have to fight anymore. don’t be what they made you-] so... this is what it feels like...”)

Damn that's a longass time for AM lmaoooo can't say much myself tho I put in a lot of time for VW lol

To not trigger the King of Delusion scene, you have to defeat Dedue before he transforms into a Demonic Beast.

Frankly, it shouldn't sit right with you - CF!Dimitri being called King of Delusion by Edelgard should be a pretty big red flag, since CF is where Dimitri is at his most mentally stable (barring the latter half of AM). And he gets called King of Delusion for... thinking Edelgard is involved in the Tragedy. For correctly saying that his father was killed for Edelgard. For saying that he wants Edelgard to face retribution for all the lives she's ended for her war. Those things that are... true. She is involved in the Tragedy - she helped cover it up, specifically shown on BE, making her involved with it. Lambert and everyone else were killed for Edelgard, something she knows. Edelgard herself admits that she is going to kill a lot of people in service to her cause. The only thing Dimitri is straight up wrong about is Edelgard killing Patricia, but frankly I'm not gonna fault the guy for thinking that someone willing to kill pretty much everyone else to get what she wants also killed her mother.

For Edelgard to respond to his 3 out of 4 correct accusations with "ew cringe" and then beheading him, without even a hint of self-reflection over what he's said even though she knows most of what he's saying it right, isn't exactly a good thing. She turns it back on him - poorly, at that - by trying to make him sound crazy. His obsession with her is appalling and if he were a normal human he would have died already, but if only he were born in a time of peace (which he would have been had it not been for Edelgard) he might have lived a nice life.

Ignore how she murdered all of his friends, some of them right in front of him. Ignore how she's helping the people that traumatized Dimitri for life, while knowing that that's what they've done to him. Ignore that she trying to forcefully take over his and his people's land. Ignore it all! Dimitri was manipulated by Thales into hating Edelgard, Edelgard did nothing at all to warrant Dimitri's hatred whatsoever! And also he's kookaloo anyway so we can just look over the fact that he's right in the majority of what he accuses Edelgard of doing <3

As much as it's a telling scene for Edelgard's character, I can very much understand why you'd want to avoid it lol, so yeah; again, you have to defeat Dedue before he transforms in order to get the alternative ending

#ask #anon #exqueuese me princess #anti edelgard #anti-edelgard #just to be safe #''Yeah so like I know that your life was ruined by me and my allies but you creep me out so like :/ die'' #also to clarify I know that Patricia is likely still alive lol

[thee-morrigan]

bromothymol is blue - violets are violet

*ahem* so uh, that supposed-to-be-short valentines-themed fic that was also supposed-to-be-posted-Monday (y'know, actually on valentine's day)?

yeah, she got absolutely out of control (peep that word count lmaoooo), but she is also finally done (!). It has been A Week and I have fully lost any sense of whether this is any good or needs ample editing or reads like a nyquil-induced fever dream so if you see anything especially wonky, no you don't <3 pairing: nate sewell x holland townsend (f!detective) rating: T wc: 6.8k (...how. h o w.) summary: "I don't celebrate Valentine's Day," and other outright lies Holland has told. [read on ao3]

It had taken some serious flexing of her puppy-eye muscles, but she’d managed to convince him to keep Valentine’s Day lowkey.

“Not nothing,” she’d couched, “just…quiet and intimate. We can avoid the crowds, the overpriced red blend…” Holland stepped closer to Nate, linking her fingers through his and smiling up at him hopefully. Guileless, sweet, earnest.

“Who said anything about red blend?” He laughed softly, arching a brow.

“Well, no one will call it that when they charge you eighty bucks a bottle without batting an eye. Doesn’t mean they didn’t get it from the nearest bodega.”

“Does Wayhaven even have bodegas?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, undeterred. “I promise we’ll still have fun,” she continued, smile widening with a flash of teeth, eyes still on his.

Nate sighed and shook his head slightly, but he was still smiling when he leaned down to kiss her, lifting their joined hands between them to pull her a hairs-breadth closer, bridging the scant distance between them.

“You,” he said as he pulled back but not away, still grinning at her. “Are so…”

“Winsome?” She grinned back. “Charming? Adorable?”

“Incorrigible,” he countered, brushing her lips with his again before kissing each corner of her mouth. “Persistent. Taking advantage.”

“Taking advantage? Excuse you, sir, I will not have such accusations leveled against me in my own apartment,” she exclaimed, though the force of her mock sternness was somewhat diluted by her barely contained giggling.

She moved as if to pull her hands from his, but he pulled her to him again, disentangling their fingers only to dance his across her ribs with just enough pressure to tickle her, tightening his grip when she gave a squeal of protest and squirmed against him.

“Shameless advantage-taking,” he said against her skin, his face pressed to her neck, and she shivered at the scratch of stubble on sensitive skin, the rumble of his voice against her throat, laughing so hard the only sounds that escaped her were sharp, gasping little hiccups of choked laughter.

When she had caught her breath enough to get any words out, she wrinkled her nose at him, still half-laughing as she said, “I’m pretty sure you are the one taking shameless advantage right now,” wrapping her arms around his waist, chin resting against his sternum as she looked up at him.

He gave a hum of amusement. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it was the only power I had with which to retaliate since I continue to find myself incapable of saying ‘no’ to you.”

In the end, she’d agreed to let him cook her dinner if they could otherwise keep things more relaxed, and that had been that.

So to say Nathaniel Sewell was pleasantly intrigued to find a small envelope tucked beneath his pillow when he awoke that morning, addressed to him in Holland’s looping script, would have been an understatement. He was no longer especially surprised to wake and find her gone — despite his heightened senses, when he slept, he slept deeply. Holland, conversely, tended to wake before dawn most mornings and seemed physically incapable of staying in bed once her body had decided it was officially waking hours.

But she didn’t usually leave envelopes beneath his pillow. Notes, sometimes, particularly if he stayed over at hers and she’d gone on an early coffee run or needed to go to the office for something. But those were almost always on post-it notes, the backs of old receipts, or scrawled along the envelopes of unopened junk mail. Brief and informal little missives stuck to mirrors or door frames, folded scraps of notepaper tucked into his pockets. Though never so brief that they failed to bring a soft smile to his lips, a little warm fullness to his chest at the casual sign-offs bearing misshapen doodled hearts and some variation of ‘xo, H’.

But very rarely anything like this. He sat up and ran one hand through his sleep-tousled hair as he turned the small envelope over in the other. Inside was a blue card designed to look like a candy heart. Instead of the usual dubiously grammatical slogan often found on the candies, though, the text printed on the paper heart formed a question. No, not a question: a joke.

What did the stamp say to the envelope on Valentine’s Day?

Mouth curving into a soft smile, he opened the card to reveal the punchline:

I’m stuck on you.

His smile widened as he read the note Holland had written underneath.

I know I’ll see you tonight but - I might have a little something for you that I think you’ll want before our date. In honor of the Truly Terrible joke on this card, an office-themed clue: stop by the place where I get all my stamps and some of my envelopes for a pre-dinner surprise.

PS - Would you believe me if I said this was by far the least terrible joke/card I found? Who keeps telling card-writers they’re good at jokes??

It hadn’t taken Nate long to figure out that she meant the station. Partially because she hadn’t been particularly cryptic in the first place, and partially because he’d witnessed more than one argument with Adam on whether it was unforgivably unethical to use office supplies for personal reasons. (And, given the degree of stubbornness between them, he suspected the argument would eventually make another appearance. He also suspected that Felix and Mason were continuing to make a sport of the argument through a series of increasingly ridiculous wagers.)

And yet, apparently, he hadn’t been quite quick enough; when he arrived at the station, Holland was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, shoot, you just missed her actually,” Tina Poname drawled, crossing her ankles as she leaned against one of the desks near the entrance to the precinct, mouth twisted in a little moue of hot pink sympathy.

“Apparently a full-fledged detective is required to confirm the only one poisoning Mrs. Lanneham’s dog is, in fact, Mrs. Lanneham, assuming she has once again left chocolates on her coffee table.” She shook her head ruefully. “Every year.”

She shrugged, then straightened a bit, as if she’d only just that second remembered something. She snapped her fingers with a flash of nails seeming to be the exact same shade of fuchsia as her lipstick. “Oh, but actually, though, hang on a second --”

She turned to shift a handful of papers on the desk behind her, spinning back with a pale purple envelope wedged between two fingers.

She beamed up at Nate and extended the envelope with a flick of her wrist. “Almost forgot. She did ask me to give you this if you came by. I’d say sorry it’s coming from me instead of her, but honestly, I’m kind of sorry it’s not actually from me,” she winked, though her smile was purely friendly.

Nate returned the smile and thanked her for passing along the note. As he eyed the envelope, he said, “I suppose it would be fruitless to ask if you happen to know anything about this.”

“This? I mean, I’d just thought, you know, it’s gotta be a Valentine’s Day card, right? What else would it be?” She tilted her head to one side with a little furrow of her brow, although she couldn’t keep her polite smile from turning a shade mischievous.

