#I want to reach out to try to mend things but I’m scared she just hates me now and I’m scared that I was right back then | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

losfacedevil · 1 year ago

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Change // SFK (Pt9)

a/n~ Last weeks update was a bit heart wrenching. Was Sammy able to deal with the heartbreak he knew she felt? Was he able to get her out of her slump? CATCH UP ON THE FARMERS MARKET HERE!

“I literally don’t know what to do. You should have seen her face, I’ve never seen her look so scared before.” Sam lounged across the small two person seater couch in his brothers living room.

Jake stood at the kitchen table, mixing cocktails for the boys to have with their dinner as he pondered everything Sam had confided in him. They had all known about Sophia — she was all Sam talked about for weeks, but no one knew of her broken past other than Sam. Jake knew the information Sam had shared was confidential and was proud to be the brother he was confident sharing it with.

“That’s rough, trying to heal someone you’re not responsible for breaking is such a huge task to take on. Are you sure you want to do that?” Jake asked, knowing full well what his brother was about to take on. Sam shrugged, pushing himself up off of the couch and made his way into the kitchen.

“Am I sure? Not really. Is it a scary thought to try and mend a heart I didn’t break? Absolutely. But there’s something about her drawing us together and honestly I’m gonna try like hell to bring her back to the girl she once was.” Jake nodded, sliding the drink in his hand across the table to Sam.

“Hypothetically speaking when would you see her again?” Jake asked, his eyes trained on Sam’s face.

“Hypothetically she hasn’t missed a market day since we met so if she’s the creature of habit I think she is I’ll see her Saturday.” His older brother nodded and reached up to run his hand along his chin.

“I know you said she doesn’t typically hang more than a few minutes but see if she wouldn’t stay the day with you. Have her help you drive your sales, something to keep her mind off of things.” Sam nodded and a soft smile caressed his lips.

“That could actually work. I knew we kept you around for something!” Jakes jaw dropped and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re not funny.”

~*~*~

“Why are you so nervous?” Danny couldn’t help but notice the nervous tick of Sam’s hands as he began loading up another milk crate with mason jars. The younger boy shrugged his shoulders gently, sliding the full milk crate across the counter and bent at the waist to grab the basket off of the floor.

“I don’t know if Sophia is gonna come by or not. I haven’t heard from her all week.” He mumbled, carefully placing everything he had made specifically for her into her basket. Confusion kissed Danny’s features as he turned to face Sam.

“Wait why? What did you do?” Danny quipped, arms crossed over his chest and he shot a death glare at Sam. The younger boy held his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t do anything. Something happened last week and she shut down on me. I’ve tried reaching out but she either doesn’t answer my call or leaves my texts on read.” Sam shrugged his shoulders, his heart aching in his chest for the girl he knew cowered behind that of her trauma.

“But she’s reading the messages? I’d take that as somewhat of a good sign. I wouldn’t worry too much. Something bad happened, right? She needs time to process her emotions and what happened before she’ll be your Sophia again.”

Sam couldn’t help the sigh that slipped past his nose. His eyes trained on the monarch butterfly that fluttered around just beyond the window as his mind reeled. Danny watched on as the younger boy ran through his emotions, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and turned his attention back to the task at hand.

“You have to understand you can’t always be the knight in shining armor that protects her from her predators, Sam. Things are gonna come up, people are gonna rear their ugly heads and you’re gonna have to allow her to work through it alone.” Danny clapped his hand down on Sam’s shoulder, gently shaking the boy lovingly.

“I know, but I can try like hell, can’t I, Rose?” Sal cooed, bending down to love on the pup sleeping near his feet.

~*~*~

Sophia paced the length of her living room, tears streaming down her cheeks as she thought about not going to the market. She wasn’t sure she could face him after a week of silence; fully unsure if he would still accept her for her or if he would have already written her off.

His messages had stopped coming a few days prior. Something she saw as him losing faith in her and in what they had. She didn’t understand what having someone willingly give her space to work things out felt like. She pulled his contact up in her phone, finger hovering over the call command as her mind raced, thoughts of losing Sam something she couldn’t mentally cope with.

“He cares you nitwit, you know he does.” She mumbled, tossing her phone onto the couch before collapsing to her knees on the ground. A sob ripped from her chest as the scene in the thrift store played through her mind once again. How mad her ex had looked, how Sam had jumped into protective mode and just how sad his facial expression had become when he realized he couldn’t do anything for her.

“Just go, wallowing in your pity isn’t going to change anything.” She mumbled, pushing herself to her full height. A sigh slipped past her lips as she slid her feet into her shoes and picked up her phone to find a message from Sam.

Samuel <3

Thinking of you, sweets. Hope to see you soon!

She couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes as she snatched her keys up off of the table sat beside her front door. The cool air kissed her skin as she stepped outside for the first time in days; her eyes landing on what looked like a day old vase of roses sat on her doorstep.

She cocked her head to the side, looking around to see if there was anyone nearby before stepping forward and sitting on the top step. She reached out and touched the rose petals gingerly, fearful they were going to fall when her eyes landed on the card.

‘I’ll be here when you’re ready. - Sammy’

Her chest heaved as she pulled in a deep breath and gently scooped up the vase in her hands.

~*~*~

“There’s just a lot and it’s not my business to tell but just remember if she does stop by to not be a knuckle head.” Sam chuckled, rearranging the baskets that sat on the table in front of him. It was quickly approaching mid-day and he had sold through more than half of his stock for the day.

“And it has to do with whoever you guys ran into? She didn’t disclose who it was?” Danny questioned, curiosity getting the best of him. Sam shook his head lightly, a shrug of his shoulders punctuating the end of the conversation as his eyes landed on her.

“Yeah I really don’t know. I just know that it wasn’t good and turned a good day into a shit one.” Sam mumbled as he turned his attention to her.

“Hi boys.” She kept her voice low, almost so soft it couldn’t be heard over the hustle and bustle of the market.

Sam kept his eyes trained on her, the way her shoulders slumped, the dark circles under her eyes, and the way the corners of her lips tugged downwards into a frown. He side stepped around the table and opened his arms in her direction. A soft smile tugged on her lips as she took a step forward and wrapped herself around him; burying her face into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. He swayed her gently, reaching up to thread his fingers through her hair.

He let his hand slide down the back of her head and around her neck until he could curl his fingers underneath her chin and tilted her head back gently. Tears pooled in her eyes as she locked eyes with him, the soft smile of relief never leaving her lips. Sam leaned forward slightly, capturing her lips with his in a short and sweet peck.

“Well excuse me! You and her? And what?! KISSES?! When were you gonna tell me? Hmmm?!” Danny quipped, making his way over to them as they broke from each others embrace.

Sophia couldn’t help the belly laugh that escaped her as she turned on her heel and smacked Danny’s arm. She grabbed his hoodie pocket, pulling him closer to her before gently wrapping her arms around him. Danny’s eyes grew wide and he looked at Sam who shrugged his shoulders and mimicked that of wrapping his arms around someone.

“It’s good to see you, Soph.” Danny mumbled, wrapping his arms as tightly as he could around her shoulders; eliciting a suffocated sounding giggle from her.

“I thought Sammy told you already! I figured you’d know all about me and all about us by now.” She giggled, turning on the charm Sam knew was hiding the broken heart in her chest. Danny chuckled, resting his cheek against the crown of her head, following her cues.

“Sammy probably doesn’t tell me as much as you think he does. Hell I didn’t even know he came home the night he went to see you. I thought he forgot where he lived.” She giggled softly, pulling away from Danny.

“No he left me because he didn’t want you to be upset, or at least that’s the story he fed me.” She shrugged. Her eyes began wandering along the line of booths and lit up slightly as they landed on one manned by a young girl.

“I’ll be back.” She mumbled, holding up a finger towards the boys as she took off at a jog down the path.

“What was that about?” Danny asked, nodding in Sophia’s direction.

“She’s struggling, there was a lot of lies in her last relationship. I mean I did tell her I had to leave so you wouldn’t lose your mind that I was out with your car but I’m sure in her past relationship that meant he was somewhere else with someone else. There’s still a lot of trust to earn.” Sam shrugged, knowing full well he was in it for the long haul.

Sophia glanced up from the young girl she was speaking with and locked eyes with Sammy, a quick movement of her hand beckoning him towards her. Sam drove his finger into his chest, cocking his head to the side as she nodded.

“Go be lovebirds, I’ll hold this down today. I don’t want to see you back here, got it?” Danny chuckled, placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders and gave the boy a gentle push.

Sam couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he made his way over to her. Shoving his hands in his pockets as he sidled up next to her. Sophia quickly finished her conversation, slipping a new beaded bracelet onto her wrist as she bid her farewells to the young girl.

She reached up and looped her arm through Sam’s, resting her other hand against his arm as she nodded her head in the direction of the exit. Sam leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to her temple as they maneuvered their way through the small crowds.

“Will Danny have your head if you take off? This is the last place I really want to be but… I…” her voice trailed off as she stopped in her tracks, collecting her thoughts.

“I love Danny, I do but, I just… I just want to hang with you today. I know it’s selfish and it’s okay if you don’t want to.” Sam reached up and placed a finger against her lips, silencing the ramble she was on.

“It’s cool, we can take off if you want to I just have to give Danny the keys.” A relieved smile spread across her face as she unraveled herself from him.

“I’ll meet you at my car.”

Sophia turned on her heel and slowly made her way back to where she had parked, her mind reeling with everything she had been mulling over the past week. She knew that she had to tell Sam everything, after the show her ex had put on she felt like she had no choice. She had slept her week away, the sheer exhaustion the mental toll took on her ripping away her freedom.

It wasn’t long before Sam was jogging up to where she stood leaning up against her car. She toyed carefully with the array of beaded bracelets that adorned her wrist, her eyes trained on the one she had picked out for him.

“You left your basket again. Are you over all the sweet treats my magic hands make?” He joked, placing the basket down on the hood of her car. She smiled up at him sadly, the corners of her mouth not quite meeting her eyes. He followed her lead, reaching out to cup her face in his hands.

“What’s wrong, doll face? He hasn’t been bothering you, has he?” Sam asked, rubbing his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks. Sophia shook her head gently,

“No he hasn’t bothered me but, you bother me.” Sam’s face dropped, the corners of his mouth pulling down into a pout and he dropped his hands from her face before taking a step back.

“I… um… I’m sorry. I can go.” He mumbled, throwing his thumbs over his shoulder in the direction of his market booth. Sophia’s eyes grew wide and she took a step forward, wrapping her arms securely around his middle.

“No! No, no. That didn’t come out right. I…. Uh. Fuck.” She mumbled, resting her chin against his sternum. Sam reached up to rest his hands on her cheeks.

“You want to fuck? Wow, that’s a bit forward, don’t you think?” He joked, leaning down to rub his nose against hers.

“Samuel! I’m trying to be serious and you’re trying to get it in. Typical man. What I was trying to say was it bothers me that there’s so much about me you’re still in the dark about. And I so badly want to tell you it all but I don’t… I don’t want to scare you away. There I said it!” She nearly yelled, letting her eyes flutter shut and pulled in a chest heaving breath.

Sam moved his hands from her cheeks, reaching up to thread his fingers through her hair. He cupped the back of her head and leaned down to capture her lips with his. She melted into his touch, following his lead as his tongue poked out from between his lips and danced across her bottom lip. She happily obliged, allowing him access to slip his tongue softly against hers.

Her grip on him tightened, almost as if he would blow away on the wind if she let go. He chuckled lowly as she bit down on his bottom lip as she pulled away from him.

“Well that was um, unexpected.” She giggled, burying her face into the soft material of his hoodie. Sam pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, letting his eyes flutter shut as he realized it was now or never.

“Be my girl. Let me in that pretty little mind and be my girl.” He mumbled, poking his fingers into her ribcage to elicit the sweetest giggles.

“That’s a pretty big ask, Samuel. Are you sure that’s what you want?” She teased, resting her chin against his sternum once more.

“I know there’s a lot you’re still working through and that you’re still trying to love yourself as you are but, cmon make a guys day and be my girl. Please?” He pushed his bottom lip out in a pout, puppy dog eyes on full display as he leaned down and peppered kisses against her forehead.

“Before I agree I need you to know. There’s gonna be days where I don’t like you and I don’t like me and it’s nothing personal so if I snap or I shut down don’t take it personal, okay? There’s a long road ahead.” Sam nodded enthusiastically, fully understanding weeks like the one they just had may be the normal for a while.

“So is that a yes, my sweet girl?” Sam mumbled, peppering kisses all over her face. She nodded gently, turning her head just enough to capture his lips with hers in a sweet kiss.

TAGLIST: @gretasmokerising @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @puzzle-gvf @sunfl0wer-power @vanfleeter @aintthatapity @twistedmelodies @gvfpal @psychedelicsprinkles @miguelnation @gracev0609 @runwayblues @jordie-gvf-admin

#sam kiszka #sam kiskzka fluff #sam kiszka x oc #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfiction #greta van fleet

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officialcharactersimp · 3 years ago

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Mending & Amends

(Graduation Gift Part 4)

Summary: the fourth installment of my graduation gift series (can be found on my masterlist). This picks up literally seconds after the end of pt 3 with Natasha trying to find ways to make amends and get you to trust her again. No smut, but still not appropriate.

A/N: author’s note WC: 3k (holy heck)

CW: dark fic; mommy!nat; there is no porn, I repeat no porn; but there is mommy milk/breastfeeding; reader is injured; dubcon existence; 18+ only, do you hear me??

While you’re out, Natasha has time to tend to your injuries without you cowering and crying. Without all the guilt.

She picks your limp form up gently and brings you back out to the basement proper and lays you face-down on the bed-crib. She goes to get some medical supplies and cleans you up, then bandages the open bits and rubs some healing salve all over you. With only a few strikes having landed on your core, she’s satisfied with rubbing some of the salve there.

She gets you to drink some water from a bottle in your sleep, your natural instincts she’s been nurturing taking over. She checks your temperature, a solid 99, which isn’t too bad. She wipes the sweat and tear-tracks from your face, then brushes your hair out again. She lays down beside you and drapes an arm over your waist, burying her face into the back of your neck as she tries to think of what she’ll do when you wake up.

An idea forms slowly as she runs her hand along your waist. Yes, that will work. You might not like it at first, but it will work if she bears through it. She’s not sure how much of the fear and pain on your face she can handle, but she needs to.

She moves you off the bed to make it up nice, then sets you down gently, face down. Whenever you’re healed up you’ll be able to lay on your back, but right now that’s not possible. She ties your hands and feet to frame corners with plenty of slack—she wants you to be able to move.

Finally, she reluctantly removes your collar, biting her lip as she does so. It looked so precious on you, a symbol of the progress of your relationship. All gone now, thanks to her paranoia and overreaction. As much as she doesn’t want to remove it, it’s not right to keep it on if it speaks a lie.

Then she waits for you to come to. It shouldn’t be much longer now, maybe another half hour or so. She sits in the rocking chair in the corner, anxiously bouncing her leg. She needs to get herself under control before you wake. She knows her little baby needs for her to be the collected, caring, soothing mommy right now, and that you will for some time.

You mumble a little as you begin to stir, picking your head up a little. She takes a deep breath and smiles before going over and crouching down to look at your face while she gently tucks your hair back.

“Hey baby,” she says softly. “How’s my little sleepyhead feeling?” she asks. You whimper and inch away from her.

“D-don’ touch me,” you stammer.

“It’s okay baby, mommy isn’t gonna hurt you,” she says.

She sits down beside you. “I am so so sorry about what I did earlier. I was scared you were gonna try to leave me and get hurt. It’s a nasty drop from that window. But I didn’t take the time to think past my initial reaction or ask you, and that was wrong. I overreacted out of fear and anger without stopping to think, and I’m so sorry, little one. I never should have done that,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes. You turn your head to look up at her, eyes searching hers for any sign of ingenuity. You find only regret and sadness.

“You mean it?” you ask softly.

“Yes baby,” she says. “And mommy promises never to punish you without talking first or before taking some deep breaths, okay?” she says.

“Pinky promise?” you ask.

“Pinky promise,” she sticks out her pinky to hook with yours. She’s thrilled that you’re already starting to be a bit little again. As you move to interlock with her, you notice the restraints.

“Wait, what?” all traces of your headspace are gone as you jerk up to look around at your tied limbs. “What the hell?”

“Baby, it’s to keep you safe. See? They’re not tight or anything,” she tugs on all the loose rope.

“This is insane! All of this is insane!” you shout at her for the first time in weeks. It breaks her heart even more.

“I told you, mommy’s gonna fix what she did. Mommy’s gonna show you you can trust me again, gonna take care of you, of everything. Make it so this collar means something again,” she taps it on the bedside table, just out of your reach. You bury your face in your pillow and sob.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Mommy’s here. Mommy’s gonna make it all better,” she curls up beside you and puts an arm over you again. Despite how upset you are, you lean into it, wanting the physical comfort you associate with her.