“What else could it be,” he agreed. “Well, thank you again for this,” he said, tucking the envelope inside his jacket and turning to leave. One hand on the door, he turned back briefly to Tina. “Oh, and I hope Mrs. Lanneham’s dog is all right.”

“Hm?” Tina blinked, though she recovered remarkably quickly. “Oh, yes, mmhm, she’ll be fine.”

Nate only gave her a small, gameful smile before pushing the door open and ducking through it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” She called to his retreating back, earning what sounded like a huff of laughter as the door swung shut behind him.

Tina waited until he was out of eyesight through the large windows lining the front of the building. Then another five minutes (or as close to it as she could stand to make herself, which turned out to be approximately four minutes and 42 seconds).

Then — finally — she bounced to the back of the station and the door that led into the stairwell. With perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, she slapped her palm against the crash bar. As the door swung open, she shouted down the stairs, “You can come out now!”, which earned a censorious look from an officer at one of the desks nearest her.

A fractured sentence carried Holland’s voice up the stairs from the lab. “— so many favors!”

Tina grinned, but her reply was interrupted by the muffled voice of Verda, whose tone seemed to indicate that shouting up the stairs when he was holding delicate instruments was perhaps not the way he wanted to liven up his weekdays.

Tina laughed, though her grin immediately turned sour at the loud, heavy sigh from Officer Grumpus next to her.

“Not a morning person?” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Just a working person,” the man responded, brows lifted as he stared pointedly at the folder open on his desk.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Tina said, as if that should both explain and excuse anything she might do today.

“It’s a workplace.” His voice was an affronted stage whisper.

“Oh, it’s not a library, Dean,” Tina scoffed, moving back to her own desk. “Go grab a chocolate truffle outta the break room or something.”

-

“Just tell him to check his phone, please.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, Mom,” Holland sighed into the phone, the verbal eye-roll only a little affected. She really hadn’t wanted to involve Rebecca, but she was an unfortunately convenient messenger for sending Nate on a scavenger hunt. Even if that meant Holland had been required to voluntarily call her mother.

“I just said I’d drop by the warehouse later with something he left at my apartment, but it looks like I’m gonna be working late, so he’ll either have to come here or potentially wait until tomorrow to get his book back. Well, technically my book that he’s borrowing,” she paused for half a breath, as if distracted by her own rambling.

Normally, she would’ve been inclined to say less rather than let herself babble; even the actual truth tended to sound flimsy when it was tangled up in unnecessary elaborations. Now, though, Holland was banking on her mother taking the scatter-brained chatter as an opportunity to offer her help and thereby chip away at whatever maternal neglect penance she thought she owed the universe or whatever.

Nevermind that he’d had a key to her apartment for months, which he presumably would’ve used this morning since she left before he did, so even if he had left something at her apartment, he could get it himself whether she was there or not. It wasn’t like she jumped at the chance to give Rebecca even more information about her life and who was or was not included in it and to what extent. The whole situation was already so goddamn weird without adding any unnecessary heart-to-hearts with her mother.

“Whatever, listen, doesn’t matter — I was just wondering if you could pass along the message if you see him.”

If Rebecca felt any tremor of surprise — pleased or otherwise — from the sheer volume of information her daughter had just shared with her — as if it were nothing — as if it hadn’t been more words than she’d probably said in a row to her mother in the past month — she kept them from reaching her face.

Carefully. She had to approach this unexpected openness carefully. She couldn’t let herself read too much into this, take it as an indication of progress towards an actual relationship, some half-step forward from the strange, almost-truce they’d established as a byproduct of suddenly, abruptly, seeing so much of each other.

So she said, “Oh. Ah, yes, of course. I’ll let him know. Or, actually,” she paused as if the thought had only just occurred to her, “If you want, I had some errands to run in town this afternoon; I could stop by your office and deliver the book for you if it would be helpful.”

Holland’s mouth twitched: a slight, tentative upward curve that she let filter into her voice. “Oh, really? You don’t have to do that.”

Rebecca tried not to sound too eager. “Really, it’s no trouble. It sounds like you have a lot going on today. I insist: I can be at your office within the hour if that’s all right with your schedule.”

-

“Thanks again,” Holland said a little while later as she handed the “borrowed” book to her mother. She offered a wry half-grin. “You can tell him my carrier pigeon took PTO this week.”

Rebecca gave a soft laugh, as much out of surprise at the comment as amusement.

“I’m surprised you’re working late tonight,” she said, apparently taking Holland’s joke as an invitation for further conversation.

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you wait until the last minute to file things.” Holland shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

“Oh. Well, I just meant since it’s Valentine’s Day. I assumed you’d be…well, that you and Nate had plans.”

Was she prying? Did she seem like she was prying? Maybe she was. Why did she always seem to falter through even the most straightforward conversations with her daughter when she so easily navigated much more treacherous interactions with ease?

Holland’s almost smile faded. “I don’t really do Valentine’s Day. And, anyway, the city council definitely doesn’t. I’ve got half a dozen cases with filing deadlines on the fifteenth. So, you know. Mass-marketed declarations of love don’t really take priority.”

“Ah, right, of course. I can certainly understand.” Rebecca kept her sympathetic hum brief: the kind of noise that offered only polite acknowledgment of a circumstance, rather than the kind that might indicate, for instance, that the speaker was extremely curious to learn whether opposition to “mass-marketed declarations of love” implied that other sorts of such declarations had been made.

It took an annoying amount of willpower for Holland to bite back the instinctive retort. To remind her mother that she was very aware that Rebecca would understand better than most how often work could take priority over petty obligations like loved ones. Instead, she smiled, tight and polite, thanked her mother again for being kind enough to stop by and deliver the book, and excused herself, saying she supposed she should get back to work.

Well. At least that was over with and had gone arguably better than expected — they’d even managed something approaching amicable small talk. Twice, in fact, if you considered the pleasantly neutral phone call earlier. Moreover, she’d even managed to extricate herself from the conversation without her mother taking a moment to register exactly what book she was so eager to lend. Not that she didn’t have half a dozen reasonably plausible explanations ready if pressed; but the less she needed to justify lending Nate what was technically a chemistry textbook, the better.

Holland tried not to dwell on the fact that even in her own head these justifications sounded pathetically flimsy. She was pretty sure emotionally manipulating her mother (even if her mother sucked at being her mother) into essentially running an errand for her was not something a good person would do. Okay, maybe very sure. But she didn’t have time to calculate exactly how much today might have contributed to her quarterly ‘asshole daughter’ quota.

After all, she had a fictitious pile of paperwork to get back to.

-

As it happened, Rebecca did not actually deliver the book to Nate, but instead to Adam, who was the only one of her team she found when she stopped at the warehouse that afternoon. This was probably for the best: if Rebecca had been mildly surprised at Holland’s apparently immediate need to pass along a borrowed book (on PH indicators, of all things) today rather than at a later time, she would have been positively taken aback by Nate’s reaction to finding it on one of the end tables in the living room, his face awash in what looked for all the world like relief as he scanned the cover.

Adam might also have found the incongruous expression on his friend’s face somewhat puzzling, though it was hard to tell what specific emotion the sharp quirk of his brow was meant to convey, exactly. While he wasn’t remotely surprised to see Nate taken with a book in general, this one looked particularly unremarkable to him.

In fact, the only really noteworthy thing as far as Adam could see was that it did not look like the kind of book about which Nate would get especially excited; when he’d glanced at the title earlier, he’d wondered briefly why something called a handbook of acid-base indicators would be of any interest at all.

Or what, specifically, it might contain that caused Nate’s expression to shift from relief to outright amusement as he read the inside cover.

“It looked like there was a note with it as well,” he said, gesturing with a jerk of his chin toward the book now clasped in Nate’s hands. Indeed, a white letter envelope was half-tucked between the pages towards the back of the book.

“Which I’m forced to assume was misappropriated from the police department’s supply cabinet,” he continued, eyeing the patch of blue on the corner sticking out of the book.

“Very probably,” Nate said, sounding distracted, eyes still on the book as he flipped another page.

“Well, I’ll let you get on with…whatever this is,” he said. “Misuse of office supplies aside, I’m not even going to ask why you seem so interested in, ah --” He glanced at the book cover again. “A book on ‘acid-base indicators’.”

“I don’t know that I have enough information yet to explain it to you even if you wanted to know,” Nate looked up then, smiling at his old friend. “Thank you for passing the book along though.”

Adam made a noise of acknowledgment, face still somewhat dubious as he turned to exit the living room. The second Adam left, Nate pulled open the envelope. This one bore only a simple notecard, upon which was printed:

some roses are red,

bromothymol is blue

congrats: you’ve reached your final clue.

Handwritten beneath the poem, Holland had added:

(and congrats on the knowledge that you won’t have to read any more of these incredibly cheesy cards today - that’s the real win if you ask me.)