“How’s your bottom?” she asks.

“Hurts,” you mumble.

“Do you think some Advil might help?” she asks. You nod and she gets up briefly to go get it. “Here you go, baby,” you tilt your head up and she puts the pills in, then grabs your bottle of water. You roll your eyes but suck on it to get the water to wash the pills down. You nod a thank you.

“Are you hungry?” she asks. You nod. “What do you want? I’ll even go drive through somewhere if that will help,” she says. You think for a moment.

“McDonalds?” you ask hopefully. She nods and smooths your hair back.

“McDonalds will be here soon,” she assures you. “Mommy has to go see a friend, too, so it works out. I’ll be back in half an hour or so, okay?” she says. You nod.

She kisses your head, which you recoil from, and leaves. You’re left alone to lay face-down on the crib-bed, restrained and in pain, until she returns. It’s silent. It’s lonely. You’ve grown used to either having Natasha or the sounds of the TV running since you came down here.

You think back to this morning. Everything was so different. You honestly trusted her this morning, even if it wasn’t the strongest trust. But this afternoon reminded you that she was an unstable, dangerous, paranoid lunatic. And it scared you.

Truth be told, you’ve grown to like being “little,” as Natasha calls it, letting yourself stop thinking too much and trust your mommy—Natasha, you correct yourself—to take care of you. You liked playing with her and cuddling. And when she touched you, it felt so good. So much better than when you had touched yourself. You felt loved and cared for in some twisted way.

But that was all in the past, now. You’d been doing so well, both of you, and now this. How does she expect you to trust her again? You’re not sure. You turn your head and close your eyes.

—

“You’re sure this will work, Wan?” Natasha asks her friend anxiously as she pulls her shirt back on. The red glow around her is fading. Her bra feels painfully tight and she winces.

“I’m positive. It worked for me, and especially given that you told me it’s happened before with those meds. If not tonight, by tomorrow for sure. And here’s these,” she hands Natasha a package. “They’ll be much more comfortable.”

“Thanks, Wanda. I don’t know what I’d do without you, in all honesty,” she says. Wanda smiles and hugs her.

“I could say the same to you,” she smiles. “Go on, get back to your little one,” she shoos her playfully. Natasha waves and leaves, then drives by McDonalds as promised. She’s back in a little over half an hour to see you dozing. It warms her heart to see her precious baby sleeping.

“Come on, little one, mommy brought your food,” she says, shaking you gently. You open your eyes and push yourself up off of the bed some. “Let’s get you comfy,” she helps you find a position that isn’t too uncomfortable for your aching rear, then hands you your food. “What do we say?” she asks.

“Thank you,” you say with a french fry in your mouth. She smiles. The mommy will come back later. She won’t push it for tonight.

“Do you wanna watch some cartoons?” she asks. They always engross you and help you into your littlespace. You nod and she flicks through the TV until she finds one she knows you like.

You both eat in relative silence, watching the TV. At least you’re not trying to cower anymore. That’s good, right? Progress? She hopes so.

“I’m gonna use the potty,” she tells you, then gets up. You don’t notice her bring the package with her as does.

When she returns, you notice something different about her, but you can’t tell what. It’s a small difference, then. Maybe she just fixed her hair. She’s smiling though.

You’re finished with your food soon enough, and the show ends shortly after.

“Let’s get you in the bath now baby, hm?” she suggests. You feel gross anyways, so you nod. She unties you and scoops you up in her arms.

“Let me down!” you squirm.

“Hush now, like mommy told you, I’m gonna take care of everything. Gonna show you you can trust me again,” she says. You squirm all the way to the bathroom anyways. She sets you down on the toilet facing the wall, almost straddling it.

“Huh?” you ask.

“It’s less pressure on your little bottom,” she explains. You nod and use the toilet while she gets the tub ready, but when you go to get some toilet paper, Natasha beats you to it. “I’ve got it, baby,” she says, wiping your tender area gently. You wince and try to get away from her.

“Stop it, I’m not a baby!” you try to grab her hand and move it, but she stays still, unmoving.

“Come on, little one. I know you’re in there. I know you want to let mommy take care of you,” she says. You shake your head. “Baby, this is about me proving to you that you can trust me to take care of you,” her voice is even. “I want you to choose to let me prove it to you. That’s why I haven’t given you any of the medicine I used to. But that doesn’t mean I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you to believe how much I care about you again,” she says.

“But—“ you don’t know what you were planning on saying. “But I wanna do it myself. I can do it myself,” your voice is quiet as you lose your grip on her wrist, barely audible.

“That’s the thing, precious,” she steps closer to you, finishing her task and then using her other hand to pet your head. “I know you can do it. But you don’t have to. That’s why I’m here,” she says. You groan and lean forward on the toilet tank. “Come on, you’ll feel better when you’re clean,” she picks you up and sets you in the tub, then flushes the toilet.

You sigh and let her bathe you. Your body is too sore from getting dragged and caned to wash yourself that effectively anyways. When she gets to your most sensitive areas though, you squirm away from her and reach for the soap.

“It’s too sore. I wanna wash it myself,” you say quietly.

“I’m gonna be so careful, you won’t even notice,” she gently moved your hand away and got the soap again. Tears brimmed in your eyes and your bottom lip started to form a pout. “No, baby, don’t cry,” she gasps, petting your cheek. “Tell mommy what’s going on,” she says.

“I’m scared,” you say. “I don’t want you to touch it because you hurt me,” you say. Her heart breaks again.

“Okay, sweetie, how about this: we can do it together,” she takes your hand and puts it over hers, then begins to wash you gentler than ever. Your breathing hitches and your heart kicks up, but it’s over before it can go into full-blown panic.

“All done. You did such a good job, little one,” she praises you. “Ready to get out, or do you want to play in the water some?” she asks.

“Ready to get out,” you say. She picks you up out of the bath and dries you off with a soft towel before taking you out to the bed. She pulls on a soft shirt, leaving your bottom half uncovered so as not to irritate it. She changes into the spare pjs she keeps down here and crawls into bed beside you. You don’t welcome or recoil from her touch, which she’ll take as progress.

Her chest is still dully aching, but she knows she’s pushed you far enough for tonight. Maybe tomorrow she’ll be able to coax you into it.

—

When day comes again, Natasha is treating you the way she did when she first brought you down here, only with gentleness and tenderness where there was hardness and strictness before. The lack of the sedative drugs in your system makes it more difficult, but she’s able to maneuver your squirming form through the daily ritual of getting up, using the toilet, getting dressed, brushing your hair and teeth, and finally breakfast. Whenever she can, she has you laying on your stomach on the bed, and this is one thing you don’t protest.

You notice her shifting in discomfort the whole morning though, and despite how much you dislike her at the moment, you hate to see her in pain. You work up the courage to ask after a while of watching cartoons.

“Are you hurt?” you ask.

“I… well, I have a side effect from a treatment I had done that’s causing me discomfort,” she admits.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “That sucks.”

“There’s a way you can help me,” she says, sounding more timid than you’ve heard her maybe ever before.

“What is it?” you ask. To your confusion, she started to unbutton her shirt, and then she unclips her bra, but from the top? What?

“Huh?” you blurt out.

“I’m lactating,” she says simply, squeezing her nipple a little, causing a drop of what can only be breast milk to come of it.

“I—what do you want me to do about it?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“They hurt because they’re too full,” she explains. “And it would be really helpful if you would, well… empty them. I don’t have a breast pump, of course,” she says.

“Wait, like, you want me to—to drink your milk?” you’re turning bright red. Even after everything you’ve done with her, you’re almost unbearably embarrassed.

“Yes, baby, it would really help me, plus I think that you’ll like it. And it could help us…feel closer,” she chooses her words carefully, gauging your reaction.

“It’s kinda weirding me out,” you say honestly.

“Just try it, please, baby? It’ll help me feel so much better. And I promise, if you hate it after a little while then I’ll get a pump,” she crosses her fingers behind her back.

“I… okay,” you say. This whole situation is so absurd you can hardly bother trying to resist it. She smiles and adjusts the both of you to where you can reach her breast.

It’s not like you haven’t had her tits in your mouth before. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous right now. Natasha gently puts a hand on the back of your head and pushes you a little closer. You wrap your mouth around her nipple hesitantly, unsure of what to do.

“It’s like your bottle, sweetheart,” she senses your confusion. You tentatively begin sucking, and you’re surprised by the flow of milk into your mouth. You jerk back, but Natasha keeps your head in place, groaning in relief.

When the initial shock wears off, you realize she was right—you do like it. It’s warm and sweet, and the sucking action soothes you. You relax a little.

“That’s a good baby for mommy,” Natasha says gently, stroking your head with her thumb on the hand supporting you. “Do you like mommy’s milkies?” she asks. You nod, slipping into littlespace quickly as you drink from her. “Is it yummy?” she asks out of her own curiosity. You nod, not wanting to stop to answer. She chuckles. “It’s all yours, little one.”

She moves you to her other breast when you’ve finished, looking down and noticing that her other one is indeed smaller, and it certainly feels better now. You clutch at her gently to get a good angle, and her heart swells. She’s so glad this worked, but then again, Wanda’s advice has yet to fail her, so she shouldn’t be surprised.

When you finish, your eyelids are droopy and you nuzzle into her willingly, a rarity even before she fucked everything up. She pets you gently.

“Sleepy, little one?” she asks you softly. You nod. “Want a nap?” she asks. You nod again. Between your body being exhausted already and the soothing effects of her milk, she’s not surprised you’re already tired even though you’ve only been awake for a few hours. “Let mommy check your bottom, okay?” she turns you on your tummy. You’re healing nicely. “Do you want a blankie? I think it won’t hurt,” she says. You nod and she covers you with a blanket.

“Mommy stay,” you say when she gets up. And how is she supposed to argue with that? The answer is, she isn’t, so after she turns the lights off, he curls up next to you and holds you close.

“Mommy’s here, little one,” she assures you, finding your favorite stuffie and handing it to you. “Mommy will always be here, don’t you worry.”

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yn-ymn-yln · 3 years ago

Text

A Soft Place to Land

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: Steve is sad and overreacts, reader helps him feel better, the Harrington’s are shitty parents. (I have no idea how to summarize this, I’m sorry)

Warning: Shitty parents

Word count: 1110

*One day I’ll write something that’s not hurt/comfort... but that day is not today*

Steve’s day had been horrid at best. From waking up late, to listening to Keith berate him like a child in a store full of his peers. Every single detail about the last twelve hours was laced with the negative energy he had carried with him like a second skin. And even now, laying on the bed he owned, in the apartment he rented, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything falling on his shoulders.

Was rent due this week or next?

Had he closed the store properly?

If Keith fired him, where the hell would he go?

Tears well in Steve’s tired eyes, his frustration bubbling up and attempting to escape through any means necessary. The realization about said fact only seems to make his agitation grow, as he roughly rubs at the sockets to stem the flow of moisture.

Men weren’t allowed to cry. Or at least that’s what his father told him.

Waiting by the crack in the door is Y/n, watching as her boyfriend cycles through his undeniable self-doubt. Seeing him fight back against his body’s natural reaction to the overflow of emotion makes her heart hurt. Not for the first time she finds herself wishing Steve’s parents would fall off the face of the earth.

Delicately she enters their shared space, her hands immediately running through the overwhelmed boy’s hair when she’s within reach of him.

“It’s okay to be upset.” He looks up at her words, his eyes burning less with the threat of tears and more with shame at the thought of her seeming him like this.

“Can you please leave me alone?” The harsh delivery of his words causes her to step away from him, hiding the disappointment that clearly wanted to be seen on her face. She didn’t want to leave, but sticking around would only further agitate the boy before her. So, she retreats, backing out the way she had come.

“Of course, I’ll just… go make dinner.” Her words are quiet and clipped, cutting Steve to his core. She was only trying to help, and he had to push her as far from him as possible.

Just like his parents.

He doesn’t find the strength to ask her to stay until she’s vacant from the room, the lingering smell of her shampoo the only evidence she had been there at all. He listens to the calming rhythm of her moving around their kitchen. The fridge door shutting softly, the telltale sigh she releases when tying her hair back. The corners of his mouth lift involuntarily as he pictures the girl he loves bustling around, her actions trying to distract her mind from the thoughts racing there. His limbs tingle with the need to move, the instinct to mend the imperceptible rift he’s created between them overwhelming him, yet he stays planted in his position, on their bed, listening.

Did she need space?

Would she push him away, just like he did to her?

Would he be able to handle it if she did?

Space, he deduced, never mended broken things. The allure to leave disagreements as they were in hopes of settling anger only seemed to turn anger into regret. And regret, was a toxin that could end dedicated relationships, if left to fester. The mere thought of watching Y/n walk out the door has Steve swiftly making his way towards the kitchen, planning an apology with each step he takes.

He watches from the entry way, as she meticulously stirs whatever it is she had decided to cook, her eyes unwavering from the wall in front of her. He approaches her back with careful caution, the last thing he wanted to do was scare her, though she’s unaware of his presence until she feels his arm sliding around her waist tentatively.

“I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he wants this conversation to start with, refusing to let his mistreatment, no matter how small, slide under the rug. Even if it meant facing the consequences. She leans into him as another soft sigh escapes her, his head ducking into the crook of her neck.

“I know, and I’m not mad.”

“You should be.”

“But I don’t have to be. I know what your parents were like, I know the damage they’ve done, So, I’m choosing not to be mad because your confused, and maybe even scared. It doesn’t do either of us any good.” They remain intertwined like this for a moment, the stillness of the world around them soothing all of the tiny pin pricks of negativity the boy had felt since waking this morning.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“You didn’t have to do anything. I love you because your you.” She turns to face him as she says it, her hands holding the sides of his face. “You deserve to be loved Steve, no matter what they made you believe.” With this the tears he had been so adamant to fight slip down his cheeks, but she catches them with her thumbs, wiping them away as soon as they fall.

“I love you, so much.” His words are choppy, voice thick with emotion as he says them.

“I know, and I love you even more.”

“Not possible.” She chuckles at his response, and in turn, the corners of his mouth lift gently, revealing his first real smile of the day.

“Hey Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“You look pretty when you cry.” Shifting, he looks at her with a curious gaze. “Actually, your pretty all the time, but there’s something unfathomably beautiful about seeing you with tears on your lashes.” Her eyes never leave his, even as her fingers trace the line of his jaw. “It’s gorgeous.” He lets her words sink in for a second before caressing the side of her face.

“Say it again.”

“Steve Harrington, you are gorgeous.” As soon as the sentence leaves her cherry scented lips, he kisses her, every ounce of passion she made him feel seeping into the innocent connection. This was the love he wanted, the kind that didn’t hold judgement, or malice. A love that took work and understanding to function.

A partnership.

He knew things wouldn’t always perfect between them, there would nights they went to bed angry, a stupid argument hanging over them like a hazy, thick cloud. Yet Steve knew, even now, that she would always be there in the morning, grumpy and exhausted, but present, arms open and ready to fix whatever they had broken.

He knew, no matter how far they fell she would always be his soft place to land, and he would be hers.

Tagging: @band--psycho

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things

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yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

bad boy good thing xii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 488

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

here is chapter 12!!! hope you guys enjoy it hehe.

You got a new doormat, Jungkook realises.

He preferred the old one, purely because he remembered the two of you coming across the crocheted piece at a flea market sold by a lovely grandmother that was all smiles and kindness when she spoke to the two of you.

It allowed Jungkook to be a part of your home, the first step into the place that inflates his chest with pride knowing that such a small memory that the two of you shared could act as a conversation starter for people who came over; because truly, the doormat was beautiful.

It’s a plain one now. Far more boring than the array of colours that use to litter the floor, a simple circular mat in a plain shade of beige. Jungkook doesn’t want to know why you’ve opted to change it after a year, right when things have gone sour.

The mat isn’t the only thing that’s different. Even the way Jungkook lingers by your porch at almost midnight with his fist raised and flopping back to his side is different too. Usually, he’d drop you a text, pick at the key in the crevice of a corner you hid it at, or just knock on the door with obnoxious intent until you’re scowling while you greet him at the door.

This time Jungkook has his chest caved in, a heavy feeling in his stomach when he attempts to mull over the apology that rests in his throat. It’s long overdue, a proper one at least. Nothing like the one he gave you at your apartment a month or so back. That was him being selfish.

The words ‘can we talk’ never meant anything good, because if it was light-hearted and civil you’d let him know through a text. Especially when you made it clear that you needed, and purposefully took, time away from him. It felt shitty, having your friends distance themselves away from you because of your own mistakes.

But Jungkook couldn’t resent you, or Jimin, or Taehyung—or even Namjoon who opts for curt nods instead of the usual pat on the back. Because he knew that what he did was awful and that you and everyone had the right to be disappointed in him.

Maybe that was why he was so terrified because had anyone else said or done the same things he did to you—Jungkook would make sure that person would never see the light of day. So he’s terrified, even if he knows you won’t hold him against it—but he’s so scared that you’ve realised how flawed and disgusting Jungkook is and that you’d leave him.

He’s stalling. Prolonging his potential demise when he stands rooted into place with his leather jacket draping his shoulders feeling heavier than usual.

When Jungkook got the text, he was at the gym; blowing off steam. He saw it an hour late, and when he realised it was from you—his heart sped up while his stomach dropped, especially noticing the time it was sent.

He knew he had to act quickly; what if you were asleep? What if he knocked and you realised that you didn’t want to see him anymore?

But Jungkook realises that not talking to you, or not seeing you—is far worse than any of the scenarios he could conjure.

So he takes a deep breath, steadies his fist and knocks.

In a bated breath, he waits; and he’s nearly sweating even under the cool ventilation of the hallway of your apartment. He hears shuffling inside your house, and he feels his heart thump against his chest when he feels rather than anything else, your presence behind the door.

He wonders if you’re hesitating like he was, but he can’t think for too long because the door opens and he sees you.

You’re in your pyjamas, an endearing two-piece set he remembers Taehyung gifting you for your birthday last year. It suits you, highlights your personality because the colour is a calming turquoise, dark enough to feel cosy and bright enough to resemble your character.

Jungkook can only blink at you because it feels like ages since it was just the two of you, and he can’t bring himself to say anything, or even to greet you.

Your hand rests on your door, while you offer him a meek smile.

“I told you the door was open.” You say softly, stepping aside so he can enter.

Jungkook swallows, snapping out of it before he nods his head slowly. He walks into your apartment tentatively, and it feels so wrong. The awkwardness, the tense postures and the uneasiness that permeates the air. Things used to be so easy with the two of you, conversations flew and the two of you just … clicked.

“It didn’t feel right.” He settles for that as an answer, and he notes that you don’t deny it.

“You can leave your jacket on the coat hanger.” You tell him, and he has to push aside the way his heart drops at the distance you keep; prevalent in your voice.

He wants this to be over, the tiptoeing and the way that your walls are always up when he’s around. He just wants to apologise and hug you, hoping that you could forget what happened even if that kills him on the inside. He just wants to be around you, even if he can’t be with you.

But Jungkook pushes aside his desires; the culprit behind the entire mishap in the first place—and slips off his jacket, leaving it on the coat hanger as you mentioned. His t-shirt chafes, and he’s sweating for sure now. But he pretends like he isn’t a step away from a nervous meltdown.

“Have a seat,” You say, patting the spot across you on the couch.

It’s a distance away, and he assumes you do that on purpose. The last few times the two of you were close on a couch … well, things happened and now the two of you were the way you are.

Jungkook sits, resting his palms on his thighs stiffly like he was sitting for an interview. Your eyes drift to his hands, narrowing ever so slightly before you’re returning your gaze onto him.

“What happened to your cheek?”

Jungkook stutters for a second, brain pausing to process your question until his hand reaches up to touch said cheek. He remembers clearly now, and he almost forgets the reminder Jimin left him.

Your brows are furrowed, and he sees you shifting in your seat. Usually, you’d already have walked up to him and helped him with an injury; the past memories of him injuring himself during practices while you were always there to mend him up like you’ve always done resurface. His heart clenches.

“Practice,” Jungkook says quickly, and you raise an eyebrow. Your mouth opens, possibly to counter it, but it closes immediately after.

Jungkook releases the breath he was holding, relieved. He didn’t know what Jimin said to you after, or before it happened. But he knew that you definitely weren’t aware of the conversation Jimin had with him.

“You don’t have to be so stiff, Jungkook.” You frown, “It’s just me.”

Your voice interrupts his thoughts as he snaps his head to stare at you. You’ve managed to rest yourself on your couch, hands tucked under your thighs in an endearing habit you’ve always had.

It’s because it’s you, he’s nervous; Jungkook thinks.

Instead, he says—“Okay.”

He relaxes his posture to appease you, settling into the couch until he sees you giving yourself a soft enough nod of approval.

The atmosphere is almost reflective, the two of you clearly have things to say and to address, but he doesn’t know whether or not to start; to say something when he was the one that was invited over. Clearly, you had a plan—that was only ever why you did the things you did. You were meticulous with routine and order, and any disruption to that would mess with your agenda and you hated that.

The two of you sit in silence, unsure of what to say. Jungkook nibbles on his lips as a nervous habit, bouncing his thigh up and down while he waits for you to break the silence, to say something.

But at the same time, he’s afraid he won’t be able to accept what you tell him.

Jungkook is about to break first, but then you speak, so softly that he strains his ears to catch your voice.

“You hurt me.”

Your voice is weak and timid, and Jungkook’s eyes widen when you opt to start the conversation with that.

It feels like a blow to the chest, seeing you look down at your hands while you furrow your brows, unsure of yourself. Jungkook wants to reach out to you, to apologise, to hold you, to comfort you. But your words are a reminder that he can’t.

“I’m—”

“—sorry. Yeah, I know.” You say blankly, finally looking up at him with a vacant expression. It’s almost terrifying how … detached you made yourself seem to the conversation. And it sets bubbling anxiety in Jungkook’s stomach when he spots your expression.

He purses his lips, remaining quiet while he waits for you to continue.

“I didn’t come over so you’d apologise to me, Jungkook.” You whisper, looking at him with a more serious expression.

He blinks at you, taking in the way you just look … tired. Bothered. Frustrated. All three.

“I …” The words die on his lips, especially when you opt to look away, down on your thighs while you nibble on your lips.

“What you said to me that day was horrible.” You tell him, eyebrows furrowed. And he can tell that you’re trying your best to sound stern. Confrontation has never been your forte, he knew that; and you knew that. But the fact you acknowledged his words only makes him feel infinitely worse. “I never knew you would ever say something like that.” You end in a whisper.

Jungkook can only sit in silence, and it’s crazy how he can feel like an outsider in his own home when you mull over your next set of words.

“I want you to be honest with me, Jungkook.” You say softly, eyes peering up to stare into his.

His breath hitches, especially when he notices the determined expression that lingers when you continue to look at him.

He swallows, even if his heart is terrified that the truth will chase you away, “Yeah. Always.”

You blink, searching his face for any lies, he supposes. If you found one or saw the hesitation, you don’t comment on it. But Jungkook is still scared to have his cards on the table. He doesn’t know how you’d react, how you’d feel when you found out the truth.

A part of him wants to just apologise and move on, keeping you close enough for him to be selfish but a good distance away so he wouldn’t hurt you like that ever again.

But he doesn’t say anything, not yet.

“Why?” You ask in a hoarse whisper, “Why did you kiss me that night at your place?”

Jungkook freezes.

He remembered that night when his heart decided for him that it was enough. Having you right next to him but not with him. He remembers the way you looked so at home on his couch, in his shirt after you spilt hot chocolate on the both of you. The way you timidly asked for a blanket to share, and especially the way your cheeks flushed when he drew closer.

Jungkook feels vulnerable like you’re picking apart every single thought that lays in his mind. He hates it, that you can make him feel this way. You don’t push him, though; to answer. You’re patient when you look at him, eyes gentle.

“I—” He chokes, eyes darting everywhere but your own, “I just wondered what it felt like to kiss you.”

You frown, clearly displeased with his pathetic answer.

But you don’t call him out for it, “Okay …” You mumble, “Then why did you touch me after?”

The words leave your lips so easily, even if Jungkook winces. He’s seen you almost naked enough times, even if you’ve never gone further than him touching you intimately—it’s more than you’ve ever experienced and it should’ve made you flustered, not him. But Jungkook realises that you probably ran over the questions you asked about a hundred times before you laid it all out here for him to see.

Jungkook huffs, ears turning red.

“The mood just felt right.” He clips.

You glare at him when he offers another pathetic response.

“Jungkook.” You call out to him. He can’t bring himself to look at you, “You said to be honest with me.” Your voice is soft and gentle when you remind him.

Jungkook feels himself crumble on the inside, his face morphing into a pained expression when he rubs his hands all over his face.

If you’re aware of his internal meltdown, you don’t comment on it.

“I did a lot of thinking on my own.” You say, “But I don’t think that would’ve gotten me anywhere because all I do is overthink every possible situation.” You laugh softly, fiddling with your thumbs.

Jungkook furrows his brows at the sudden shift of the direction of the conversation.

“I spoke to Namjoon and Jennie.”

He freezes.

His heart drops because he almost forgets about Namjoon. He almost forgets the way he cradled your face so gently when your lips touched. He remembers how he felt, the way his heart dropped to his stomach when he saw his captain and you locking lips while you melted into his touch. He wondered if Namjoon tasted your hesitancy on your lips, not because it was him but because you were always calculated with anything that you did. A charm that drew Jungkook in, and apparently Namjoon as well.

But even if his heart aches, he hears the name of another person; and somehow this only makes his face pale further.

“You spoke to Jennie?” He sounds surprised, and he thinks he has the right to be. Especially when you once referred to her with so much vehemence he’s never seen in you.

“Coincidentally.” You nod. “She offered me a few perspectives I never knew of until we spoke.” You fiddle with your thumbs before offering a small smile to him, “She’s a really nice person.”

Jungkook doesn’t know how to react, especially when you’re telling him that you and Jennie somehow spoke to each other and that you found her words … nice? It almost felt like the world was pulling a joke on Jungkook, and he was ultimately just confused.

“I … okay?” Jungkook tilts his head to the side with a furrow of his brows.

You sigh, “I don’t think I told you this the first time you apologised but …” You take a deep breath; a beat of silence passes when you look at him earnestly, “I forgive you.”

Jungkook’s breath that he was holding, releases in relief as his shoulders slump. A selfish part of him knew that you’d forgive him, only because you were incapable of seeing the bad in others. You were kind, understanding and empathetic. You always gave people chances when they didn’t deserve it and Jungkook was no different. But hearing you say it, after months of ruminating over it in his bed before he sleeps, Jungkook feels a lot better, albeit the ache in this chest.

“Not because you apologised to me but because my heart deserves to heal.” You inform him.

Jungkook purses his lips as he nods in understanding.

“I know that an apology will never take back what I said to you but … I really am sorry. I don’t know what took over me that day and I just—” his eyes flutter shut when he recalls the broken expression on your face, “—I regret it so much. I never wanted to hurt you.” He ends softly.

Jungkook shifts on his seat, reaching forward so that he could grab your hand. You jump at the sudden touch, but you relax when you realise it’s just him. Your skin is soft, and maybe it’s because he nearly forgot how it felt to have you close. He’s selfish, he’s always wanted you but he never knew how to ask.

“I guess.” You say softly, shrugging your shoulders. The response is there, though he doesn’t know what to make out of it. “But you said it for a reason, Jungkook. I just … I just want to know why.”

His hand freezes on top of yours, especially when you return the hold and unconsciously fiddle with his knuckles like you used to, tracing over the tattoos he has.

“I’m an asshole. That’s why.” He sighs, leaning his head forward as he misses your frown.

“I don’t think you are,” You say gently, squeezing his hand. And he hates that you’re still so kind to him. “I think you’re confused. But you also know why you did what you did. You just won’t tell me.”

Your accusation causes Jungkook to shoot his head up as he stares at you with wide eyes. You don’t waver, especially when your smile is still sincere and small as you offer him an encouraging look that he knows he doesn’t deserve.

“I really don’t have an excuse,” Jungkook frowns.

“I’m not looking for an excuse, Jungkook. I’m looking for a reason.” You remind him gently.

He purses his lips, eyes darting away until he feels your body shift and a warm touch cradle his jaw. His body freezes when he feels your gentle hand to cup his jaw and nudge it until he’s looking at you again. This time, your eyes are still calm and soft when you look at him, and your smile is still the same. Jungkook hears the thud of his heart in his ears, especially when you’re so close.

"No more games." You trace your hands gently across his jaw, and he looks so much younger. You suppose it's the lights of the room, two lights turned on with the rest off. Just the way he liked it—just as you remembered.

Jungkook states at the shelf in front of him when his jaw clenches. He can feel the conflict behind his gaze. It isn't frustration that peaks through, instead; it looks a lot like fear.

He finally breaks with a sigh, "No games." He affirms, hands tightening by his sides.

The position is getting uncomfortable but the ache in his chest has been present for months, so he thinks a few more minutes here with the promise of an answer would be nothing. But he was equally as terrified as he thought you were.

Jungkook briefly thinks of Namjoon when you wait patiently, deep in thought. Because Namjoon was nothing like him. He'd give you an answer by now. Unravelling the tangled yarn in his mind just so you could catch a piece of his thoughts.

No. Jungkook was a thinker that often never spoke. His ideas and visions trapped in the confinement of his brain and left for others to hypothesise. But you were patient, somehow your most redeeming and costly quality. It's funny—because he’s always said that you were exactly what he needed.

"Jungkook?" You whisper.

Jungkook hums, eyes slightly twitching when the tip of his ears turn red. It's difficult for him too. But he’s waited for far too long.

"You promised." You remind him gently.

Jungkook takes the leap when he realises that you weren't backing down.

"God." He huffs, falling back onto his couch while you observe him with sad eyes. He felt so ... scared. "I'm so in love with you that I can't even think straight when you're around me.”

Your hand freezes, and he doesn’t even feel terrified when it drops from his face. He can only stare at the ceiling after his words leave his lips. It’s out there. The selfish part of him won and he can’t ever take it back. He can’t find the courage to look at you, not when the silence is so loud and his heart rings behind his ears.

So he continues.

“I just wanted you.” He croaks. “It’s always been you and you looked so … at home when I kissed you the first time. I was selfish. I thought—” His eyes shut, as he takes a deep breath, “—I thought I could at least pretend that you were mine when I touched you. Like you were meant for me and no one else.”

He can’t stop, his heart pouring out everything he’s felt.

“And fuck. Every time you’d say we had to stop what was happening I felt like I was losing you. I just … I just wanted to be someone to you that wasn’t your best friend. Or some younger guy that you knew while growing up. I wanted you to see me as a man. Like someone, you could rely on or be with. Because that’s who you are to me. Someone I can rely on, someone I want to be with.”

He hears your breath hitch.

“Jungkook …” You murmur, “Then why … why did you kiss Jennie? Why were you with her if you already had me?” Your voice is sad, soft and meek when you ask the question Jungkook selfishly wants to avoid.

He sits up abruptly, nearly knocking your forehead with his when he grabs your shoulders as your eyes widen. His eyes are desperate when they peer into your own.

“You didn’t deserve anything I did to you. The words I said. The thing with Jennie.” He groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder as you hesitantly reach a hand to cradle the back of his head ever so gently. He automatically relaxes your touch enough to calm him. But he’s still frustrated, scared, and he doesn’t know what to make of your reaction; or lack thereof.

“Jungkook.” You call his name softly, reaching to hold his shoulders while you look for his eyes.

“Yeah?” He says emotionlessly, almost defeated when he peers at you.

You nibble on your lips, thinking over your words before you squeeze his shoulders.

“Why … why didn’t you say anything?” You ask softly, and if he wasn’t crazy—he swore he heard some sadness behind your voice.

He scoffs, and the reaction has your eyes widening.

“And then what? You don’t feel the same and I would’ve just … ruined everything. I know I did when I kissed you but at least I could pretend like it was … casual. Like it meant nothing to me but a fun time.” You wince at his words, and he sees it. He frowns when he realises the words he threw at you a while back the first time he’s seen you break. “It wasn’t. I just … I couldn’t handle you rejecting me. It … it’d hurt too much.”

It was a selfish part on his end, and only after the silence that passed does he look up to see your eyes already trained firmly on him—a wave of sadness that washes over your features.

“You should’ve spoken to me, Jungkook.” You whisper, hands reaching out to hold his cheeks. Jungkook almost huffs but you beat him to the indirection. “I wanted you too.”

Jungkook’s body stills, eyes widening when he peers into your eyes. You smile sadly at him, and he feels everything come crashing down all at once.

The months that the two of you went without talking to each other, the kisses you’ve shared, the way you feel under his arms, the way your back arches, the giggles you’d share with him. All of it becomes more than just a memory now, but it’s still painful. The way his silence caused all of the problems he thought he couldn’t solve.

It feels … sad.

“What?” He chokes.

You nod your head, holding his cheeks gently.

“I wanted you. But you didn’t choose me. You chose … yourself.” You say softly.

Jungkook frowns, “I just—I thought … how?”

You offer him a sad chuckle, “Jungkook, I don’t think you get it. I love you, I really do. The signs were there. You’re the only person I’d ever want this way. You’re the person I think about on a daily basis and I find myself looking for you even when you're not there. Even when you said the things you did, or whenever I saw you with Jennie. I still wanted you. And that’s why I needed time away.” You inform him seriously.