Just as in a lab, your next stop has a dress code (though this one’s intended to impress more than protect). See you soon!

Love, your highest-heels-wearing girlfriend (who is somehow still probably half a foot shorter than you)

Nate smiled to himself as he read, although it became more bemused than fond as it registered that there wasn’t actually a clue contained within the note, despite the rhyme’s claim.

He re-read the poem, then the lines written beneath it. Other than hints as to attire — which, from the very limited information contained in the note, didn’t seem to suggest he dress differently from how he’d originally planned — there wasn’t much beyond the “see you soon!”.

Maybe on the back? He flipped the card over. Four lines at the bottom of the card. Maybe —

PS - You totally thought I was going to make you break into a high school science lab with that last clue, didn’t you? I’m a law-abiding community member. And I don’t have time to waste getting you out of it if you got caught - I’ve got more important plans for this evening (as do you).

He couldn’t help exhaling a laugh as he read the additional note scrawled there, even if it offered no further hints as to what these “important plans” might be. He sighed, still smiling, and ran a hand over his hair. Then he looked down at his watch. Well. He still had time to make their original dinner plans.

He turned to retrieve the book from where he’d placed it on the arm of a nearby chair, a half-formed thought scratching at his brain. He flipped the cover open and looked at the stamped label on the first page there, re-reading the imprint that had amused him when he first read it.

That. That was the clue.

Still smiling, he shut the book again with a muted snap and headed out of the room.

-

Back at her apartment, Holland was pacing. Well, not pacing, exactly: she supposed what she was doing could more accurately be considered wandering, moving in aimless loops from room to room of her small apartment. The wooden floors were smooth and cool beneath her bare feet, though it did little to quell the burning knots of anxiety snaking in intricate loops behind her ribs.

Stupid. This was such an absurdly stupid idea. Ridiculous — and cheesy — and dumb. Why did she think concocting an elaborate goose chase through Wayhaven’s oddest pockets of her own idiosyncrasies for an entire day would be fun for anyone? And, oh Jesus, her clues had been terrible, hadn’t they? They probably hadn’t meant anything to anyone aside from herself. Meaning Nate had probably not figured them out and had either:

1. Given up and was currently wondering why she wasn’t home for the very specific date she’d agreed to. Meaning she was not only weirdly inflexible about a stupid excuse for a holiday that she could have just agreed to go out for because it didn’t actually matter, but she was also accidentally standing him up for a date at her own damned apartment; or,

2. was still attempting to figure out what possible meaning her cryptic notes held because he was clearly far kinder to her than she was to him (because if the situation had been reversed, she would have immediately assumed her notes were nothing more than an indication that her girlfriend was actually the Zodiac Killer)

The idea of either of these (incredibly, in her opinion) probable outcomes made her feel like she was having either acute indigestion or perhaps a mild heart attack.

She smoothed her hands against her sides, resisting the urge to tug at her dress, suddenly very aware of all the places where the fabric hugged her body.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she breathed, spinning to survey her reflection for the absolute last time in the heavy wrought iron mirror propped on the wall next to her front door. Aside from her face, which was currently set in a glower that she suspected looked more pouty six-year-old than threateningly unimpressed, she looked completely fine.

Actually, if she was being honest, she looked better than fine.

The dress was a muted grey-blue, shifting into occasional glints of dulled silver when folds of the loose fabric caught the light, reminding her of a winter river. The washed silk of the fabric contributed to this perception, the fall of it a gentle weight against her skin, the hem rippling smooth and cool against her shins when she moved.

As it had throughout her relentless pacing back and forth across her apartment this evening.

Ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. And this was just a dinner, for Christ’s sake. They’d had so many dinners. If this one happened to have included some amount of advanced planning and scheming on her part, then so be it. A dinner that required surreptitious machinations was nonetheless still fundamentally just a dinner.

She made a face at her reflection, then started at the knock on her door, the noise sparking a bubble of startled adrenaline that dissipated into a hiccup of laughter that was as much from a kind of relief as it was from surprise. Her eyes shifted to the clock on the coffee maker across the way on her kitchen counter. Right on time, as he always was.

Which either meant her clues had not been as completely asinine as she’d thought, or that he knew her well enough to make sense of her bread crumb trail. Either possibility was mildly gratifying (and she was under no obligation to consider whether one possibility perhaps pleased her more than the other).

Though her laugh had faded as abruptly as it had escaped her, her grin remained as she reached for the doorknob, gaze skimming upwards to meet that of the man waiting on the other side of her front door.

“Hi,” she said, stretching up onto her tiptoes for a kiss, palms pressed flat against Nate’s chest for balance. He readily leaned down to oblige her, one hand lifting to cup her face, the other coming to rest against the small of her back.

“Hi,” he replied when she rolled back onto the balls of her feet, returning her smile. She smoothed her hands down the front of his shirt before she moved to step back, then paused with a puzzled half-laugh as she realized belatedly that the hand resting against her spine was not, in fact, empty.

Nate pulled his arm back between them, holding a book out to her. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Holland’s grin widened as she took the proffered paperback. “I love that you bring me books instead of flowers,” she quipped, stepping back to let him in and setting the book on the small wooden bench next to her door.

“I don’t know that giving you your own books back to you counts,” he remarked, following her as she padded further into her living room.

“Besides,” he added, “You don’t like flowers.” His smile turned teasing as his gaze skated down the veritable garden inked onto her arms before returning to her face. “Somehow.”

“I love flowers,” she said sweetly, perching on an arm of the sofa and leaning forward a bit, tips of her fingers pressing into the fabric on either side of her hips. “That’s why I want them to live long lives where they’re planted instead of spending two days dying on my kitchen table. Books last longer.”

“Not with you they don’t.”

“Please, you read way faster than I do,” she scoffed, then held up a hand as he opened his mouth to respond. “I know, I know: you’ve had more time to practice. I’m just saying, it is achingly unfair that you get to be both the pretty one and the smart one in this relationship.”

Nate laughed aloud then, stepping closer to her and reaching to tip her face up with one warm brown hand, long fingers tangling in the hair at her nape. He rubbed his thumb along her bottom lip, a gentle tug at the half-formed pout. Still laughing softly, he bent to kiss her. Any lingering purse of dissatisfaction on her mouth softened as she opened for him, leaning into the warm, gentle caress of his lips against hers. She felt that delicious warmth spread as the kiss deepened, her hands lifting from the couch to snake beneath his suit jacket and around his waist as his free hand ghosted slowly up her thigh before coming to rest against her hip.

“The absolute injustice,” Holland murmured into the scant space between them when she finally pulled back, bumping her nose against his with a breath of a laugh.

“My love, we might have to agree to disagree on both counts,” Nate replied, thumbing gentle circles across her hip bone, the warmth of his hand seeping through the silk of her dress, which suddenly felt like a barrier both impossibly flimsy and yet impassable beneath that warm weight. “Particularly if we’re taking today into account. Bromothymol? Really?”

She didn’t need to see his face to know precisely which shade of teasing smile he was giving her, so she didn’t, choosing instead to press further against him, nestling her face against the column of his throat. He hadn’t worn a tie, choosing instead to leave the topmost buttons of his immaculate white shirt undone, and it seemed like an unacceptable waste not to take advantage of the tanned expanse of skin begging to be kissed.

“Bromothymol is blue,” she said into the hollow of his collarbone, lips curving into a satisfied smile at the noise he made in response, the way the hand on her hip tightened. “Violets are, overwhelmingly, violet.”

He made a breathy sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh, slowly tilting his head back down to look at her like it was simultaneously the hardest and easiest thing in the world: to pull any distance away from her — to look into her face.

“If I am meant to have an epithet in this relationship, I would argue I’m the lucky one,” he murmured, fingers stroking along the side of her neck.

“Sweet talker,” she chided gently, one corner of her mouth crooking upward in a fond grin. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

She raised one hand to cover the one he still had resting against her neck. “Except apparently out of my apartment.” She squeezed his hand gently then released it, rising from her sofa arm perch and moving to sidle past him. “And if we keep doing this I’m going to find it harder to remember we’ve got places to be.”

She turned to move further into the apartment, tossing a smile over one shoulder as she started down the hallway towards her bedroom. “As soon as I put on shoes.”

He followed her down the hall, leaning against her door frame as she disappeared behind the open door of her closet, hands sliding into his pockets. “What kinds of places have we got to be?”

“You’ll see,” she called from inside the closet.

“No more secret messages or clues, then?” Oh, he would probably be forever teasing her about today, even if he did sound intrigued by the apparent endpoint of this adventure.

“Nope,” she said with a little popping finality on the word, her voice light.

“I lied, by the way,” she said as she emerged from her closet, a jacket draped over her bare shoulders, balancing on one stilettoed foot while she wiggled her other foot into the remaining boot. “These aren’t my highest heels. Those would be impractical.”

“Impractical for what, exactly?” Nate asked, looking equal parts bemused and intrigued as he followed her back out into the hallway and out of her apartment.