“So we could have—?”

“I don’t know if you really love me, Jungkook.” You say sadly, eyes darting away that makes him want to comfort you. “Maybe I’m familiar to you but I can’t believe you when you say you love me if you had Jennie and me under your hold when everything happened.” You say with a serious gaze.

“I …”

“I want to move on.” You confess, and he feels his heart drop. “… from this. I don’t know if I’ll stop loving you but that isn’t my goal. I want to be able to understand my sexuality because I was guilty when it first happened and then … you said the things you did—”

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, cradling your cheeks in his head when he rests his forehead against your own. You’re so close, and your lips are only inches apart but it doesn’t seem right to close the distance. Not when the two of you were so confused.

“—I know. But it doesn’t matter. You allowed me to realise that I had some growing to do myself.” You smile, rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

And Jungkook feels so much … younger. Like you were taking care of him when he found out his first rejection from a state team application when he was moping by himself. You drove all the way to see him, to comfort him and hold him close when you didn’t have to. Your touch has always been the same, but it’s Jungkook who was selfish.

You loved him.

It feels … surreal. That the two of you felt the same but because of fear, or whatever that stopped the both of you, he ended up hurting you and pushing you away. Jungkook feels his heart ache, the frustration that seeps through his bone is too much to handle.

“I—where does this leave us?” He wants to be with you. He does. But somehow, the timing doesn’t seem right.

His thoughts are only confirmed when you tell him, “I can’t be with you. It’s unfair to you and to me. I have things I need to sort out first and so do you. But I want you in my life, and that’s selfish for me to ask when I feel the way I do, but you were my best friend before anything else. I loved the boy who was my friend before I loved the man who I hoped to be my partner one day. “

"I want to be with you.” Jungkook declares, eyes firm.

You laugh, eyes still sullen, “You don’t know that Jungkook … you hurt me. You really did. Your words … I don’t resent you for it but I can’t forget it, not just yet. You did allow me to realise that maybe I should put myself out there more. Make new friends. You could be thinking that you do for … closure or whatever, but I don’t deserve that.” You inform him seriously.

“You’re not boring—or whatever the fuck I said. I was insecure and I took it out on you. You’re … you’re you and that’s more than enough.” He says softly.

“I may not be.” You shrug with a small smile, "But there’s still a semblance of truth to it that I can see, menace and vehemence aside. Objectively speaking, I’m quiet. I’m shy. You didn’t say that but you definitely implied it.”

Jungkook sighs, and you say it with no malice. Just stating an observation, and he’s still baffled at how … calm you were, especially when you were in his arms and he was in yours. It feels … better, but not enough.

“I want to be alone but together, just as friends. Until the both of us sort out … whatever that’s happening. I want to move on from this, to go back to how we were.”

Jungkook stays silent, as you smile up at him. He thinks you look so pretty. And there’s dread in his stomach when he thinks of how he fucked it all up, how things could’ve been so much easier if he’d just pushed aside his ego and his pride.

But you’re kind as always when you rub at his cheek.

“But thank you, regardless. Even if it hurt me, and even if you regret it—it allowed me to understand what I needed to do. It brought people like Yena and Namjoon into my life, and I’m so grateful for them.” You smile, and for the first time that night; it’s a sincere one. He sees the way your eyes glisten ever so slightly when you speak about them.

The mention of Namjoon’s name only sends a pang through his heart when he recalls the kiss. But he knows it’s unwarranted, especially when you had to deal with Jennie, which was exponentially worse.

“Do you … do you want to be with Namjoon?” Jungkook asks carefully.

You ponder for a moment, and it hurts Jungkook to think that you were considering his words. But he remains silent, because at least right now—he had you in his arms even if you weren’t his to hold.

“I can’t.” The choice of your words doesn’t get dismissed by him. He realises that you never denied it, but said you couldn’t be with him. Jungkook purses his lips, “It’s unfair to him. I shouldn’t have kissed him either but I did. The same way you should’ve either kissed Jennie or kissed me, not the both of us. But if you really do love me the way you say you do. I want this to happen not because I’m familiar but because you actually want this.”

“You’re more than just a familiar girl to me, _____.” He says softly, holding your cheeks.

You shrug with a small smile.

“Am I?” You sigh, holding his wrist while you stare at him. It feels right when you hold him. “I think we need time. I need time, and so do you.”

Jungkook wants to protest, to say that the two of you have waited so long and feel the same. But he knows it’s not that easy. Not when he’s still had bridges to reconcile and build back. He remembers Jimin, he remembers Taehyung, and he even remembers Namjoon.

Love is not all there is, and sometimes it’s not enough; not now at least.

So Jungkook keeps the words to himself, just once more until he can see a smile that isn’t rooted in hesitancy in your eyes.

But he allows himself to ask, “Can I … can I kiss you?”

He’s pushing his luck. But you’re blinking down at him, and somehow along the way you’ve made it onto his lap. It’s not sexual, nothing about it is. Jungkook just wants to hold you and feel you close.

You hesitate, and he sees you nibbling on your lips as you think. But after a few moments, you sigh, nodding your head so softly.

Jungkook allows himself to indulge at this moment, selfishly and wholly. He holds your face in his hand like it’s the last time he could ever feel it this way, and before he brings himself closer—his eyes trace over your features as they map them out in his mind to revisit a place he would call home.

And you’re stunning. Like you’ve always been. The dark circles under your eyes, the few moles on your face, the slope of your nose, the bumps on your cheek, the slightly chapped skin of your lips. He takes it all in because it’s you.

Then, as your breath hitches while his lips flirt with yours; he returns home.

Your lips are as soft and welcoming as he remembers, and he immediately melts into your hold. Your hands are pressed on his chest, and there’s no rush this time. It’s different. A kiss that leads nowhere but here.

Jungkook kisses you so gently that you feel yourself want, but you needed to think. You still needed time.

When the two of you disconnect, he’s surprised to find himself being the first person pulling away.

You smile.

“Will we be okay?” He murmurs, breath fanning over your lips and it’s a familiar question.

This time, you allow yourself to hope.

“Yeah,” You exhale, “I think we will be.”

#bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jeon jungguk #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x oc #jungkook series

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h2bakugou · 4 years ago

Note

Hiii! I would really like some real angsty/ real fluffiness with Bakugou basically where Class 1A does an embarrassing prank on s/o but they didn't know how she would react and they all end up regretting it and Bakugou Sweetly comforts her and just him being a complete softy to her (class apologizes and makes it up to her) (sorry this was so long)

a/n: hii! ooo this is really cute okokokkokok im- i love soft bakugou this is public knowledge

summary: a seemingly harmless prank played on you by a large number of students from your class lands you holed up in your room, leaving bakugou to clean up behind them to make things better.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, a teeny bit of angst, mentions of body insecurities

word count: 1.4k

;cut for length;

»»————-　★　————-««

The prank. It was seemingly harmless, throw a few buckets of water on you, Bakugou’s girlfriend-an idea Kaminari and Sero came up with-to watch both his and your reaction.

And this prank grew into something much bigger.

Now with nearly half the class in on it, you were nothing short of unexpecting as you walked beside Bakugou toward the front door of your dormitory.

You’d seen your classmates all standing around outside, and curious, you were ready to go and investigate with your boyfriend.

However, as you stepped outside and off of the porch, Bakugou was yanked away and what felt like the bottom of a storm cloud falling out, soaked you in water.

Soaked was an understatement, you were drenched. You stared in horror as your clothes stuck to your body, making you feel uncomfortable as your classmates laughed at you, only making you feel worse.

Bakugou had to watch it, and now that the shock had set in, he rushed over to you, but you were already running back inside, leaving a trail of water behind you.

It didn’t help that you slipped along the way, landing and busting your lip as you groaned in pain, forcing yourself off the ground to make it back to your dorm.

You were horrified. Thankfully, you’d left your phone inside, but there was still shame to be felt.

Not only had you been drowned by buckets of water, but your hair had also been drenched and ruined, your clothes stuck to every crevice of your body, making you feel uncomfortable, exposed, and self-conscious of your insecurities.

Any makeup that you had put on had run down your face, you were too scared to even look in the mirror.

Your face ached from your fall, but you tried to ignore it as you hid in your room, standing in your bathroom, trying to peel your wet clothes off to change.

“What the fuck?!” Bakugou shouted, yanking himself back away from Kaminari who had pulled him out of the way of the several water buckets positioned above the awning of the porch which had been pulled down to soak you in water.

“Hey, hey relax! It was just a prank!” Kaminari tried to laugh it off, but with Bakugou grabbing him by the collar, his palm sparking, Kaminari was beginning to fear for the next moments of his life.

“Like shit it was! Who’s idea was this? Was it fuckin’ yours?” Bakugou glared at the yellow-blonde as he nodded hesitantly, not even bothering to loop Sero into this madness.

“It was! It was supposed to just be a harmless prank! We didn’t think she’d blow it out of proportion!” Kaminari tried to defend himself and his classmates.

Bakugou knew deep down, it was meant to be harmless. And that accusing Kaminari was just his anger’s way of handling things. But to hear him accuse you, of reacting the wrong way.

“Watch your fuckin’ mouth. It’s not her fault at all. You better fuckin’ fix this.” Bakugou tossed Kaminari to the ground, leaving to head back inside, sending a narrow glare at the silent peers that stood outside, mortified that Bakugou would say something to them next.

“Maybe this was a bad idea.” Mina bit the inside of her cheek, glancing over to Sero, the one who had approached her about the idea.

“You think?” Kirishima sighed, shaking his head. He knew just by standing there he’d let both you and Bakugou down.

“We need to apologize.” Kirishima was the one who broke the unsettling aura first, taking the first steps to initiate some sort of apology to mend what had been broken.

As Bakugou made his way up to your dorm, he noticed the significantly body-shaped water spot that had already begun to dry in some spots on the floor. He was now worried you’d injured yourself.

And as he rushed to your dorm even faster, he didn’t even bother to knock.

Twisting the knob and opening the door to your room, he noticed how dark it was inside. No lights on to signify that you were even there. The curtains had been closed, blocking out any light, but with just enough light from the hall, he could make out the shape of someone huddled under piles of blankets.

Listening closely, he could hear your whimpers, your cries.

Shutting the door behind him, he walked over to you carefully, reaching to nudge wherever your arm my be.

“Hey-”

“Go away.” You sobbed, turning away from him. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to stop crying, but the tears continued to flow.

“I don’t want to see you right now, I’m the fucking joke, I get it! You don’t have to come here and rub it in or praise your friends just because you’re so close to me-”

A warm feeling invaded your blanket fortress as Bakugou crawled under your covers, wrapping his arms around you as he trapped you in his grasp.

“You really think I was in on this idiot?” Bakugou whispered, resting his head against your back. Your eyes shot open wide and your body turned to face him.

“Y-you weren’t?” You spoke softly, now feeling bad for accusing him. Bakugou sighed and pulled you in closer to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” Bakugou whispered, a hand tucking a few semi-dried strands of your hair behind your ear.

“I feel like shit.” You lay your head into Bakugou’s chest, closing your eyes.

“Had I known I would’ve stopped it before it happened. They’re a bunch of dumbasses.” Bakugou hugged you as you snaked your arms around him.

“I’m sorry for being mad at you.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re upset. You can feel upset. If it helps to take it out on me, I’ll tough it out.” Bakugou smirks.

“I’m your big and strong boyfriend after all.” His comment makes you giggle.

“Says the one cuddling me like a teddy bear.” You tease the blonde as he snuggles into your neck, placing little kisses along your cool skin.

You had been freezing cold from the water and the cool air, covering up under a plethora of blankets to warm yourself up tied in with wanting to hide away from the world.

“Can we stay like this, for a while?” You asked quietly, snuggling into Bakugou’s warmth.

“Mhm.” Bakugou replied lazily, taking the time to enjoy this time with you. He knew you didn’t want to talk about what happened, and you were okay with that.

After a little while and after taking a short nap, you were up and ready to head back out to grab a little bite to eat.

When Bakugou turned one of your lights on, it was then that he saw the large bruise on your bottom lip.

“What happened to your lip?” Bakugou was concerned, cupping your face in his hands as his thumbs poked around at your lip.

“Ow! I slipped and busted it-”

“Those-”

“It’s fine. It’ll heal. I just need to get some ointment for it.” You sighed, leaning over to delicately kiss Bakugou’s hand.

Bakugou sighed and leaned to press a gentle kiss to your lips, just barely touching his to yours in fear of hurting your lip even more.

When you made it downstairs to the common room, you were shocked to see the pranksters sitting still and silent in some weird formation, their heads lifting when they spotted you and Bakugou.

“Can we talk for a moment?” Kirishima asked loudly, the two of you stopping to see what they wanted.

“What?” Bakugou asked angrily.

“We’d like to apologize.” Kirishima started.

“It was our idea, to prank you, (Y/n). And It was a really dumb idea. we’re very sorry.” Kaminari and Sero were the first to apologize.

“And we’re sorry for embarrassing you.” Mina and Kirishima apologized for the remainder of the students who sat there. You glanced at Bakugou before sighing.

“Thank you, for the apologies. I know your intentions were pure, but please let’s try pranks that don’t involve water buckets.” You tried to ease the mood. Sero and Kaminari were already back to planning.

“I’m sorry for yelling at all of you. But don’t fuckin’ pull this shit again.” Bakugou yelled, before grumbling something back toward the kitchen.

“I’m really sorry.” Kirishima said to you personally.

“It’s okay. I forgive you, I forgive all of you.” You spoke up a bit louder. Kirishima hugged you.

“But we aren’t even.” You smirked.

“P-prank war?” Kirishima stuttered.

“Prank war.” Your eyebrows narrowed.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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fandomfoodiedancer · 3 years ago

Text

The stitch up job

Summary: trying to mend Eliot after a fight, you try not to think about your feelings for him, when all he wants to tell you is how he feels.

Word count: 1000 ish

Warnings: Eliot Spencer. That's it. He counts as a warning. Oh and stitches if that makes you uncomfortable.

A/N: I am in love with Eliot and have a huge amount of inspiration today. If anyone isn't sure, the TV show is Leverage and I highly recommend it!

A quiet gasp was the only sound in the room as you sat beside Eliot on the lounge, dabbing at his cut eyebrow. As always, there were unexpected problems with the job, and when everyone got back to Nate's apartment, it was your job to stitch them up. Or at least, stitch up Eliot as he was usually the only one to get hurt, as was the case tonight.

When Sophie found you a year ago, you were having a really rough time. She took you in along with the others and soon you were working with them all as part of the team. Mostly you acted as the glue that held them all together, making food when Eliot was exhausted, picking up skills from all of them, helping with anything they needed and being a shoulder for all of them to cry on, or even just vent to. They were your family, but with Eliot, you couldn't help but wish it was more. Part of you felt guilty about wanting more, after all he was about 10 years older than you. That's why you felt he could never love you back, believing he thought of you as only a little sister or friend. With that thought, you focused on the task at hand. All you needed to do now was stitch the cut on his chest.

“Can you take your shirt off? I need to stitch the cut on your chest.” You internally face palmed, feeling like you sounded stupid, but he just smiled, wincing as he shrugged his shirt off. You tried hard not to stare at the most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on.

Knowing from experience that it would be harder to stitch from beside him, you straddled his hips and tried hard not to blush, soaking a cotton ball in antiseptic. Handing him a pillow to squeeze with his left hand, you gently dabbed the cut going from his chest across to his right shoulder, feeling him gasp and tense as you did.

“m'sorry it hurts so much” You mumbled as you wiggle closer to him whilst attempting to thread the needle.

“It's all good sweetheart, I'm just lucky your the one patching me up” He smiled whilst staring at you, making you blush as you forced yourself to remember that he didn't feel the same way. You tried to smile back, but the stupid needle wouldn't thread. As Eliot took a long draw from the bottle of whiskey beside him to dull the pain, you finally got he needle threaded.

“This is going to hurt sorry, but I'll be as gentle as I can. Plus, the good news is I've learnt better since last time” you attempted to sound reassuring as you remembered how patchy your sutures were last time.

Bracing himself, Eliot put a wad of paper towels in his mouth, squeezing the pillow and nodding to you before looking away. You'd hoped that after the initial stitch the pain would ebb a bit for him, but it only seemed to get worse. Trying to take his mind off the pain and distract him a bit, you said the first thing that came to mind.

“Well, the good news is, when this is all healed you can go out on another date with that girl you picked up from the bar the other day.”

“Yeah, I don't think that'd be a good idea” you tried to stifle a laugh. As smooth as Eliot could be, he also fucked up royally with women at times. You thought this was the case, but wanted to keep him distracted.

“Really? What happened this time?”

“Well it's my fault really. I've got feelings for someone else”

You felt your heart drop into your stomach as a dull ache formed. Of course there was someone. Why wouldn't there be? Still, you didn't want him to know how disappointed you felt, so you plastered a cheeky smile on you face as you kept the stitches tight.