“Impractical for how many flights of stairs I’m willing to climb in them,” she said with a half-smile.

He raised his brows in silent question as if to ask: Stairs to where?

But Holland only arched one back at him and said again, “You’ll see,” reaching to twine her fingers through his.

-

Nate followed Holland up four flights of stairs, the last of which was behind a smaller metal door on the uppermost landing, separated from the rest of the walk-up’s old stone staircases. At the top of this separate, narrower staircase lay another metal door, which Holland pushed open with the gentle scraping sound of resistance as if the door hadn’t been opened much recently. Hand still linked with his, she pulled them both out onto a garden terrace on the roof of the building.

Though Holland privately suspected the so-called green roof was more greenwashed marketing than anything — and a fine excuse to increase her rent — she couldn’t say she didn’t enjoy the space. Especially on evenings like this, when the air smelled like the promise of spring, and the chill of a February night had lost much of its bite in the wake of the mild weather they’d been having lately. There was a gentle breeze, but it was only just strong enough to send the perfume of the garden’s flowering wintersweet and viburnum rippling past every so often from where the blooms spilled out of the neat rows of wide-planked wooden planter boxes lining the outside walls of the rooftop’s main attraction.

At the roof’s center, occupying the lion’s share of space, stood a greenhouse, all glazed glass panes and dark metalwork framing. Though the entirety of the terrace was well-lit by the combined efforts of evenly spaced pathway lights, moonlight, and the surrounding trickle of the town’s light pollution, these paled in comparison to the twinkling spectacle of the glass building in their midst.

Although inside it would undoubtedly be diffuse and gentle as firelight, the soft white light of the hanging lamps inside the greenhouse shone in striking contrast to the surrounding night sky. Where the dark lines of the building’s frame formed arches and trellises, vining plants were interspersed with winding strands of fairy lights, glimmering and winking where their light caught the streaks of condensation along the glazed glass walls and roof.

Whatever outside chill might be present, whatever breeze might be amplified by the height of the roof, would be nonexistent within the warmth that beckoned inside that greenhouse, where Holland knew the air would be warm and sweet, redolent with the fragrant plants within.

And with the undoubtedly mouthwatering aromas from the menu she had barely had to ask Haley to help coordinate for this evening. Between her and Tina, she had some really, really good friends, she thought with a swell of gratitude before turning her mind back to the present moment.

She breathed in the sharp wintry air and twisted to watch Nate as he took in the scene. When he finally turned to look at her, dark eyes warm and bright, she grinned. “Tell me again how much I don’t like flowers?”

Nate laughed then, a rumble of sheer, rich delight that was a song in her veins as he pulled her to him and swept her up in a kiss before the laughter had fully died from his lips.

When he finally released her, he was no longer laughing, though his smile remained. “I’ll tell you how much I love you,” he offered, hands cradling her face as he studied the features, the person, that had become so impossibly precious to him. Marveled as he watched her face, cheeks already pink from the chill night air, flush with pleasure, the scant smattering of pale freckles that dusted her nose vanishing beneath the rosy glow, at the knowledge that he could so easily draw such reactions from her — that she could so affect him, too, perhaps more easily than she knew.

Nate often wondered if she really understood the true extent of her hold on him — if she registered the power she wielded with the slightest quirk of her brow or her mouth (her delightful, wicked mouth and the things she said with it, the things she did with it), curving into the wry grin that had come to seem so quintessentially Holland and, thus, so necessary to him.

That teasing smile curled at the corner of her mouth now as she looked up at him, green eyes gleaming in the low light. “A little off-topic, but nonetheless acceptable response,” she said, grin widening. “Now, c’mon. I believe I agreed to dinner as an acceptable Valentine’s compromise.” She covered his hands with her own, sliding them down from her face, then tilted her head towards the greenhouse.

“I don’t remember the dinner you agreed to remotely resembling this,” Nate remarked as they crossed the terrace.

Her heels clicked along the flagstone pavers lining the paths between rows of flowerbeds and the smattering of fruit trees the building’s owner had planted years ago. “Hey, I think this very much qualifies as ‘quiet and intimate’,” she pointed out. “I mean, I guess you could get more intimate, but you might lose out on some of the quiet then, so,” she gave a light laugh.

“Holland.” He tugged gently at her wrist as they entered the sweet-scented warmth of the greenhouse, struck once more at the obvious care and planning that she’d put into tonight, into celebrating a holiday towards which she had always seemed overwhelmingly ambivalent.

Because he cared about it.

Because what she cared about was him.

For him. All of this, for him. Even though he’d been absolutely fine with the idea of lowkey. Even if he would’ve been absolutely fine if they hadn’t done anything at all. Even though she knew he would have been perfectly willing to scrap the idea of Valentine’s Day, this year or in general, if she really thought it was a waste of time.

Because it wasn’t that significant to him. He liked it, sure, and he liked romantic gestures and the intentionality of dates that were meant to feel special, luxuries that carved out pockets of the extraordinary from the otherwise ordinary moments that made up a life with another person. But those moments could be pulled from any of the million tiny motions of ordinary love. It didn’t actually matter if they happened in observation of a particular holiday or not.

But because he did still like it — the celebrating, the romance, the little rituals of it — even if it wasn’t necessarily important, she treated it as if it was important.

Because what was important to her was him.

She paused and turned to look at him, head tilted in silent question.

“I —” he stopped, surprised to feel at a loss for words. He swallowed, then started again, settling on, “Thank you,” even though it didn’t feel completely adequate.

“No one has ever done anything like this for me,” Nate continued, voice soft. “Ever.” He felt the thrumming little jump in her pulse where his fingers still encircled her wrist, even as she immediately moved to dismiss it.

“I’m very confident this is not even in the top ten nicest dinners you’ve ever attended,” she said, though her smile felt a little stiffer than she’d intended. “Especially considering how many dinners might be in your sense of ‘ever’.”

He tightened his grip on her wrist, a gentle emphatic squeeze. “This is not just a dinner. And even if it were,” he pressed, as she opened her mouth to respond, “it would still be — by far — the best gift I have ever received.”

A lie. Or at least not the entire truth, he thought. The greatest gift wasn’t the dinner, or the planning, or the trail of offbeat bread crumbs that had led him right back to her door as if he’d needed that guidance. She — this willful, irreverent, unfailingly kind woman — was the real gift.

“A scavenger hunt that included an abandoned building and my mother is the best gift you’ve ever gotten? If you say so.” Another sharp cock of one brow, the curl of a smile meant to be teasing, but… her eyes were a little too bright and serious to carry the play at nonchalance with any conviction.

She wondered if it were possibly, improbably true — not that it hadn’t taken effort on her part, and more than a bit of planning, but still. It was meant to be a nice surprise, the kind of silly, romantic gesture that would mean something to him, something more than it might otherwise have to her, but…it wasn’t really that big a deal, was it?

And if it was, then…

When, in his long, immortal life, had he last felt cherished? And how much time had he spent ensuring that those he cared about did?

“I do say so,” he smiled at her. “So, thank you.”

And because she wasn’t sure what to do with the tightness in her chest (which could, after all, merely be the heart attack or indigestion she had suspected earlier in the evening), she said only, “Well…you’re welcome,” without any of her usual catalog of teasing or dismissive commentary.

-

Later, over the remains of a dessert so obscenely luscious that Holland had briefly considered asking Nate if he would be extremely bothered by her proposing to Haley if only so she could have it whenever she wanted (i.e., every day for the rest of forever), Nate asked, “So, should I be expecting any additional surprises or mysterious hints this evening?”

Holland lifted one shoulder, then glanced down at her bare forearms, having discarded her jacket earlier in the warmth of the heated greenhouse. “I think I’d need sleeves to have any further tricks stashed away.” Her smile would have been believably charming if not for the arch glint in her eyes, a shimmer of playful challenge that he’s not sure he could help answering, even if he wanted to.

“Something tells me you would be perfectly fine with or without sleeves,” he said, and though his voice was mild, the midnight-dark promise that sparked in his own eyes was decidedly, wonderfully not.

Holland arched a brow, reaching her fork across to spear a lone raspberry off his plate and pop it into her mouth, then said, her smile a wicked flash of teeth, “You’ll see.”

#did i mention i was Back On My Bullshit? #bc i am very back on it. pure clownery. #the way i really did give myself permission to go full self-indulgence here #love that for me #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #katie writes things #oc: holland townsend #ship: your entire heart

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ

_________________________

ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: (ANON) Hi 🤗 would you do a bday imagine for me? I adore your writing so much! A Bucky one where it’s your anniversary but you get called on a mission and it goes slightly wrong as you see a little bomb thrown in bucks direction. You push him aside and take the full impact of the explosion. You barely survive with serious injuries and you end up being revived and later in a coma and Bucky is always by your side. One day you finally wake up again and Bucky takes care of you and it’s all cute?