“Oh really? The great womanizer has feelings for someone? I'll bite. Who is it?”

“Well, let's just say she's gorgeous. She's the most beautiful person I know. Hot on the outside too” He winked at you. You felt dead on the inside. “ she likes to cook too. And she does this thing where she hides her feelings to look after everyone else, but I'm lucky enough that she usually lets me in”

You didn't look up. If you did, you would have seen how softly he was looking at you, the awe in his gaze as he smiled despite his pain. Your heart hurt, but you couldn't let this go.

“And does this mystery woman have a name?”

“Yes she does”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Y/n”

“Yes?”

“...”

He blinked

You blinked

“Are you going to tell me her name?”

“You know, you are the most beautiful but incredibly dense person I know.”

“Thank you? I don't really know how to take that.” He chuckled despite his pain and kept silent as you neared the end of the stitches. After a moment he broke the silence as you tied the thread off.

“Say there was a guy, who is a fair bit older than you, but he really really cared about you. He’s even scared shit-less as he actually thinks he loves you. Would you give him a chance?”

You froze. The vulnerability in his voice told you this wasn't a hypothetical, or even an example. He was serious. This was real. You went over the conversation from a moment ago.

Are you going to tell me?

Y/n

You cut the thread. You heart was frozen solid, but his was beating fast enough for the both of you, as he held his breathe, waiting for a response. Looking him deep in the eyes, you felt a huge wave of emotions crash over you. You looked at his lips, and slowly lent down to graze your lips on his. Pulling back slightly to look back in his eyes, you checked this really was happening. His left hand reached up and gently held the side of you neck as he brought you back in for a searing kiss.

@immrbrightsideeee @wontlastimokwiththat @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline

#eliot spencer x reader #eliot x reader #leverage #eliot spencer #fanfic

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nev3rfound · 4 years ago

Text

the other widow : b.b

natasha may have left what she once knew behind when she became an avenger, but there is still so much more to learn about her sister who escaped the red room with the help of a certain metal armed soldier. (3k)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop - requests open!

requested: yes! this has been a long awaited idea from @ateliefloresdaprimavera i hope you like it love :) warnings: mentions of violence, blood, nightmares. obviously, I haven't seen the black widow movie so this is just my interpretation!

In another life, things might've been different for you. Perhaps, you could have left your home country and followed many your age in their quest to find a better life in America or Europe. You might have met someone, a kind man who took care of you, who loved you deeply.

That would have been nice, in another lifetime. But it wasn't reality, at least, not yours.

Your reality was living in a world plagued by nightmares, of what was done to you for many years. It hurt to blink as you saw yourself, lying back on that table as Doctors crowded around you, muttering about the success of their work.

"No, she's still out there," Your ears perk up at the conversation behind you. The kitchen window remains open whilst you sit outside, tugging at the rose petals from the rose bush. It always was too pretty. Pretty things aren't designed to last for long.

Melina sighs heavily into her phone, glancing away from the window. "What do you expect me to do? She doesn't go anywhere." Disappointment laces her tone combined with the tiredness of her mind. She's been trying for months to encourage you to go out, further than the land you live on.

Faintly you can hear the other end of the conversation, Melina always had a habit of keeping her phone on speaker. "I might visit soon." That is all you managed to hear, but it was enough for you to drop the remainder of the rose and crush the petals beneath your feet.

"Oh good, you're awake." A pair of gloves snap against his wrists, causing you to flinch in your seat. "Now, Y/n, there's no point trying to struggle, you know what happened last time." Doctor Yeznik reminds you with a twisted smile, waiting for you to nod.

"They deserved it." You dare to mutter, only to hear Yeznik chuckle before he turns back to face you, gripping your face in his hand.

"And you deserve this." He seethes, stabbing a needle into your arm before you can fight back. "No one is coming to save you, Y/n, never forget that." Yeznik whispers, watching as your eyes begin to droop until you're unable to fight the urge to sleep.

Rising to your feet, you can feel a smile ghost your lips at the sight of a Blue Tit perching on the edge of the birdbath. One of his wings isn't quite right, and as you approach it, it remains perfectly still.

Holding your hands out, you ignore the scars from the restraints still marking your wrists and forearms. "I won't hurt you," You tell the bird as it dips its head into the water, shaking the excess off. "I can help you, little one." You add quietly, only to watch the bird retreat and fly away uneasily.

"There's always next time." Melina calls out from the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Yeah," You nod, lowering your arms and bury your hands into your pockets. "if it makes it through the night without being able to fly far."

Entering the kitchen, you pass Alexei in silence, despite him turning his head to speak up.

Once out of sight, Alexei averts his attention to Melina who simply shakes her head. "She's still working on recovering." Melina sighs, taking a seat opposite the broad man. "The, the red room got worse after Natasha escaped."

"You don't have to explain," Alexei waves her off, aware of you standing at the top of the stairs, listening in due to the creak of the floorboards. "it'll take time."

"I just don't know if that's something we have." Melina comments, passing a burner phone to Alexei with a text message on display.

Shifting in his seat, Alexei looks back at Melina before crushing the phone in his grasp. "We'll do what we can." He mutters before silence ensues and the pressure from the floorboard beneath your feet eases as you return to your needed solitude.

Opening your eyes, you knew something was off, something was different within the house.

Underneath your pillow, you grab ahold of your gun before traipsing out from your room which remains in permanent darkness.

As you exit your bedroom, light tries to seep through the gap in the door but you quietly close it, keeping the darkness concealed from the light.

Avoiding any creaking floorboards, you keep your gun aimed at all times before the faint sound of laughter catches your attention from downstairs. It was a rarity to hear anything joyous in the household, mostly arguments occurred or stories of fights Alexei shares that you can recite from memory if you were ever asked.

But this was different, something lighthearted shared for a brief moment before you turn the corner and hover by the kitchen doorway seeing all the seats taken at the table, Melina's now taken by a redhead.

"This is a surprise." You speak up, placing your gun on the counter, now catching everyone's attention.

Smiling to Yelena, Natasha quickly turns around in her chair, leaning her arm over the back. "Hey sis," She greets you, her accent replaced by an American version. "long time no see, huh?"

Everyone in the room remains still, waiting for you to make the first move like a scared animal. You'll either scarper or approach with caution, and even at that moment, you're unsure which route you'll take.

"What brings you back here?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you remain standing, despite Alexei rising to his feet and offering you his chair.

"There's some unfinished business I have to deal with." Natasha states, and Yelena motions for you to come closer whilst Natasha has her back turned.

"And we're being dragged into it somehow?" You're quick to comment, remembering the last time it happened which resulted in your previous home being burnt to the ground and Natasha vanishing into thin air once more.

Rising to her feet, Natasha walks over to the doorway leading into the garden. She doesn't wait for you to follow, but she knows eventually you will.

"She means well, Y/n." Yelena tells you whilst playing with a knife, jabbing it against the table despite Melina swatting it away.

Humming to yourself, you force your feet forward until you're outside, listening to the peaceful presence of nature.

Whilst you're in your own world temporarily, Natasha can't help but take the opportunity to observe you, notice the changes since she last saw you. Melina explained the nightmares you've been having of late, how you wake up clawing at your own skin until it bleeds and you clutching onto a pillow, tearing into the cotton with ease as you sob.

You look visibly drained, that much Natasha can tell. She knew she should've brought you with her, away to America the last time she was here, but there wasn't enough time. She watched you from afar as the building fell into itself, devoured by the flames and you looking around for your sister, nowhere to be seen.

"There's a little blue tit who visits daily now," You begin to explain, opening your eyes as they remain trained on the empty birdbath. "he's got a damaged wing, can't fly very far but he always visits." Moving closer to the bath, you can see the reflection of other birds flying above in groups. One or two flies further back from the others, flapping their wings in desperation to not be left behind; something you know all too well.

As your hands rest on the birdbath, Natasha can see the scars across your skin clearly.

"Y/n, I never got a chance to apologise last time I was here," Natasha begins, stepping closer toward you, yet you seem oblivious to her words.

"And I hope at some point he'll let me help him, mend him back to his best so he can fly away." Your lips rise for a second at the thought before returning to a straight line, now allowing yourself to process Natasha's statement. "You don't need to apologise, Nat."

"But I do, Y/n." Natasha urges as she resists reaching out for your hand, knowing no one touches you anymore unless they dare risk a broken bone or two. "I should've found you in there and taken you with me. You were still a child, I,"

"I don't blame you, sister." Turning to face her, you force yourself to smile, an attempt to reassure her as she frowns deeply. "The only person I blame for everything is Yeznik." You can't help but shudder, hearing his voice in the back of your mind, one of the many who taunts you in your sleep.

"That's why I'm here." Natasha states.

You can't stop the scoff from leaving your lips. "You can't be serious, Natasha." Yet, you watch your sister nod immediately. "Do you want to get yourself killed?"

"I could ask you the same thing." She retorts, catching you off guard. "Don't think I don't know about the truth behind your escape, Y/n."

"What are you talking about?" You question, knowing better than to confess to your sister of all people. "I escaped that hell hole on my own. Killed several guards in the process and escaped with nine bullet wounds." You remind her, lifting your shirt to show the bullet wound scars that never properly healed.

"But you didn't escape from the Red Room. You escaped during a mission." She explains, watching your expression falter for half a second, but it was enough for her to know you're lying.

Shaking your head, you back away toward the small hutch hidden beneath an oak tree that currently houses three rabbits.

"That is preposterous, even for me, Natasha." You chuckle, opening the hutch and reach for the number one who happily hops out and stands beside you.

Looking away from you, Natasha can see the three others watching closely from the kitchen window. She can see Yelena mouthing something, but rolls her eyes when Natasha shakes her head.

"The Winter Soldier." Yelena marches over, causing you to tense up and the rabbit hops back into the hutch as you gently lock it once more. "Remember him, Y/n?"

"His name is Bucky." You mutter under your breath before slowly standing up. "And don't you dare talk about him." You spit at Yelena who spares Natasha a look.

"You helped each other escape, didn't you?" Natasha pushes her question, and this time to her surprise you don't object.

"Follow me," You sigh, walking around the garden to a set of stairs, leading you to the rooftop filled with trees and plants.

Admiring the greenery, Natasha hesitantly follows behind you.

"You going to stand there all day or sit down?" Raising a brow to Natasha, she breathes out a laugh and sits down on one of the seats dotted around that isn't taken by a plant.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Natasha leans forward, resting her forearms on her thighs and you mirror her action.

"Yes." You mutter. "But I can't remember everything it, part of it I blocked out." You admit, feeling your leg already beginning to shake beneath you.

"You will be accompanied this time, Y/n." Your tutor, Ms Ivanov tugs on your ponytail forcefully whilst you remain seated.

"I don't need company." Tugging your head forward, her fingers fall through the ends of your hair and she hums in response. "I'm capable of this myself."

Ms Ivanov chuckles under her breath before standing in front of your desk, resting her hands on the sides as her eyes fixate on yours. "That might be so, but not this time." Pushing her hands from your desk, Ivanov nods to the closed door.

Within seconds someone is forced through the metal frame with a bag covering their face. They're of a large build, but your eyes widen at the sight of metal making up their left arm.

"Is it?" Your question leaves your lips before you've fully thought about what this means, and Ivanov smirks.

Stepping toward the concealed figure, she tugs the sheet from their face, revealing a mass of brown hair.

He lifts his head up and stares at you immediately those pensive blue eyes you've heard whispers of. He fights against his restraints as two guards stand behind him with loaded guns.

"There will be plenty of time for that, soldat." Ivanov laughs, patting his metal arm. "Now, Y/n. It's time to go."

"I don't know what happened on that mission. But when I woke up, I, I was free." Unable to look at your sister, your focus lies on the breeze weaving through the branches of the trees.

Natasha leans forward, wishing she could tell you everything she knew. "You saved each other, Y/n." She speaks up, remembering the last time she saw him, a broken shell of the man he once was, his demeanour mirroring yours.

"I guess," You shrug. "but after everything, I, I have no idea what happened to him. I, I don't even know if he's still," Pursing your lips, the word never leaves as you curl your arms toward your stomach.

Looking toward the others, Natasha sighs at their disapproving glares. She knows they mean well, that they are practically family. But you're the only true blood family Natasha has left, and she can't lie to you anymore, not this time.

Standing in Wakanda, Bucky smiled truly for the first time in years. He was no longer plagued by the fear of becoming the Winter Soldier. He was finally free of it all.

But he still had a long way to go, to make amends for those he hurt, and amongst everyone, there was you. His Black Widow, Y/n.

"Hey, Barnes." Natasha stands beside him, looking out at the vast farmland that surrounds them. She can't help but think how much you would love to be somewhere like this, somewhere that is peaceful, tranquil.

"Hello, Natasha." Bucky turns to face the redhead, having not spoken to her since he was under Zemo's control. "I erm, I would like to apologise for everything I did, and for hurting you all those years ago." Bucky explains, and Natasha patiently listens, allowing him to get his full speech out. "And for what they made me do in," Furrowing his brows together, Natasha clears her throat.

"We don't have to talk about that." She tells him as she reaches into her pocket, taking out a folded piece of paper, well worn. "I wanted to ask you something before anyone knows where I am."

"Okay?" Bucky answers uneasily, tugging on the cloth that covers the remainder of his left shoulder.

Unfolding the piece of paper, Bucky can see a glimpse of a black and white photo.

"Here," Natasha holds the photograph out, face down to Bucky who hesitantly accepts. She watches intently as he turns the photograph over and can't help but smile as his breath hitches in his throat.

"Y/n." Bucky looks up to Natasha who simply nods.

"I was wondering if you'd remember her." Natasha crosses her arms over her chest, trying to hide the smirk forming on her face and amusement in her tone.

A playful scoff leaves Bucky's lips. "How could I forget her?" He thinks aloud. "I could never forget the person who helped me escape, who, who," 'Helped me realise I'm still human despite everything I've done.' Bucky thinks to himself, remembering the night before he left you as you lay in his arms whilst he listened to your soft reassurances. "Do you know where she is?" He tries to hide the hope in his voice, but it's useless.

"Yes." Natasha answers. "Y/n Romanoff." She states, and Bucky stares blankly at Natasha for a moment, before a light laugh leaves his lips.

"I shoulda known." He sighs dramatically. "Makes a lot of sense now." Bucky mutters, but Natasha doesn't pry. "Is, is she with you?" He glances past her, toward the jet she came on, but Natasha shakes her head.

"She's safe, in Russia." Natasha explains as she walks alongside Bucky toward the lake. "But she prefers the company of animals over people these days."

"Makes two of us then." Bucky comments. "I, I promised I'd find her." Allowing his mind to drift as the lake ripples, Bucky pictures your sleeping form in his arms minutes before he left you. He whispered you a promise, one he has yet to fulfil.

"Then let me help you keep that promise." Natasha places her hand on his arm gently, and Bucky snaps out from his thoughts. "I know you're still healing, and she is too. But I'll come back, Barnes."

Bucky nods. "Thank you, Natasha."

"James Barnes," Natasha slowly interrupts your prolonged silence. "is still alive, he, he's healing, but he remembers you, Y/n."

You reach out and take Natasha's hand in yours. For a moment, you simply stare, void of emotion before tightening your grip, beginning to crush her fingers whilst Natasha remains stoic.

"Don't lie to me, Nat." You tell her, keeping your eyes locked on hers.

"I'm not lying, Y/n." She responds, ignoring the pain you're inflicting before your grip begins to ease, but she doesn't pull away immediately. "He made you a promise, didn't he?"

"I, I don't know." You admit sadly, looking down at your lap, faintly hearing his voice in the back of your mind fighting through the horrid memories engrained there from the red room.

"He did, Y/n." Natasha asserts herself. "Would you like to see him?"

"I think so." You answer honestly as you uncurl your body and sit upright. "But only once this is over. Once Yeznik is gone. I don't want to be haunted anymore, Nat."

This time, Natasha extends her hand, taking yours in hers delicately.

"Okay, sis." She breathes out, helping you to your feet. "Let's get started."

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taechaos · 3 years ago

Note

can u do more of jealous jk drabbles?👉👈

this one kinda cute but theres smut 😃

The best time of the day is when the sun is just over the horizon, taking on a blue and orange hue in the sky, not shining bright enough to blind or give a heat stroke to the crowd in the amusement park. Just enough illumination to not have to rely on the lights provided from the ferris wheel, neon titles above the rides and games you stand before.

You can't contain your squeal and shake your interlocked hands with Jungkook while bouncing on your feet, the three companies you came with much more casual about the occasion. "Where should we go first?!"

Your boyfriend shrugs, Soyeon glances at Taehyung who makes the decision: "Rollercoaster." He has a crazed grin on his face, the sparkle and mischief in his eyes matching yours. Both of you are extremely fond of these thrillers.