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: soft fluffy smut because i can’t help myself lol (OMG IT’S NOT FLUFFY LMAOOOO) (i was finna do fluffy smut for their anniversary but it got filthy real quick ajhfbguhrtg, angst, scared bucky :(

cw: violence and graphic depictions of fighting and bombs and death *sad face*

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: I'm so sorry I couldn't get this to you sooner love i was having a really hard time with this concept and i just didn’t feel confident in what it was becoming but i really like what i came up with so I hope you had a beautiful birthday and enjoy bug!!

ps: we’re working on anti-valentine part 2 ;)

_____________________

“Y/n!”

Ringing echoed in your ear painfully.

“Please, don’t leave me. I need you,” you heard Bucky’s voice echo as well.

Smoke filled your lungs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your leg burned but you can’t seem to figure out why it did.

“Y/n, keep your eyes open, come on, baby,” Bucky voice sounded warped and you tried your hardest to focus on his voice. Your eyes grew too heavy and soon you blacked out.

“Help!”

“Somebody!”

“She’s fallen into a come; it was all we could do.”

“I’m here, baby.”

“The other day, Steve and I went to the store and I found your favorite flowers. I just had to buy them of course; for you.”

“Peter asked about you today, I didn’t really know what to tell him so I told him about the story of when we first met.”

“Baby, please wake up; I need you, I miss you so fucking much.”

“Wake up.”

“Wake up.”

“WAKE UP!”

Bucky sat next to you by your bed as you laid still and unmoving just as you had been for the past three months. Bucky came everyday to the medical center and talked to you even though he knew you probably couldn’t hear him. He held your hand softly and suddenly the heartbeat monitor that you were hooked up to for the time being began beeping very quickly. Worried, Bucky called for Dr. Cho and Bruce to come to the medical center as soon as possible.  

“What happened?” Bruce asked Buck.

“I don’t know, I was just sitting here and it started beeping really fast,” Bucky said, panicked.

“Ok can you step out please?” Bruce started to lead him out and others arrived at the medical center after hearing the commotion.

“No, I’m not leaving her,” Bucky fought.

“Bucky, please,” Bruce begged.

“No, no!” Bucky thrashed around as Steve grabbed him and pulled him out. 

Hours later felt like an eternity as Bucky waited outside your door. He waited for any news but he was clueless. Nat, Sam, Steve, and Tony waited with him also clueless about the status of your condition. Wanda and Vision had returned from a mission aware of the news and rushed to meet the rest of the team at the medical center. 

“Is she awake?” Wanda asked breathlessly.

“We don’t know,” Nat answered.

“Vis?” Wanda turned to him.

“I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a state of panic, I don’t think I can get an evaluation right now,” he said sadly.

“Don’t stress, you two. Go get some rest. We’ll let you know what happens,” Steve told them.

They waited all night and by morning they all rested on top of each other, heads on each other's shoulders still waiting for any type of news. When the door suddenly opened, everyone who was asleep instantly and simultaneously woke up anxious for what news they’d receive.

“Barnes,” Bruce said softly; Bucky expected the worst, tears brimming his eyes silently preparing himself for the end of his happiness. 

“She asked for you,” he said and Bucky sobbed, thankful you were awake. He took a very deep breath and walked through the door alone.

When his eyes met yours he felt like he couldn't breathe anymore. You looked so beautiful and he couldn’t believe you were awake again. He waited so long to be able to hear your voice, hold you close, tell stories and laugh with you.  

“Bucky,” you whispered.

He lunged at you and hugged you tightly and you hugged him back just as hard. 

“You came back to me,” Bucky sobbed into your shoulder.

“Of course I did; I always come back to you,” your voice croaked.

“I missed you so much, baby,” he cupped your face.

“What happened?”

“You played hero, like you always do,” Bucky chuckled.

You were held up after being ambushed by too many Hydra agents. You had the material you needed and sent it over to Fury and Hill; now you just had to get the hell out of there but that was proving to be an entire challenge in itself.

Hydra had thrown smoke bombs at you two in hopes to distract and lose you but you proved to be stealthier and stronger taking out many agents already. Bucky was busy fighting an agent as were you and you took down your agent before he did. 

You turned to him and to the very side of Bucky a man had detonated a bomb that wasn't a smoke bomb. You didn’t think much before you moved forward and covered the bomb with your body. Bucky snapped the neck of his enemy and grabbed you to pull you away from the bomb but it got stuck to leg and exploded.

Ringing echoed in your ear painfully. 

Smoke filled your lungs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

Bucky grabbed you and knew it was best to not move you considering the state you were in; he couldn’t risk a single thing. More hydra agents flooded in and Bucky grabbed the gun you held and fired perfect headshots to each agent killing every single one easily. 

He held you close and tried to connect to someone but the bomb interfered with both your comms. He yelled and screamed and cried keeping you in his arms looking for anyone who could be a friend nearby. 

Your eyes fluttered and he kept telling you to stay awake, to keep talking, to stay alive. He couldn’t lose you. 

“Hey, you can’t leave me; today’s our anniversary, remember? Four years today. The best four years of my life baby. I can’t lose you,” he cried.

Your body felt limp in his arms and he cried even more. The quinjet came up and medics came and took you away from him. He yelled and shouted and protested but ultimately broke down from feeling helpless. 

Hours later they came and told Bucky that they put in a medically induced coma; it was all your body was willing to negotiate. 

“She’s fallen into a come; it was all we could do.”

Bucky stayed by side all night and everyday until today. Your body reacted to the memories and everything Bucky had told while you were asleep. You fought and man did you fight hard. You needed to wake up and you did just that; reunited with the love of life 3 months later.

“God, I love you so much,” Bucky kissed you. 

“I love you too.”

============

“Bucky have you seen my black shirt? The one with the laces in the back?” you shouted.

“Did you check the clothes on the hangers?”

“Found it!”

Bucky straightened his shirt with a chuckle as he looked at himself in the mirror. Since the two of you originally missed your anniversary date because you almost got yourself killed. Tony gifted you two a reservation for dinner to celebrate. 

Bucky turned around and found staring back at him wearing your black top \you found; you had a small smile on your face.

“You look so beautiful darling,” he whispered holding your hips gently.

“You look very handsome, my love,” you kissed him faintly.

“You ready?” you nodded.

Dinner sucked.

The food was alright, not incredible like you guys had been expecting but that wasn’t even the worst of it. The waiter that was attending to you was constantly flirting with you and Bucky wasn’t having it. When he requested a new one, the waitress that came suddenly lost the top buttons of her shirt and flirted with Bucky. 

So you two left. 

When you got back to your shared room, Bucky pressed you hard against the door as soon as it closed. His lips kissing you hard and his hand already untying the strings that laced your top. Your hands gripped his shirt and soon entangled themselves in his hair. 

“Fucking asshole,” Bucky grunted.

“You think you had a bad time? The bitch suddenly had her tits out when she started waiting us,” you groaned, making Bucky laugh. 

“Yeah that wasn't a great experience. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Don’t be; all I need is you and already have that,” you whispered against his lips.

“I fucking adore you,” he said, picking you up and tossing you in the bed.

You sat up and pulled Bucky close to you as you seductively unbuttoned his shirt. Bucky bit his lip as he stared at you and you suddenly felt very small.

“No, don't get all shy on me. Keep going darling,” he encouraged.

You moved your hands down and unbuckled his belt pulling his pants and boxers down his thick thighs you loved so much. You kissed his chest and let your hands roamed across his stomach and waist pulling him close. 

He pushed you down on the bed and kissed you breasts, tracing his tongue down the center of your chest to your stomach. He slowly curled his fingers over the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled down your legs as you did to him. 

He kissed up your legs before reaching over to the bedside table and pulled a condom from inside the drawer. He pulled it down over his length and pumped a few times before settling perfectly between your hips. 

Your legs wrapped around his own hips, excitedly anticipating what's to come. Bucky cupped your face gently, slowly sliding into you with ease. Since you left the stupid resteraunt, you knew Bucky was pissed off and Bucky was pissed you got absolutely railed into oblivion. You were just waiting, arousal dripping from you, for him to snap.

He gave little time to adjust to enormous size; you were already a jittery and whimpering mess underneath him. Your chest heaved up and down and Bucky sat up on his knees pulling you with him. You held his shoulders tightly and continued to move up and down, riding Bucky. 

“You look so beautiful, baby. Fuck, I love you so much,” Bucky wrapped his hand around your throat, sqyeezing ever so gently, and pulled you against his lips. With his other hand he held both of your hands behind your back tightly; your chest flushed against his. He could feel your hardened nipples pressing into his skin.

“Bucky,” you moaned.

“Feel good? My cock feel good fucking you deep inside?” he grabbed one of your hands and placed it on your lower stomach; you could feel him poking your hand slightly with each vigorous thrust.

“Oh fuck, baby,” you moaned looking down in between your bodies. The obscene sounds of him moving rapidly in and out of you echoed in the large bedroom. The sight was just as filthy but you were basking in every second of it. 

Bucky flipped your body over and pulled your hips up harshly immediately slamming back into you. Your back arch and Bucky’s hands rubbed deliciously up and down your spine. He lifted his hand briefly and striked down smack your ass hard. Your head threw back quickly and you moaned loudly at the tingling sensation left imprinted on you.  

Bucky hips snapped into yours repeatedly, seemingly to be chasing his orgasm. Wanting to meet him, you snaked your hand down your front and circled your clit tightening the coil in your stomach. You heard Bucky grunts get louder as did your moans until finally you felt Bucky hips come to a sudden stop. 

Your body shook violently as you came hard; your head fell into the pillows and you let out a pornographic moan; high-pitched and shaky. You felt Bucky’s lips moving up your spine softly and your body trembled under them. His hands caress your sides as he gently pulled out.

“You did so well for me, my love. You were perfect,” he whispered. You simply breathed heavily trying to steady your heart rate. You could feel Bucky moving behind you and quickly returned to clean your body up and his too. 

“Baby?” he whispered when he was finished cleaning.

“Hm?” you hummed.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, that was incredible,” you smiled lazily.

“You are so perfect to me. So good to me,” he cuddled you; you squirmed and bit your lip smiling at him of which he returned.

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

“Well, uh happy late anniversary, doll,” he said, making you laugh.

“Happy late anniversary.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel fics #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes smut

[lazycheesecakeee]

Stray kids as love languages

Ok so I started thinking and that’s never good and somehow this got CHUNKY AF :))) But I hope you enjoy reading my messy thoughts about skz expressing love :)

Bang Chan

Giving: Gifts/Words of affirmation

Yeah SO… we all know how he always seems to always give the closest people to him, like everything, including the moon and a fucking rocket to the moon as well, and build it too, that before he gets anything at all? He is definitely a giver. He buys food, drinks, anything.

Anything you would accomplish, no matter how small would be an excuse for him to go out and buy you a meal and while you are there, if you only happen to glance at something twice, you already have it? Yeah you might feel bad and try to pay or say “stop giving me things all the time” but he would not stop and he would buy you the thing and shower you with praises for how well you did, even if you think it is not such a big deal.

You have a normal day when nothing happened? You go to the store together, he pays. He comes to visit you randomly. On the way he buys a flower and a random chocolate or a drink because he remembers somehow that you said you wanted to try it like 3 months ago. And the list never ends. He has a good sense for what people want too. So if you are close to him he gives you EVERYTHING. Showers of praises and all of his fucking money :)))) BOY HAS NO LIMITS.

Receiving: words of affirmation

Listennnn, as much as he gives and never stops, like NEVER. (Take his credit card away lmaoooo), when you acknowledge his little appreciations and thank him sweetly or give him a hug to let him know you are grateful, he gets immense satisfaction. I feel like he is the one to give but if he feels like he is used in the slightest he definetly cuts the rope short real FUCKING FAST.

I feel like he def is SUCH a sucker for appreciation and words of affirmation AND COMPLIMETS. He wants to feel needed and like his efforts are worth it. And giving him the verbal queue that his efforts don’t go unnoticed, that despite his busy schedule you appreciate the time with him, that his hard work and struggles to be the best are worth it, that the nights in the studio are fruitful and he is doing a good job, THAT would really make his entire day and his anxieties dissipate. Let him know he is wanted. Poor baby someone give him a sleep schedule too and some melatonin :)))))

Lee Know/Minho

Giving: Acts of service

He def strikes as one weird cranky, moody, annoying bitch with his behaviour but if you pay closer attention he is actually so observant and thoughtful/caring. He seems like you would not want to go to him for things but I actually think that if you take the time and grow close to him he is one of the most caring and protective people tbh.

Like it’s in his nature to pay attention to what close ones are doing, their schedules, interests and habits. He is the kind of person to never purposefully say or make a fuss out of doing something but somehow he knows you need something or you want something. And he buys the thing and puts it in the fridge. Or changes the sheets because he feels you are too sad and unmotivated and that would be good. Or buys something definitely because “he wanted it” but gets more, and a side of the thing you like a lot, because “it was there”, definitely not because he thought of you and that it would bring you joy. Or he would like pick a prescription for you or refill your water bottle before leaving or tell you to bring band-aids because you complained those shoes hurt you. Or tell me this boy would not chop the onions for the pasta sauce so you don’t ruin your mascara (I am not sobbing you are).  And he somehow fits himself in and things add up so well and your life is so much easier despite him claiming he „did nothing”.

Receiving: Words of affirmation

Although it doesn’t seem like it, something tells me it’s true. I read on an internet thing that people that seem cold and don’t want/seem to have the need for verbal affirmation and validation from strangers get actually more satisfaction from it than people who say it explicitly.

He also def strikes me like he was raised to be tough, to recover fast, to not be a cry baby and just get up and do the job, suck it up, be strong and independent. A little bit of trust issues into the mix as well ☹ You can actually kinda see a sort of anxious behaviour type of thing in him. So I feel like if you actually grow closer to him (ahem Jisung), acknowledging his efforts and how he makes your life easier, THAT would bring out the asshole being like “oh really? Hm interesting you think I do so much for you huh?” but he actually does thooo and you saying it would bring him like so much joy and make his heart happy.

Like each time you give him a compliment TM he would act like “yeah I know” or act disgusted but high key it soothes his spirit and ego when you say such things. He just loooves to hear how much you loved something he cooked or how attractive he was while dancing or how he was really thoughtful, and you appreciate it sm. He seems to have the nature to give, and he seems to expect to go unnoticed but when and if you do acknowledge his heart is actually swooning over it.

Changbin

Giving: Physical touch/Gifts

I think he would be the type to bring weird things to you for no reason along with 1000 kisses and a hug that is a bit too tight you know? Like his mind gets occupied with you if you are close.

And like he saw this weird card at the store or a little figurine or something which has a weird patters and he thought “Hm they must see this. They would like this strange ass thing I bought which was overpriced”. And when he gives you the thing you give like an odd smile and in your eyes is a „love you but wtf is this” and he would take your hands and look down and kiss them and say “I don’t know i thought you might like it?” And you would tease each other and he would start doing ayego and get really shy and just hug you again and place his head in your neck to avoid the eye contact, then lift you up and spin you and from there you have no chances of escaping the embrace TM.

Receiving: Physical touch

I feel like he would be a sucker for physical touch as your love language as well. If you reciprocate hugs, kisses and stuff. You know he seems like the kind to find comfort in holding you for no reason, like a hand on the knee or on your waist and if you two are comfy and give him little pets, stroke his hair, place your hand on his shoulder or biceps or take his hand with both yours or grab his middle randomly, he would swoon. Also you clinging to him and letting him cling to you I think is like thing he wishes for most tbh:) I feel like he feels safety and love by holding onto you and you onto him like he can protect you. He would like to know you trust him with that, ya know? Like he is a strong bitch ready to fight anyone coming at you and can protect you but is also your smol koala child which you can never escape.

Hyunjin

Giving: physical touch

Now this might seem weird to you BUT. He seems like he touches people out of nowhere sometimes and kinda clings. Not like all the time but enough. Like he likes being really close to you if he is close to you, you know?. He would be all up in your face with his weird ass mannerisms and humour but if they are reciprocated and he feels safe and good around you he naturally starts to cling if that makes sense? Like in a way a sort of telling others: “mine, you cannot have them before me” but also in the sense that you know he would do anything for you if you ask in those instances. Like YO, you have me, soul and body next to you, I am here :)))

Like he doesn’t seem like the type to buy things a lot (cheap ass I see you :)))) although he would sometimes) But he makes up by being there and encouraging you despite not knowing how to act or what to say all the time, he lets you know you can count on him and he is there. I feel like his touch expresses appreciation.

Receiving: words of affirmation/quality time

He strikes me as attention demanding lmao:)) OH I am yours pay attention to me I am your baby I require love and affection, undivided.

So if you make time to have lunch with him or have conversations before bed in peace (my dude seems like his thoughts overwhelm him all the time and honestly same :/ it’s kinda yikes tbh), or watch a movie/tv show, or just be in his presence when he is both excited or down, and listen to him rant and give him solutions or rant with him about random subjects and jumping around between them subjects, you would get all the uwus and he would probably be ready to dedicate his entire existence to your well being and desires.

He is just like that, a dramatic ass with overly changing emotions who wants a good connection, like a genuine one, where hours go by and someone truly understands him and things flow, ya know? (seems like the type to believe in fate type of love, which I find interesting)

Han Jisung

Giving: Physical touch/ Words of affirmation

He seems really touchyyyyy TM. But like in the way that shows physical affection because he seems a little insecure? That is kinda what he strikes me as. Like he wants to hold you. He wants to show you have him. He wants to be appreciated :( my child (and bias) help me I am sobbing:))) and he wants to make sure you know he appreciates you just as much.