"A rollercoaster...? I'll wait for you guys," Soyeon sheepishly holds her nape with a smile. You coo at her.

Jungkook scoffs arrogantly, "Are you afraid too, baby? You can hold onto my arm."

You blow raspberries and clutch onto your friend's arm, "I love rollercoasters." You and Soyeon gaze into each other's eyes as you say, "Don't worry. It'll be fun if you come with me."

She blushes, Taehyung and Jungkook watching the interaction with quirked brows. How boy-friendly of you.

The seats were decided. You all bought the tickets, and it's your turn to hop on the carts. Girls sit in front of the boys, and Soyeon hesitantly places her hand on top of yours on the railing. Taehyung wraps his hands around Jungkook's arm, who is slouching in his seat with a frown.

"I'm so scared, Jungkookie," Taehyung's teeth chatter, "w-will you protect me?"

All the carts are secured as the ride slowly moves forward, slightly creaking as Jungkook groans, "Let go of my fucking arm!" Despite his relentless shaking, his best friend only holds on tighter.

"Why? Your girlfriend is having a sexual awakening with her buddy girl, why can't we?!"

Jungkook gapes at him, brows meeting in perplexity before he looks at the row across. The two of you have your heads leaning on each other, and no, that was the romantic scene he was supposed to have with you, not Taehyung who snuggles into him in whimsical fear.

"She's straight," he counters weakly, not even caring about his numbing arm from the sight before him.

The carts reach the peak of the tracks, a sense of adrenaline stirring in everyone's stomach and you squeeze Soyeon's hand comfortingly seconds before Taehyung's scream torments the whole population's ears. Needless to say, Jungkook had it the worst.

—————

Your boyfriend winces with a finger in his left ear as he follows the group with Taehyung next to him, behind you and Soyeon.

"Remind me to never go on a rollercoaster with you," he seethes intimidatingly, emitting a snort from the guilty.

"Ooh, bumper cars!" Taehyung childishly points at the competitive game. Jungkook smiles wickedly, "I'm going to give you a fucking concussi–"

"Boys against girls!" Soyeon chirps, and you gasp at the amazing idea.

"Yes! That'd be so fun!"

Upon seeing Jungkook's incredulous face, Taehyung bursts out in laugher and clutches his stomach, tearing up when he instantly goes in denial mode.

Which didn't help, because Soyeon stole you for herself once more and he is stuck with the dumbest person he's ever met once more.

"Let's beat those bitches."

"That's my girlfriend, Tae."

Those words were thrown out the window the moment the game began, because he became ruthless. Even Taehyung was getting nauseous from how violently the car was bumping against yours, the one Soyeon claimed shotgun in, rocking your bodies back and forth. It's revenge for not giving him the attention he rightfully deserves, and leaving him with who was supposed to be a fourth wheel.

No mercy, you must suffer.

When you all got off the ride, Taehyung couldn't stop stumbling all over the place.

"I'm going to throw up," he groans and pinches Jungkook's shirt.

"That settles it: I won," he shrugs triumphantly. Soyeon is quick to bite back, "You almost killed us."

"Oh no," you jump to his defence with a giggle, "he's just very competitive."

Your boyfriend smiles at your first acknowledgement of his existence, relieved as he throws an arm around you. "I'm not about to lose to a bunch of–"

"Please don't finish that sentence," you smile at him; sickly sweet with your warning.

He forces a chuckle, "–a bunch of strong, independent women."

—————

"You ever seen lesbian porn, Jungkook?" Taehyung asks as he licks up a fat stripe on his ice cream. Jungkook doesn't bother responding. "It usually begins with one girl being all shy and reluctant until the sexual tension becomes too much. Say they're studying, gossipping, whatever, the normal stuff. Then... one of them makes the first move, and the other eventually gets into it." He glances at his friend to measure his reaction; nonchalant and barely listening. "Oh, but I have a boyfriend, oh this is wrong, oh friends don't do this," he imitates in a higher pitch. "Then they fuck."

"Do you ever stop talking?" he asks, flabbergasted and annoyed. He's holding onto your ice cream after you left to the bathroom with your friend, Taehyung protecting hers and licking the melted drops to keep the cone clean. What Soyeon doesn't know won't hurt her; the flavor is too good for him to waste.

"I'm just saying man, you never know with these girls," his cheeks puff out as he suppresses a laugh. Jungkook's paranoia is easy to mess with, and he knows he shouldn't do it so often, but it's just so fun. A snort slips.

"They've been roommates for two years, I'm sure if she was bisexual, she'd know by now," he spits defensively.

"Oh my God, do you think they got drunk and kiss–"

"We're back!" you announce and take your cone from Jungkook's hand, your friend doing the same.

"Welcome back, baby," he stands up to hug you, effectively pulling you a few steps away from Soyeon with a glare. You relish in it with joy, mushing your face against his chest.

"What should we go on next?" Taehyung casually cuts into your display of affection.

"The ferris wheel, maybe? Oh, Soyeon, you have–" you point at the corner of your lip, and she mirrors the opposite side, prompting you to reach out a hand and wipe off the stain with your thumb. Jungkook blinks in astonishment. Taehyung's eyes widen to saucers as he watches his soul leave his body. His words are getting to him.

Your hand is snatched away in a flash, and you're dragged away back to the stalls where he corners you, answering your unspoken question: "Hey, just wanted to privately ask you how your date is going with Soy milk." His voice drips with sarcasm, the attitude catching you off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I feel like I'm third wheeling in front of my own girlfriend," he scowls, and your heart drops. "You haven't done a single thing with me today. I thought we came here to spend time with each other, yet we've done anything but. Be honest, are you..." he gulps and averts his gaze, "is there something going on...?"

"Jungkook," you startle and place a hand on his chest, "it's nothing like that. Of course I wanted to spend time with you, but Soyeon's been trying really hard to mend our friendship so I thought I would reciprocate. I didn't want things to be awkward between us, but I didn't realize I was neglecting you. I'm really sorry, love."

Your explanation endears him, shoulders slouching in relief just before he murmurs, "But in lesbian porn..."

"Oh my God," you exclaim in disbelief with a laugh, "I just hung out with her."

"You know I get needy!" he frowns with flushed cheeks. "That bitch wouldn't let go of you for one goddamned second, if I didn't know better I would've dragged you away a lot sooner."

You coo at him and squeeze his cheeks before he shakes you off grumpily. "I was going to go on the ferris wheel to make it up to you."

"Oh wow," he rolls his eyes, "can't believe you found the time to think about me."

"So jealous," you tease.

"Shut up," he pushes your forehead with his finger, "before I try to mend my friendship with Soy milk as well."

"She is not your friend," you glare at him with hooded eyes.

"So jealous."

—————

"The ride is five minutes long," Jungkook blurts out of thin air the moment you step into the moving cabin. "And we're going to stop at the top." At your gasp, he continues as he takes a seat, "Yeah, I did that movie cliché and paid extra."

"Jungkook," you coo with doe eyes and lay your head on his shoulder, "that's so romantic."

"Hey, don't get all cute. You said you were going to make it up to me." He tilts your chin, "How far are you willing to go?"

His question doesn't throw you off, and you chuckle, "Whatever you want."

"Yeah? Your time is running out," he looks past the window to see how high up you are. Four meters off the ground, give or take. "You think you can make me cum before we get off?"

Oh. "Better choose fast–"

You fondle with the buckle of his belt and make quick work of your hands to pull down his black jeans that hug his thighs. You lick your lips for moisture, and after what some experiences have thought you, you know to spit in your hand before wrapping your fingers around him.

"Damn, you didn't come here to play," he releases a humored breath as he watches you get him off. As if the limited time isn't bad enough, you have to get him erect in remarkable speed as well. He shifts slightly with a deep sigh, and when his cock starts to grow, you get on your knees before him and take the head of his length in your mouth. He sucks his teeth and weaves his fingers through your hair as he closes his eyes. Thirteen meters off the ground.

Mindful of your pace, you ease his length inside by taking him inch by inch, swirling your tongue the way he likes it and bobbing your head. His grip on your hair tightens as a low grunt resounds in the cabin. "You're doing so well," he looks down at you with half hooded eyes, lustful in their gaze, "you want to make it up to me that bad? Want to please me? Gosh," he sighs.

You deepthroat him with your hand covering what you can't reach until he thrusts into your mouth. You gag in reflex, and he uses your hair as leverage to do the rest for you. It's sloppy now, and saliva drools from the corner of your mouth with welling tears. You can only hope he reaches climax in time. Twenty two feet off the ground.

When his thrusts begin to slow down, you take it as your cue to pull away and jerk him off, your tongue taking care of the tip as his breaths grow more and more shallow. You assume he's holding back moans as to not attract any attention to your cabin. Thirty one meters. You make it a challenge for yourself to make him cum by the timr you reach the peak.

"Ah, go faster," he furrows his brows, face twisting in pleasure as he leans back on his seat. Your scalp starts to sting from his strong grasp.

Your hand listens, and you suck harder on the head while teasing the slit, and he gasps louder each passing second. He's panting while forty three feet off the ground, and a few moments later, his hips lift off the seat as he groans, his release on your tongue that you swallow. It comes in stutters, so you keep your mouth on him until you've swallowed every drop to avoid getting banned from the amusement park. Calling it simply taboo is an underestimatement.

"Shit, shit," he breathlessly says and thrusts into your mouth two last times before pulling out, a string of saliva still attached to your mouth. The ferris wheel stops. "You were fucking perfect, baby," he murmurs and his head goes limp, eyes dazed from the climax. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and smile despite the ache in your jaw.

"Thank you," you squeak and sit next to him. His head rolls to you. "Is my face okay?"

"Oh, you wore lipstick," he laughs quietly and uses the hem of his matching black shirt to clean up the smudge, his stomach on display from the action. You sit still as he fixes up your appearance, brushing your disheveled hair with his fingers, and just to be extra, he adjusts your collar, making you giggle and roll your eyes. "Like nothing happened. I'll eat you out at my dorm to return the favor."

You blush in surprise at his words, but he dismisses it by looking at the view. The sun has set, and all the lights sparkle from under you and the midnight black sky. It's beautiful. You admire it with him.

"I can't believe I paid extra for this. There's not even fireworks."

BONUS:

Soyeon and Taehyung sit across from each other without averting their gaze from the sky, effectively ignoring the presence of one another until he breaks the silence. "This is so romantic."

"Yeah."

"If we were a couple, this would be the perfect moment to kiss."

"Um... I guess," she shrugs off his unusual flirting.

"You want to be a couple for this ride?" he suggests and looks at her with wiggling brows.

She doesn't return the stare, softly speaking, "No, I think I'd rather jump off."

He chuckles under his breath, "Jungkook is going to have a field day when he finds out you're lesbian."

"Huh?"

"I said why don't you jump on this dick."

#textbook love #jungkook fluff #naisu naisu #jungkook smut #bts smut

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rowyn-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Mending A Broken Heart (Jared x Reader)

Warnings: SMUT, breeding kink, unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it, kids,) oral sex, female receiving, slight praise kink, angst, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of non-con, mentions of cheating, reader has PCOS, fluff, strong language.

Pairings: Jared x Reader

Characters: Jared, Jensen, Danneel, JJ Ackles, Misha (mentioned only)

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: You get a call from you older sister, Danneel, saying that she is in labor. When you arrive, your first niece is being born. You call your soon to be husband to inform him of JJ's birth, only to have a woman answer his phone.

You were on a mission.

You walked with purpose through the hallways of the hospital, not even stopping when a nurse asked if you needed help. You were Y/N Graul. You didn't need help to find your sisters freaking room.

"Ackles." You said, approaching two men. "Padalecki. How's my sister?" Just as the words left your mouth, you heard an ear piercing scream. "That answers that question." You pushed past them and into Danneel's delivery room.

"Ma'am, you can't be in here!" The doctor ordered.

"She's my sister." Danneel waved her off. "She can be here." The mother to be let out another groan of pain. You grabbed her hand, letting Danneel use it to relieve some of her pain. You winced slightly. Your sister had a strong grip.

You didn't understand how women could all over the world could go through this pain. Especially those without epidurals.

"I want Jensen!" She cried.

You nodded, quickly making your way out into the hall. "Ackles! Get your ass in here!" Jensen gave Jared a scared look before following you inside.

"I'm here, sweetheart." He assured her as he took your place. You hid your smile at brother-in-law's kindness. You and Jensen never got along, mostly because you were so alike. You were both hard headed, but you had a big heart. You'd never say, but you secretly liked him.

"C'mon, Dannie," You encouraged, coming on the other side of her. "You've got this. Push!"

Danneel yelled once more, gripping both of your hands and she tried to push. "No! No, no, no. I can't do this!" She whined.

"You can and you will!" You demanded. "You are Danneel Ackles, you are a badass, powerful woman and you will be a great mother! All you have to do is push!"

"Easier said that done!" Danneel barked, her auburn hair sticking to her forehead with sweat.

"We're almost there, Mrs. Ackles! One more push!" And with one last scream, and one last push, Danneel fell back on the bed, panting heavily. There was a small cry that pierced through the room, which caused the three adults to look over at the doctor.

"Congratulations," She smiled softly. "You just gave birth to a healthy baby girl."

Danneel and Jensen shared wide smiles as their newborn baby girl was set into their arms. "She's beautiful." Jensen whispered. "She has your eyes."

"She has your nose." Danneel looked over at you, her eyes filled with joy. "Y/N, can you give us a minute?"

"Of course, Dannie." You kissed her forehead. "I'm so happy for you."

You exited the room, only to find Jared pacing back and forth. "How are they? Danneel stopped screaming. Is she okay?" He asked, worry written across his face.

"They're okay. Better than okay, actually. Danneel just became a mother to a beautiful baby girl." You beamed proudly.

Jared let out a relieved laugh as he surged forward to hug you. You stood stiffly in his hold, unsure of what to do. You weren't used to physical affection, as your boyfriend rarely held you anymore. The last time you had been this close to Jared was at Jensen and Danneel's wedding when you both walked down the aisle together.

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, patting his back awkwardly. "Sorry," He apologized sheepishly. "I'm a hugger."

"So I've noticed." You said, stepping away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some exciting news to share with my family."

You found an empty hallway and began to call every family member you could think of. Gino was first, obviously. You knew how excited he was when he found out Danneel was pregnant. Your parents were next, and then your cousins, aunts, uncles, etc.

You cringed as you looked at the last name on your contacts. Will.

You hadn't been on very good terms as of late. The two of you had been fighting constantly, especially after you found out Danneel was pregnant. You were beyond happy for her and Jensen; they were finally starting the family they had always dreamed about.

Fuck it. You might as well get it over with. It rang three times before it was finally answered. "Hello?" An unfamiliar female voice said.

"Uh, who is this?" You questioned, starting to get defensive. It was four o'clock in the morning in Vermont.

"Lacy," She answered simply.

"And what are you doing with my fiance's phone, Lacy?"

"Who is it, babe?" You heard Will in the background.

"It's your fiance, William. The one that I didn't know you had!" Lacy screamed. "You asshole! I can't believe you cheated! And I can't believe you dragged me into it! We're done!" You felt your throat close up, your eyes began to well up with tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. You kept repeating to yourself. This was the happiest day of Jensen and Danneel's life, you couldn't bring them down.

"Y/N, baby, this really isn't what it sounds like." Will claimed after Lacy threw his phone at him.

"No, Will, I think it's exactly what it sounds like." You whispered harshly. "You cheated. After three years, you cheated on me."

"Well you didn't give me much of a choice, did you?" He growled.

"Excuse me?"

"You haven't let me touch you in almost eight months. What else was I supposed to do? I have needs, Y/N."

"You know why we haven't done anything!" You hissed, tears running down your face. "You know exactly why!"

"Can't you just get over it! God, Y/N, we could always try again!" He yelled.

"Get over it? Get over it?! I lost my baby and you just want me to get over it! I can't just forget about it, Will. I should be having my baby - our baby - in five weeks. July ninth."

"You know what I mean, Y/N. Of course I don't want you to forget about the baby, but we could always try again! It wasn't the end of the world!"

"Yes, it was, Will! You know how hard it is for me to get pregnant ever since I was diagnosed with PCOS-"

"It always comes back to that! 'Sorry, I can't have sex with you today because I feel bloated,' or 'Sorry I'm acting so down, my depression is bad today.' You use PCOS as an excuse to everything!"

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to calm yourself. "It was never going to work, was it?" You said quietly. "We both want kids, but I can't give you that. I can't give you a lot of things, apparently. When I come back, I want you out of my house. I'm going to be staying with Danneel and Jensen for a while. They're going to need some help with the new baby. It's a girl, just in case you were wondering." You hung up the phone, taking in a shaky breath.

"Son of a bitch!" You wailed as you threw your phone against the wall. You slowly slid to the floor, putting your head in your hands. You tried to quiet your sobs by biting your lip, which only caused your mouth to be filled with a metallic liquid.

Get it together, Y/N. You wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm yourself down. You couldn't believe this was happening. Your sister, your best friend, just gave birth to a healthy daughter. You should be celebrating, not crying over your crappy fiance. Ex fiance.

You picked yourself off the floor, grabbing your phone as you did so. Of course it was shattered. You quickly went to the bathroom, your puffy face startling you. You splashed cold water on your face, which got rid of it for the most part.

You made your way back to Danneel's room, where the atmosphere was happy and joyful. Something that made your mood lighten just a fraction. "Hey Mama! How are you?"

"Doped up on pain meds," She grinned. "Having a baby really hurts. I knew it would hurt, I mean, I've seen the videos, but damn, that was awful." You laughed as you brushed her hair back.

"What's her name?"

"Justice Jay Ackles." Jensen answered, bringing your niece forward. "JJ for short. Do you want to hold her?"

You nodded eagerly as JJ was set into your arms. She began to fuss a little, reaching out for her father. "Shh, shh." You cooed. "It's okay, sweet JJ. I'm your Auntie Y/N/N. You'll get to meet the others soon enough. They're going to love you, just like your mommy and daddy love you. You are going to have a whole village looking after you, did you know that? Yeah, you have me, your uncle Gino, that's mommy's brother. Then you have your uncle Josh and Aunt Mack, that's your daddy's siblings. Then of course you have Uncle Jared and Misha. Those are daddy's best friends."

Jared and Jensen smiled at you. You were already so in love with JJ. "Danneel's knocked out." Jensen whispered. "The nurse wants to take JJ up to the nursery while she sleeps." You nodded as you handed over the baby. "Alright, I'm gonna go get us some food. You guys want anything?"

"No, I'm good." You shook your head.

"Same." Jared agreed.

And with that, Jensen left you and Jared alone with a sleeping Danneel. You grabbed your phone out of your back pocket and tried to turn it on. Just your luck, the screen stayed black. That's what you get for throwing your phone at the wall.

"What in the hell happened to your phone, Y/N?" Jared questioned.

"It fell out of my pocket." You lied. "I guess I'll have to buy and new one."

"Damn, that sucks." He frowned. You gave a small shrug, not saying much of anything. "Are you okay, Y/N? You don't seem like yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, normally you like to take jabs at me and Jensen. Hell, the only one you really like is Misha. Plus, ever since you came back in the room, you've been frowning and your eyes are still puffy from where I know you've been crying." You felt your heart sink to your stomach. "I know you don't like me very much, or Jensen, for that matter, but we do care. What's wrong?"

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to sort out your words. "I can't say it here. Follow me."

You grabbed Jared by the hand and led him to where the nursery is. You needed something happy to cheer you up.

"Let me start this by saying that I don't hate you or Jensen." You didn't take your eyes off the adorable babies, but your hand was still brushing up against his. "I have known you both for a while now, and I care about you guys. Making jabs and snarky comments is how I show that I care." You could see Jared smiling out of the corner of your eye.

"I called Will this morning to tell him that Danneel had the baby." You saw Jared's smile fade slightly. "A woman answered his phone, and usually I wouldn't think anything of it. I would make an excuse that it's his secretary or assistant, but it was four a.m in Vermont when I called. Her name was Lacy." Your voice cracked. "And it's my fault!"

"Y/N, it's not your fault-"

"But it is, Jare," You whispered. "It is. I pushed him away for months. Do you know how long it's been? Eight months. It's been eight months, Jared. And Will 'has needs.'"

"That's the dumbest excuse ever." He mumbled.

"This next part. . . I haven't told anyone but Will. Not Danneel, not Gino, not my parents, anyone. So you have to promise not to tell anyone. I'll tell my family once I'm ready, but for now, they don't need to know."

Jared's frown deepened. "I won't say anything, Y/N, I promise. Are you okay?"

"No," You shook your head. "I haven't been okay for a while now." You took a deep breath before continuing. "Last year I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome – PCOS for short."

"Yeah, I've heard of it." Jared said softly, his eyes filled with pity.

"Will and I had been trying so hard for a baby. And when we found out I had PCOS, we stopped. And I was heartbroken. I've wanted to start a family for so long, and to get that news hurt me. And it hurt Will." You felt your hands start to shake.

"One night after I had one too many drinks, I passed out on the couch, and I woke up the next morning in my bed with all my clothes off and Will lying in my bed beside me. I don't know what happened that night, but I know I didn't want it. And four weeks later I found out I was pregnant." Jared's jaw clenched and his eyes held something malicious.

"I didn't care how it happened. I know I should have, but I was just so excited to have a baby. To be a mother. And then when I went to my OBGYN, she told me I had. . . I had a miscarriage."

"Oh, Y/N," Jared said sadly, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"I lost my baby. And I don't know what to do with myself, Jare." You cried. "W-what am I supposed to do?"

You were shaking uncontrollably now, unable to calm down. "That m-might have been my only chance!" Jared swallowed hard as he brought you in for a hug. "I want my baby!" You wailed.

"I know," He whispered as he gripped you tight. "I know, honey. I am so sorry. This is so unfair to you. You deserve so much better than this."

"What if it was my last chance?" You sniffed.

"It wasn't," He assured you as he rocked you back and forth. "There are fertilization treatments, surrogacy, adoption. . . You'll be a mother one day, Y/N, and you'll be the best mother a child could ever ask for."

"Really?" You asked in a small voice, looking up at the tall man. He smiled as he brushed back a piece of your hair and wiped away your tears.

"Really."

You felt your heart beating out of your chest and your breaths quickening. "Jared,"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

He didn't have to be told twice as he leaned down to kiss your lips. He cupped your face with both of his hands, bringing you closer to him. "Mm," He moaned, pulling away. "Not in front of the babies. They're too young to be scarred this way." You laughed as he dragged you away to a bathroom, making sure no one was in there before locking the door.

Jared grabbed you by the waist and gently pushed you against the wall. He wasted no time as he pressed his lips against yours once more. His tongue slid across your lower lip, asking for permission to enter, which you happily granted.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer. Jared put his hand on the back of your thigh, encouraging you to jump. You got the memo as you lifted yourself up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He moved and set you down on the counter.

"Do you want to keep going?" Jared asked, breathless.

"Yes," You nodded, your face flushed. "Please, Jare." He groaned at the nickname.

"I love it when you call me that." He said as he ran kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

SMUT UNDER THE CUT

"And I. . . Love it when. . . You kiss my neck like that." You panted as you began to unbutton Jared's shirt. You ran your hands across his abs and looped your fingers around his belt buckle.

"You are far too overdressed." Jared complained as he tugged at the hem of your shirt.

"Why don't you fix that for me?" You smirked. There was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he pulled your shirt off your body.

You covered your stomach as you suddenly felt shy when Jared's eyes raked over your body. He frowned as he pulled your arms away. "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I- I dunno. It's just. . . All the girls you've been with in the past like Gen and Sandra are so beautiful and I look nothing like them -"

"Let me stop you right there," Jared said sternly. "You are gorgeous and incredibly sexy. Don't you dare compare yourself to them, because they could never be as beautiful as you. Don't let any asshole tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" You nodded slowly, fighting off the smile that crept onto your face. "Good, now let's pick up where we left off, shall we?"

Jared pulled down your jeans and tossed them aside, along with your panties. He looked at you like he hadn't eaten in days and you were a four course meal.

He began to trail kisses up your thighs, getting so close to where you wanted him to be only for him to pull away. "Quite being such a tease!" You growled.

Jared have you a smirk. "Yes ma'am." And with that he pulled you forward slightly so you were sitting on the edge of the counter. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before a wave of euphoria hit as you felt Jared's tongue on your clit.

"Oh-" You moaned, only for Jared to cover your mouth with his hand.

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, would you?" He questioned. You shook your head, desperate for him to return to where he was. "Be a good girl for me and stay quiet." His kissed you on the mouth before going back to eating you out. You bit your lip in attempts to silence your moans.

"Fuck," You whispered as you leaned your head back. Jared began to tease your hole with his tongue, making you gasp and grab onto his long locks.

You felt warmth spread through your stomach and a familiar coil began to tighten. "Oh, god, Jare, please keep going!" You encouraged him. "I'm so close."

At those words, Jared pulled away abruptly, making you want to cry out. "Sorry babygirl, you can only come when I say you can."

You frowned at his words. "Don't worry, I'll make sure you enjoy it." He winked. Jared began to unbuckle his belt; you could see his growing erection through his jeans. "I don't have a condom." He said defeated. "Are you clean?"

You nodded. "What about you?"

"Yeah, I'm all good." He assured you.

"Then we should be fine, it's not like I can get pregnant anyways."

"You never know." Jared said as he nipped at your neck. As he left love bites on your neck, you began to pull down his jeans, revealing his hardon. You pushed yourself off the counter and got on your knees, only for Jared to pull you back up.

"Not this time, kitten. This is about you, not me."

"But I want to make you feel good." You protested.

"Next time, baby." You smiled at the thought of a next time. He quickly turned you around so you were bent over the counter. "You're so wet." He growled as he grinded against you. "All this for me?"

"Yes, Jare. Only for you." You panted, desperate for his cock.

"Good," He murmured against your neck. "I've been waiting a while for this to happen, there is no way I'm letting it go to waste. Do you still want this?" He questioned, wanting to make sure you were still comfortable with it.

"If you stopped now I might have to kill you." Jared slowly pushed into you, as he didn't want to hurt you. You gasped in surprise; you had never been with someone as big as him. He gave you time to adjust to his size. "Move." You pleaded.

Jared chuckled as he slowly began to thrust into you. He grunted at the feeling of your warmth. "Fuck, Y/N." He moaned. "You're so fucking tight."

He began to pick up speed, which earned a moan from you. Jared put his hand over your mouth to silence your sounds, but you could still hear you skin slapping together.

"Oh, fuck." He growled. "I'm gonna cum. Gonna fill you with my seed, make you all round. God, you'd look so fucking sexy carrying my baby." Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his words, causing your walls to clench around his dick. "Would you like that, huh? Being so full of my cum that it runs down you legs."

"Oh, fuck yes." You nodded. "Please, Jared, fill me with your cum. Make me carry your child." You begged.

Jared gripped your hips tightly, (definitely leaving bruises) as he rammed into you. You struggled to keep quiet, as all you wanted to do was scream from pleasure. "You're going to look so good filled with my cum." He purred.

"Let me cum with you." You whined, the coil in your stomach was ready to snap.

"I'm so close." He grunted, sweat dotting his brow. "Cum with me, babygirl. Cum." He demanded.

You shuttered as your coil finally snapped and you rode out your orgasm on Jared's dick. He followed soon after you, blowing his load into your womb.

"Holy shit," You muttered. "That was so fucking hot."

"You're telling me." Jared said as he slowly pulled out, making you feel empty. You began to clean yourself up and put your clothes back on.

You both looked a mess; swollen lips, messy hair and to top it all of, hickeys scattered your neck. You reached up on your tip toes to flatten Jared's hair. "At least our hair covers the bruises." You grinned.

"So, what happens next?" Jared questioned.

"I guess that's up to you." You shrugged. "We can either go on a date and see how this plays out, or we can forget this ever happened."

"I don't want to forget." He shook his head. "I don't think I could forget."

"Good," You smiled. "I was hoping you would say that." Jared grinned as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

"I have a really good feeling about this."

#danneel ackles #jensen ackles #jared padalecki x reader #jared padalecki #jensen and jared #jared padalecki smut #j2m #dean winchester imagine #castiel imagine #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #jack kline imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural fluff #gabriel imagine #jack kline #jack kline x reader

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jonnnysuh · 3 years ago

Text

How To Write Good // Vernon

A/N: It all started with watching Vernon’s English tutor series and now we’re here omg. This is my first series so please give it some love <3 kind of unedited so lmk if there’s any mistakes! PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

PAIRING: Vernon x You

GENRE: enemies to ???, fluff, student!vernon, tutor!vernon

WARNINGS: swearing

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

SUMMARY: There’s the crisp air of campus, the rush of something new, and a four year degree ahead of you. Your college experience doesn’t go off as smoothly as you’d hoped when you fall asleep on course selection day and are stuck with left over electives. Struggling to get through your creative writing class, you have no idea how you’re going to get through this semester. Fate steps in when the stranger you fought in the library might just be your only chance at passing. This is all just part of the college experience… right?

Orange leaves began surrounding the burnt red brick pathway, and the small green hills of the campus quad. Fall was fast approaching, without much warning. The bright summer sky, now often clouds of gray. The wind brushed past you, causing your hair to fly up. Your legs brushed together quickly as you tried to make your way through campus to get to your Writing in the Arts class. You swore to yourself that you wouldn't sleep through course selection but sometimes sleep was an actual priority to you...and it so happened to be on that day. Not your first choice, but definitely miles ahead of Economic History on the list of leftover electives.

You flipped over your wrist to take a look at the time on your brown pleather watch. 8:12.

Professor Hampton was an older woman, who always kept her sandy brown hair in a slick tight low bun. She had enforced a rule that the doors to the lecture hall would shut 15 minutes past the hour. If you didn’t make it then you’d have to get notes from a classmate. Maybe it’d be fine if you had a friend in the class that was actually punctual, but you had often sat alone in the same spot in the far left corner of the class room. Time was definitely never on your side as you reckoned you only had 3 minutes left until your trip downtown was rendered useless.

You swung the thick metal door open, and began pumping your legs forward, not stopping until you reached the top of the stairs. To your luck, the lecture hall was on the exact end of the hallway. As you took longer strides, your gray backpack bounced behind you. Finally arriving at the end of the long hallway, you came face to face with Professor Hampton, who had a scowl so thick you’d think it was drawn on with a felt tip permanent marker. Without an ounce of forgiveness, that old lady secured the door shut, eyes keen on your betrayed face just a few centimetres from hers.

With the little pride you still had, you contained the urge to bang on the door repeatedly and say "OPEN UP."

If you hadn't had time to get ready that day, or missed your bus, dammit this would've been the boiling point that would've driven you to kick the wall. Your saving grace was that there was a cute guy typing away on his laptop in this hallway and you'd be damned if you were about to look a fool.

It was that moment, you knew that if you were going to pass this class without sacrificing a wink of sleep, you were going to have to make a friend that was good at writing notes. And quick.

—

The next day, you navigated your way through the twists and turns of the library, never having had been there a day in your life. You swear you’d gone in a circle at this point. You promised your best friend, Taylor that you’d secure a spot for your impromptu study date. Although you both had good intentions, you knew it was more than likely going to become a gossip session that involved sometimes looking at class material.

Among the rows and rows of occupied tables, you finally found an empty table, situated next to the window that overlooked the architecture and art buildings. You settled in the chair, slipping your laptop out of your tote bag , and typing mindlessly to look busy while you waited for your friend. With a look around the room, you wondered if people actually studied at the library or if they were just faking it like you.

You were so immersed in your game of Tetris you almost didn’t hear the voice that said , “Hey, I think you’re at the wrong table.”

You paused your game and surveyed the empty wooden table you were sitting at. You blinked slowly at the brown haired man. “I was here first.”

“That might be true but I booked it out for the hour.” The stranger stood with a slight slouch, sporting a backwards snapback and a deep green hoodie. He didn't look like the type to hang out around the library- but then again, neither did you. You swear you had seen him before, but you couldn't place where.

Did I go to high school with him? you thought.

What if he was ugly and had a glow up and that’s why I don’t recognize him?

You took a closer look at him.

Nah. I don’t think he’s ever been ugly in his life.

“Look. My name's right here." He leaned forward, showing you his screen.

[TABLE 9] 3:00pm - Vernon C.

You pushed the phone away, unimpressed. "But you showed up late."

"It was only 6 minutes." Vernon scoffed, as if his tardiness would automatically forfeit him from his table.

"Well, have you ever heard of finder's keepers?"

Vernon nodded, his voice pointed. "But have you ever heard of fair and square?"

You tried your best to conceal the fact that you were somewhat amused by his elementary-level comeback.

"Could you look into your great, big heart to share?” You pouted tauntingly.

"Oh, yeah, because you need a table to play Tetris." He responded sarcastically but it was as if he had crept into your mind. You dreaded the idea of being on your feet trying to find another place for your game.

Your best friend rolled in between you two innocently, confused at the interaction at hand. It was like a kid walking in on their mom and dad fighting for the first time… except dad is a Tetris-hating stranger you just met 3 minutes ago.

“Sorry I’m late, Y/N.” Taylor interjected, trying her best to mend the atmosphere with a grin. Vernon's posture went notably straight as he exhaled, returning a sweet close-lipped smile. You couldn't help but notice the way he looked at your friend- you squinted at the shadow of the difference between this Vernon and the one that basically told you to fuck off only moments prior.