Like he would hold your hand, hug you a lot or place random kisses and linger in those places? An he would compliment you and tell you your work is amazing and that he is proud and he would make lots of idiotic jokes to cheer you up, no matter the mood (we stan crackhead humour in this household) and he would tell you the most random shit he likes about you. Like “I like your socks” or “you changed your bag” or “the perfume is oddly floral just like your shirt and I like it”.

And he would make random short freestyle raps (kill me now I am in too deep) about you or a random thing you are doing. And he would just linger around you when you are busy and can’t give him attention. He wants to show trust and love through little gestures and trusts you to see them as a sign of his love because you make him happy and all.

Receiving: ALSO Physical touch/words of affirmation idk

I feel like he would like physical touch back? Like he would be fine if you didn’t like it, but like since he is like anxious and (to me) seems like a little overly aware of his “flaws and deficiencies”, he would like to know he has your “hold”. Like some sort of security type of thing.

Like small gestures, your hand on him, a little kiss, a hug, a squish :))), a little grip of reassurance and a nod of “you are doing good”. I think he would be a sucker for that. And also despite him lowkey rejecting your compliments like “yeah I know I am the best”, giving it to him would boost his self-esteem a lot, as I think he has many insecurities and quite a few complexes that are hard to express for him. So that, along with your touch and words to reassure him, he would love and get the idea that you want him close too, that he’s desired enough for you to seek his love, something like “you my dude are seen and loved for who you are”.

Felix

Giving: Giving gifts/Physical touch

He is defiantly a giver. He literally seems like he is so thoughtful and cares so much. Like we all know how his fellow members said he is great at gifts. Well duh. I feel like his gifts are not always big but like a small food or drink he brings because he knows you always love it, a flower he saw in the front of a flower shop he thought was pretty. Something you said you needed (or you didn’t say) but he knows you do need it because he just pays that much attention. A pendant necklace. A ring. A small ice-cream because the day is hot so why not. A donut that had flower sprinkles because you like to post aesthetic foods and so on. You name it. They would not be obnoxious, but it would sure show how much you are occupying his thoughts.

We also always know how he is attached to the hip to the people he is close to and he loves skinship. He said he loves back hugs, hugs, kisses he wants it all:)) So he gives plenty of cuddles for sure. You can never escape the octupus arms as you go to sleep each night, so might as well set up the air conditioning in your house as it’s about to get warm but affection and love above all, right? :)))))))

Receiving: Words of affirmation/Physical touch

I think he thrives if you return his little ministrations of affection. Does it matter? A hug, a kiss, holding him, a little massage, hand size comparison, throwing yourself on top of him on the couch or the bed at the end of the day. He LOVES it. You are also competing with Chan lol but no worries, he has plenty affections for all:))

Also I think he needs reassurance and a sense that people that are closest are proud of what he is doing(wipe your tears bitch). So I think acknowledging his hard work and the fact that he pulls through despite certain mental heath problems and telling him he does an amazing job and complementing his work would definitely mean a lot to him.

But give the boy your affection, A VerY tOucHy BoI. It makes his heart swell with joy knowing you pull him close and feel so much love for him that you don’t hold back from giving. Be an octopus with him tambien😊

Seungmin

Giving: Acts of service

Another one for acts of service. Our smol good boi which somehow does not seem smol at all because he exudes maturity and rationality lmao.

He would be such a servant if he loves you. AND YOU WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE at first. Like I feel like he does stuff in a way similar to Minho where he makes sure your life is as easy as can be. Like puts your shoes out of the way, checks the weather so you don’t leave dressed inappropriately (forces you to take the puffier jacket despite it not going with your outfit, because “do you want to catch a cold, hm?”), gives you an umbrella. Fixes a random necklace which you broke by accident because he knows it will sit there for like 3 years if it’s in your care, and you like the necklace 😊. Makes sure you eat something healthy too(would definitely bring you washed and cut-up fruits after going out to eat at mcdonalds). And he for sure does not expect you to really notice, but if you do he is getting flustered and runs out the room with a big smile😊 what a baby tm.

Receiving: Acts pf service

I feel like he would appreciate most if you also took time out of your day to ease his life too. I feel like he would feel such relief and happiness and his heart would swell with affection and appreciation if you took on one of his (no matter how insignificant) tasks. Like he would be in a rush to leave and you woke up earlier before work to make him a coffee. Or when he comes home late you already put his clothes on the bed and prepared a bath. Or getting up and asking for extra napkins if he was not given any, or simply asking how can you make his day better. I feel like being helpful and listening and paying close attention to him would be what makes him happiest.

I.N./Jeongin:

Giving: Quality time/Gifts

He gets awkward when he tries to express feelings with words and is def not the most fond of skinship. However, I think if you were close he would be an amazing listener and sit with you and you could both share and grow together so much. He would give you the feeling he is ready to listen and be with you if you need him. 

That and also I feel like when you are out and about it makes him feel good to know he can buy you things you can enjoy, and you are appreciative of them and he has that power to brighten your day and be a mature adult by buying you things, despite not really needing them sometimes.

Receiving: Quality time/Words

You know how he struggled a bit with the dancing at first and you know how the other members say that he does nothing when someone criticizes him, he just goes out of his way to fix his “mistakes”? And also in Vlive when he said he doesn’t like to watch his own fancams because all he sees are his mistakes? My baby seems to have a bit (quite some) of an imposter syndrome and since he is young and everyone teases him, although with love, I feel like it gets a bit uncomfortable and tough. He seems he just wants to keep up, and be the best at what he does but it gets tough when you have to catch up with people who have been doing the thing for many more years than you and you are struggling with your feelings and figuring things out as you grow within a demanding contract. So I think someone to listen to his worries and give him undivided attention without judgement and put in their input without being intrusive would be the most amazing thing to him. That, along with compliments and acknowledgement of his efforts, telling him that he is doing GOOD and you are proud (although he might think that you are just saying it, since he seems to only see ways he needs to improve) would be good at raising his self esteem and encourage him to continue with his hard efforts.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids au #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #jeongin #love langauges

[mikyouknow]

Please! Rewatch the quiz! I need something to remind me that that actually happened.

I still vividly remember that day. Going out on a chill bike ride with my two best friends for the first time in months. Sitting in the cool grass. Having a picknick. Not too hot out, nice weather. AND THEN I GET HOME TO THE ABSOLUTEL SHITSHOW THAT HAPPENED THAT DAY! Because what the HELL even was that, I still haven't processed anything. My mind keeps erasing that memory until some days the it just hits me square in the face and knocks me out 😀

So yeah! I would love it if you talked more about it, might help to cope a bit xD

Okay anon you motivated me, you were my Final push, I’m Doing it ! 🗣

Also I love that story tho you really have a Vivid memory connected to this whole thing and I’m living for it 😂 you were just having a nice day and then Boom, all this mess 💀

But aight so I’m Watching it rn and will be taking notes Live as I watch Here we go:

My first thoughts is, when Dream decides to do the quiz, he seems so like, confident? And then as soon as he reads the description, his voice falters at ‘and now things are changing’ and I’m Dead 💀 his confidence from two seconds prior in that moment goes like 📉 then cue flustered laugh lmao

“Do you ever catch yourself staring at your bff?” Dream’s flustered laugh and being all like “these questions are gonna be so weird” uhhhhh dude what are you expecting you’re taking a are you in love with your best friend quiz 💀

HES SO DEFENSIVE ON THIS ONE LIKE- he keeps wanting to make excuses aww drema aww 😭 it’s okay !! George is pretty we Understand you staring king 😌

Like legit that’s the first question and he’s already so flustered and- MY GOD GEORGE HASNT SAID A THING I JUST REALIZED WAIT HOLD ON I NEED TO GO BACK-

Two scoffs. That’s it 🧍‍♀️

GEORGE JSJWNSOWNEEJEN HES NOT SAYING ANYTHING IM DYING WHAT

Even when Dream first goes ‘aight imma take the am I in love w my best friend test’ George is SILENT 💀

Listen- listen, I’m having a moment over this cause I don’t remember him being silent from the start I thought it was like a slow descent into him just going silent eventually, BUT NO he’s just Silent from the moment the quiz is brought up 💀 but gives like a slight scoff when Dream’s voice wavered at “changing” like he’s very much Listening, just being So silent.

I just can’t wrap my head around how he doesn’t answer any of Dream’s comments, Dream keeps being like ‘right? Like that’s normal, right? Like that’s not weird. Right?’ And George is just SILENT 💀

“Do you get jealous if he or she has a bf or gf” LMAO THIS QUESTION MY BELOVED

His answer is so weird I will die on this hill.

ALSO GEORGE S P E A K S for the first time in the quiz 😭🗣 but not much, he says ‘but’, cause, yk, they both know he do get jealous so.

Which, again. Weird as hell. Imma say it, I’ve never felt jealous of my best friend getting a partner like what ???? W h a t

But ofc when they’re so clingy on each other, like a partner would take the others place because they pretty much have each other in that spot already, so it makes sense huh

And that’s not platonic btw I wanna make that clear LMAO

I think the points of which George laughs are interesting. And there’s something interesting to his laugh too. I don’t see his face lighting up with it, if that makes sense. It’s like a, I wouldn’t say ‘nervous’ laugh but, I struggle to find a better word for it 🤔

AYO MY MANS DREAM SAYS I DONT KNOW TO IF HE GETS BUTTERFLIES FROM GEORGE I- 💀

THATS NOT AN I DONT KNOW QUESTION KING

EITHER YOU DO OR YOU DONT AND YOU KNOW IF YOU DO OR DONT LIKE W H A T

I have to sit with this one for a second like . What ? 🧍‍♀️

Butterflies.

I’ve never. In my life. Like.

That’s not- you can’t say you don’t know- THAT MEANS LIKE-

Dear lord.

Aight I’m moving on (not actually imma be awake thinking about this later. Not by choice, absolutely not. This just won’t leave my brain unfortunately.)

Hang on. George says something here when Dream says ‘I have no idea’ but I can’t tell what he’s saying ? Like he mumbles something whilst Dream starts talking at the same time and I can’t make it out and I wanna know what he says 💀🗣

I Think he says ‘what do you mean you have no idea?’ Which like, YEAH, you Should question him on that king 🧍‍♀️ but it’s interesting how quiet he is, like he barely pushes the question, and this is like the second ?? Time he’s spoken so far. 🧍‍♀️

Also Listen to how flustered Dream sounds my god💀

This quiz never should’ve happened what’s Wrong with him like is he this blind ?? Did he Really think taking this quiz was gonna end well ?? 💀

“TecHniCally🥴”

“My future is your future”

I feel like we’ve talked abt these LMAO such Romantic phrasing my god

Again him going ‘right?’ And George is Dead Silent 💀

It’s interesting, like I’ve reached the ‘dreams’ question now, and it’s hitting now and throughout this quiz how, Dream is Loudly deflective, but George is silently deflective. If that makes sense? Like he’s choosing not to speak so his words can’t be thrown back at him cause he Knows if he speaks it’ll be obvious. Whilst Dream over explains and fucks himself over p much lmao. They’re both just a mess around this subject 💀

“How would You be in my dream” is such a funny sentence from George LMAO he’s so defensive 💀 like even I have had dreams abt Dream, like you’re his Best Friend, ofc you have dreams abt him my guy 💀 deflecting it is so weird. So Weird

“I’ve never hugged you” Sad hours 😔

It’s interesting here. Cause they speak abt the whole ‘do you go out of your way for this person’ and Dream is stuck on if he should say ‘more than anyone else I know’ or not. Which, there’s ofc observations to be had here as well.

But ! What I found interesting here was how George goes onto say ‘you made me pay you’ when Dream says he edited his video for him. And how George keeps the ‘lie’ going for a very short bit before laughing slightly, by god he sounds so.. different? Like when he usually makes little lies to troll or stuff like that, he’s much more extra and keeps the bit going and- idk how to explain it but the tone of his voice is usually way different. Here he seems to, idk, struggle to keep that up. His laugh is also just like, somewhat toneless?

LMAO The MOMENT Dream got the question ‘what do you think abt their laugh’ George’s laugh Stops. 💀

“Do you ever think abt what it would be like to Kiss your best friend?”

THE SILENCE

Also,

how Dream read ‘kiss’ 🤝 how Dream read ‘changing’

Some words hit this man different huh LMAO

“Why did that take you so long” on the kiss question, CALL HIM OUT GEORGE 🗣

HRKEJEKEEJEKJEEIEJ HOW ARE THOSE- SORRY WHAT DREAM ??

“HOW ARE THOSE THE ONLY OPTIONS” ???

God, for real, I wish Dream would get to sit down with someone one day who just Listened to him speak and allowed him to slip up and just sound so in love with George like give himself away simply because nobody is saying how weird he’s-

Hold on.

Wait. A minute.

George.

George is doing that LMAOOOO

Him sitting there silently and not responding to all his small questions abt what he Should answer and such, he’s so smart🧍‍♀️

AIGHT MOVING ON

George’s laugh keeps sounding very, like, strange😅

Anyways the way Dream Had to have a ‘yes’ answer to the kiss one will forever keep me up at night. Now along with the butterflies one🧍‍♀️

I rly wonder what options it is Dream is looking for when he says ‘none of these options’ so often. What is it you wanna say king ?

WHY IS THE BUTTERFLIES QUESTION TWICE AND WHY IS HIS ANSWER NOW DIFFERENT LMAO - drema it’s okay it’s Safe Space 🗣 I feel like he probably saw chat responding to his first answer and realized ‘oop, that’s not platonic’ and changed his answer LMAO 💀 he’s- Ahh hard to find the right words for my Thoughts here, but he’s doing that thing where he looks for others what is ‘normal’ instead of seeing what he feels, cause what He feels is, uh, well we all know what results he got at the end there,,

I mean the kiss question is all u need really. The butterflies one puts icing on the whole cake.

“Do you compare this person to others you’ve dated? Noo...” AIGHT AND THERE WE HAVE THE CHERRY ON TOP OF THE WHOLE THING

This was the one of the Most sus ones imo from when I first watched it. It had my head spin, head in hands for Days.

What do you MEAN you compare him to others you’ve dated? Why does he tell George to shut up, why do they both Know there’s a story there- I have so many questions on this and- this isn’t platonic 💀😭 AT ALL - and there’s no excuse or explanations for this one, they just Move On 💀

The Speed at which they move on 💀

And then George goes So silent 🧍‍♀️

Dream is cruising through the questions and George is so silent now. He was Stunned into silence from that shut up LMAO

I like how Dream picked ‘absolutely’ on being able to tell George everything :’)

So.

Why does George not say anything on the ‘do you think your best friend is in love with you’ question? No joke, no protest, no- no nothing?

That leaves us to fill in the blanks king, just saying🧍‍♀️

Why does Dream sound sarcastic when he says it’s a tough question LMAO

“I have no idea” aight good answer ig LMAO let’s Pretend

George’s silence is for real very sus there. Very. 🥴

Dream putting ‘no’ on thinking he’s in love, is Very funny and shows just how blind he is to himself.

He rly put ‘I don’t know’ for the butterflies one and found the nearest ‘yes’ option for the kiss one and then still put ‘no’ at the end - he’s a lost cause and owns no mirrors I see how it is. (/j btw lmao I have hope in drema ofc, he too can become more self aware one day<3)

“You are a little in love with your best friend” cue both of them laughing in just the weirdest ways. George just sounds absolutely toneless like, I don’t think he’s even smiling with that laugh, gaze absolutely dazed at what he’s being witness to, not even knowing what to do with himself in that moment. And Dream’s laugh is also just, weird?

“You don’t wanna ruin it, Dream.” Followed by Dream’s immediate, “oh what? It says-“ like immediately moving on lmao 💀 that “oh what?” Sounded like “oh what’s that there oh that’s rly weird wow let’s move on from what you just said ahem wow really weird thing over there” LMAO

“There’s a two percent chance there” LMAO

OH NO THE SILENCE WHAT

I THOUGHT I ACCIDENTALLY PAUSED THE VIDEO BUT THE SILENCE IS SO LONG AND SO LOUD

Then Dream going onto pretending like he’s gonna do another test As If he’s not been planning his escape excuse from the very moment he got those test results LMAO

And the silent pauses are taking me out 💀

‘I think we’re done’ HOW COULD HE LEAVE AT THAT POINT 💀💀💀

“COOL PODCAST” IM DEAD ON THE FLOOR

“WHY ARE YOU SO NOSY” DREAM I- WHY U SO DEFENSIVE GEORGE ASKING WHERE YOU’RE GOING IS A NORMAL THING TO ASK 💀YOU’RE THE ONE WHO’S SUDDENLY LEAVING

NOT DREAM AWKWARDLY SINGING THE WIZARD OF OZ-

HE SOUNDS SO WEIRD-

The tone of his voice is so off my guy is so ready to leave and sit and stare at a wall whilst looping heatwaves for five hours 💀

:((((( drema my beloved :((((( it’s okay to be in love !!

Not him leaving- he full on ignored George’s ‘where are you going?’

He’s not going anywhere istg the moment he left that discord he put his head in his hands and just Stared 💀

Poor George 🥺

#aight those were my thoughts omg this got so long LMAO #I legit thought I’d have barely any notes going into this #and then I ended up having to pause every five seconds cause there was just So Much to unpack 🥴😭 #so Many Thoughts #so anyways sry anon that this took me a moment lmaoo #but here’s just a whole analysis on the are u in love w your best friend quiz #I never did do one like a lot of others did after that stream #I needed five business days to process #that turned into months apparently LMAO #but now here they are: My Thoughts #long post #that read me option has never been more needed LMAO #dnf observer answers ask #dnf tings and rambles #dreamnotfound #my analysis #edit: I was gonna post this a few days ago but Stuff happened so am posting it now finally🗣