Without a doubt, you knew he was suffering from the "Taylor Effect".

Taylor was your textbook girl next door; equipped with a warm demeanour, and a confidence that was endearing rather than cocky. You could tell that Vernon was trying his best not to stare so obviously, but he was failing miserably.

Because everyone gravitated towards her, many found it odd that she chose to keep you as company. Sometimes you thought she stuck around only because your personalities were so starkly different and would emphasize how great she was, but time and time again she proved she was notable on her own accord.

"Did I interrupt something?"

You and the man shared a look.

Vernon had a feeling that if he let you speak first, that you might ruin his chances with Taylor, and there was absolutely NO shot that he was going to tell her what had just happened. You were quick to take advantage of the situation.

“Vernon just wanted to take the tab-“

He shook his head, "No, no, no I was just leaving."

You raised your eyebrow, smugly.

“I'll see you later,” He bid. Your eyes widened as he went closer to you, clasping his hand around yours and pulling you forwards into an almost embrace. He dapped you up. Vernon dapped you up. What? Did he think you were bros now?

Ya, right. You thought. This is my first and last time in this library. You will never see me or my Tetris again.

And with that, he swung his backpack over his shoulder coolly and headed down the long carpeted aisle in the other direction.

Only a few moments later did he return to go through the north exit. “Wrong way.” He mumbled, charting past both of you.

—

“So you don’t know anyone in that class?” Taylor said in disbelief as you two sat at the table you had only marginally won.

“No, I missed the first two weeks so by the time I actually went to class they already had their groups.” you responded, blowing air out of your mouth in frustration.

School had only just begun and Taylor had swept up a bunch of friends, including you, in just this one semester.

You, on the other hand, were awkward, but not in the forgivable way. You never knew the right thing to say, and your sarcasm drew a fine line between a joke and the truth. You felt like you always had to bite your tongue to hold a decent conversation with someone. In turn, this scared a lot of people away, and resulted in a small but good group of friends that understood you.

For some reason though, you did well with confrontation. That was the only time you could force yourself to not care about what someone else thought about you. Other than that, your communication skills were almost useless.

“So go up to those kids and say hi.” Taylor responded.

You knew your best friend was being well meaning, but sometimes she felt like she oversimplified your problems because she saw it through her own lens. Of course it would be easy for Taylor to do so, but for you it would be a different story. Your stomach turned at even the mere thought of introducing yourself to the group of strangers that always sat all the way in the front of the lecture hall.

“I’ll just figure it out. I don't know how to just talk to people."

“What about that guy that I just saw you with? What was that about?”

You cleared your throat, fixing your attention to your laptop screen. Getting work done suddenly seemed more interesting.

“No, no, no look at me.” Taylor dragged your laptop away.

You begrudgingly looked at your friend. “What about him?”

“Who was that? He was kind of cute.” She cupped her cheek with her hand and sat closer, clearly interested. It was rare to see you with anyone other than your usual friend group so Taylor was invested in your endeavours outside of it.

You knew that if you told Taylor about your weird argument with a stranger, that she’d explain that you were unfriendly, that you needed to be nicer, etc. etc. You didn’t need a lecture today.

“Just some dude who finished using the table.”

Taylor chuckled, “What kind of guy says bye like that to a person he just met?”

Her guess was as good as yours.

—

ONE WEEK LATER

Determination is setting 25 morning alarms, pre-picking your clothes and opting for an on-the-go breakfast in order to just make it on time for class. You took your final strides towards the class slowly, knowing you finally had time on your side. Would it be crazy to call waking up at 6am a victory? Doesn’t matter, you were just so happy, you could answer Professor Hampton’s questions… that is, if you listened.

At the bottom of the lecture hall, sat the aforementioned groups, while the top were lonesome stragglers looking at their phones in an effort to look less lonely. You knew they were probably just reviewing their settings; turning their wifi on and off.

Professor Hampton cleared her throat into the microphone at the front of the class, prompting you to pick up the pace to your regular spot at the far left corner.

No way.

Your speed slowed down again, as you craned your head to get a better look at a brown-haired boy sitting by himself.

Despite the numerous empty seats to choose from, your caffeine rush assisted you in making the possibly dumb decision of sitting exactly right next to him. He seemed unbothered, though as he didn’t look up to question it.

Professor Hampton played her slides, while you pulled out your laptop out of your tote bag.

“Hey.” You whispered.

The man’s light brown eyes flickered towards you.

“You’re in this class?” Vernon whisper-exclaimed.

It registered in your brain that this might’ve been a mistake.

You nodded.

Vernon kept his focus on the front of the class, his pencil swivelled away on his lined paper. You had never seen anyone actually take real-life notes before. You scanned his paper, pleasantly surprised at the organization.

“Why did you dap me up last week?”

“I honestly don’t know what I was doing.” He admitted.

Boys do dumb things around pretty girls. You'd seen it happen so many times with Taylor.

“She’s cute isn’t she?”

“Who?” Vernon was quick to play dumb, but he clearly knew.

You were fascinated by how he was writing and listening to you at the same time.

“Taylor—my friend.”

Vernon squinted his eyes, either to think or because he couldn’t see the projection clearly. It made you wonder why he sat in the back of the class if that was the case.

“Yeah, she is.”

Bingo.

You silently relished in your impromptu decision to sit next to a stranger.

“What would you say if I got you a date with her?”

Vernon put his pencil down. “You strike me as the kind of person who wouldn’t do that out of the kindness of your heart.”

You snorted. “You’re right.”

Vernon let out a deep sigh, pushing his hoodie sleeve up his arms. He relaxed back in his seat and stared at you as he waited for your proposal.

“What is it?” His deep voice was littered with impatience but it was clear he was at least curious.

You weren’t prepared to gain his full attention. Your mind went several ways as you collected your thoughts to be as concise as possible.

“I’m struggling in this class, okay? I can’t always make it on time, and creative writing? Not really something I’m interested in.”

“Then why’d you take the class?”

“Why does anyone do anything here? For the credit.” You responded as if the answer was obvious.

Vernon’s raised eyebrows was enough to tell you that he was actually passionate about this subject— which was perfect for you if you wanted to pass the class.

“How do I come into this, though?” His patience running thin from your incredibly interesting backstory.

“If you tutor me up until midterms and I pass, I’ll get you a date with Taylor.”

He shook his head “What if you fail?”

“Then you can take that as a reflection of your teaching skills,” Vernon rolled his eyes. Okay maybe that was a bad joke. “but on the plus side you’ve gained a new friendddddd.”

Professor Hampton gave you two a dirty look on her way back from shutting the lecture hall’s door. Vernon picked up his pencil to look busy and you tapped on your trackpad to turn the screen on.

“And what if I say no?” Vernon said between his teeth, catching the professor glare right at him with her scowl turned up to one hundred.

“Then I’ll shit talk about you to Taylor so you never have a chance.” You threatened. Your mom always urged you to use your brain, and boy, were you using it.

“You want me to teach you how to be creative?”

You shrugged. “I mean, how hard can it be?”

Vernon looked down at his notes contemplating his choices. He was silent for so long that you actually started typing notes.

“Y/N” Vernon whispered. You seemed to be fully immersed in the lesson now. Your eyes absorbing the information... Maybe writing was kind of fascinating.

“Y/N” He tried again, snapping you out of a trance.

“My bad.” you apologized. “I didn’t know the interesting part of the story was called the climax like ew—”

“I can only tutor you on Thursdays between 6 and 8 in the library. Bring your laptop and be prepared to learn.”

You knew you didn’t have class at those hours, so it should’ve been fine, but you also dreaded staying after school longer than you had to.

“What about 4-6?” You pleaded.

Vernon looked offended at your counter offer. “No. 6-8”

“4:30…?” You tried once again.

Vernon snorted at your no-quit attitude. “You wanna pass or not?”

You stuck out your hand defeatedly and Vernon shook on it before either of you could change your mind. Vernon was your new tutor.

Maybe Taylor was right. All you had to do was go up to someone and say “hi.”

And blackmail them. And use your friend as bait.

Making friends was easy.

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maddiwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Beauty is Pain

Pairing: Mostly Platonic!Pogues, mentions of JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You and Kie try to wax your legs yourselves for the first time and accidentally get yourselves trapped in a sticky situation that gets you locked in your room with JJ and Pope while you listen to Sarah and John B fight outside your door. Routledge!Reader.

Note: I got this idea from a Friends episode. If you watched the show, you’ll know exactly which one I’m talking about. Mostly wrote this without the intention of doing a JJ x reader pairing but then I got an idea(: Hope y'all like it!

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning: Language, maybe angst??

For her birthday, Kie was gifted a hard waxing kit. At first you thought it was odd, a Kook like her was better off going to a professional to get evenly waxed brows or a perfectly clear bikini line. But when she asked you to try it out with her, you were intrigued.

You invited her over to your messy home everyone calls the Chateau. Your brother had a date with his Kook girlfriend, Sarah Cameron, which meant you had the house all to yourself. Even though it was just Kie, your best friend of four years, you decided to clean up the place before she got there. Your house was littered in empty beer cans and ends of JJ’s rolled blunts. You noticed John B was drinking more, smoking JJ’s weed, and even sleeping in later than usual. He’s called out of work two times in the past two weeks, and if he does manage to a say hello to you, it’s a grumbled mumble of words you can barely understand. You chopped it up to him just being moody, but there was also a small part of you that wondered if something serious was going on you didn’t know about.

You tried questioning your friends about it. Kie said she had no clue but noticed his change of attitude too. Pope would get nervous when you brought up John B’s name and claimed he didn’t know what you were talking about. Before you could question him further, his dad whisked him away to clean up the store and run a couple of last minute groceries. JJ, your boyfriend, tried to tell you it was probably nothing, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with you when he talked. He busied himself with rolling another blunt or folding the tossed laundry on your bedroom floor. When you called him out on it, he got snippy and frustrated, which just led you to drop the topic because you didn’t feel like dealing with a second moody teenager.

Kie showed up right when she said she would with the boxed waxing kit in her hand. You raised one brow up at it as you tossed the filled trash bag out the door.

“This it?” You said.

“Yes. You haven’t shaved your legs in a while, right?”

“Yeah. It’s been two weeks like you said. JJ says my legs are looking hairier than his. He’ll barely even touch them. One time he called them monkey legs.”

Kie rolled her eyes. “Boys are such hypocrites. If they had to do half the stuff we did, they wouldn’t be complaining at all. They shouldn’t even get to complain about what women decide to do with their bodies.”

Kie continued ranting about how pain is beauty and men will never understand it unless they lived in a woman’s body for a whole month, including the week a woman’s period started, as she set up the kit.

You worked in your room because there was more space for both of you to try your best to be comfortable. Kie plugged in the warmer on your nightstand and mixed the pink wax pellets with a flat wooden stick until it turned to a warm goo.

“Okay,” Kie sat up against your bed’s headboard and patted her thigh to motion for you to give her your leg. “You’re up.”

“Why do I have to be first?” You asked.

You’ve never waxed your legs before. Only your brows and sometimes bikini line and even then, you usually just pluck and shave. Getting your hair professionally waxed was expensive and you tried to prioritize your purchases as much as possible to stabilize the life you and John B still had.

Kie sighed. “Fine, we’ll do it together. Let me just put the wax on you.”

You gave Kie your left leg and she slathered the warm wax up the left side of your shin. You watched as she did the same to her own leg and grimaced nervously when you felt the wax hardening against your skin.

“Ready?” She asked with a teasing smirk.

“On the count of three?”

Kie nodded. “One.”

“Two.” “Three.”

At exactly three, Kie pulled the long waxing strip from your leg and you did the same with hers. A searing hot pain ran up you leg as Kie ripped the wax off, making you bite down a scream.

“Fuck!” Kie screamed up into the ceiling. You looked down at both your legs. There was a thick line of red from where the wax was. “That shit hurts.”

“Let’s try it again,” You suggested. “Maybe we’ll get use to it if we keep doing it.”

Kie nodded. “Okay. Yeah, let’s try again.”

This time, Kie slid two long strips on both your left and right leg. The warm wax felt soothing. You almost wished you didn’t have to rip it off in the first place.

“On three?” You said.

Kie nodded.

On three, you each ripped one strip off your own legs. You cursed against gritted teeth from the pain. You were wrong about getting used to it. You didn’t think you would ever be able to tolerate this pain.

“What the hell? This has never hurt this bad.” Kie said.

“I think whoever gave this to you secretly hates you,” You said to her.

Kie sighed and looked down at the hardening wax still left on your legs. “Well, we have to finish. We’ll just rip them all off really fast.”

“Okay.”

You ripped three out of the four strips that were left at rocket speed, but they all hurt exactly the same. It felt like you were ripping more than just the hair off your leg. You wouldn’t be surprised if you looked down and saw half the layers of your skin ripped off.

You blinked back the tears at the exact same time Pope and JJ busted into your room looking around frantically. JJ was holding a baseball bat and Pope a pan you just washed and placed on the drying wrack an hour ago.

“What’s wrong?” Pope yelled.

“What the hell is going on?” JJ narrowed his eyes at you, surprised he wasn’t looking at you being attacked by an intruder or covered in cuts and bruises. When he first heard you screaming when he and Pope walked into your house, his heart raced a million beats per minutes. His mind wandered to all the different things that could have happened to you. He swore he was going to make you lock your door every day and night now.

But here you were, safe and sound and laying in bed with Kie. Although he could see your labored breathing and clouded eyes, he knew you weren’t in any imminent trouble. His eyes traced from your face down to your legs where a pink strip of wax was still waiting to be pulled off.

“We’re fine. We’re just waxing our legs.” Kie said.

“What are you doing here?” You asked your boyfriend.

“Pope said Kie was here so we came to hang with you,” JJ said absentmindedly. “I thought you were being murdered.”

“It sure felt like it,” You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered from JJ’s protective side.

JJ scoffed. “It can’t hurt that bad.”

Kie tutted her head forward. “Oh yeah? Come here.”

“What? No.”

Kie ignored him and grabbed his arm from across your body and slapped on another slab of wax. JJ hissed from the heat then visibly relaxed.

“Y/N, wanna do the honors?” Kie smirked at you.

You glared at her. “I’m not volunteering to hurt my boyfriend.”

Kie scoffed at you. “What did he call your legs again?”

You clenched your teeth together and nodded once. Kie made her point, and you remembered everything she said about how men will never understand the pain women go through to please not only themselves, but their lovers too.

“Oh, yeah,” You said within a split second and ripped the wax off JJ’s arms. He flinched away from you, rearing his arm back far away from your reach. His mouth was opened in an ‘O’ shape and his brows pinched together. “Monkey legs.” You smirked at him.

“Fuck,” JJ shook out his arm as if you physically lit it on fire.

“It can’t hurt that bad, right, JJ?” Kie mocked him.

Pope laughed at his blonde friend and shook his head. “Stupid.”

“Y/N, you have one left.”

“Shut up, I know,” You rolled your shoulders back like you were getting ready to run a marathon.

“Want me to do it for you?” You nodded. JJ came up next to you and offered his hand for you to squeeze. “Okay. On three. One, two -” Before Kie even said the word three, she ripped the wax off. You closed your eyes and squeezed JJ’s hand hard, until his knuckles rolled in your closed fingers.

“Shit, baby,” JJ crouched next to you awkwardly, trying to mend his fingers back together.

“Sorry,” You huffed. You weren’t that sorry. He called you monkey legs.

You heard the screen door open and close. Figuring it was just John B back from his date, you relaxed against your headboard again and made a promise to yourself to never wax your legs again. Beauty wasn’t worth this pain. You’d rather be monkey legs than go through that again.

Or just simply shave.

“ - And that’s supposed to make this all okay?” Your eyes opened when you heard, not JB, but Sarah Cameron screaming right outside your room. Pope quickly closed your bedroom door as quietly as possible and held up his finger to you and Kie to be quiet. “That’s your excuse?”

Your brows pinched together in confusion and you looked at your boyfriend for some kind of answer. This was the first time you ever heard Sarah raise her voice at your brother. As far as you knew, the couple never fought.

JJ was looking down at the ground and avoiding your stare. His hands were wracked through his blonde strands and resting on the top of his head. He and Pope didn’t look as surprised as you and Kie.

“What the hell is going on?” Kie asked in a hushed whisper.

“I - I was scared. I’ve never done this before -” John B stuttered.

“Here’s some advice. Rule number one. Don’t cheat!” Sarah yelled. You swore you could hear the pain behind her voice.

You gasped in surprise and snapped your head in JJ’s direction. He wouldn’t look at you, which mean he knew about this long before you did. You put the pieces together. No wonder John B has been acting miserable. Who knows how long he’s been holding onto this.

Well...apparently JJ and Pope know.

“What the hell...” Kie sits up straighter. “Is she serious?”

“Did you know?” You asked your boyfriend. This time he did look at you. And he looked guilty as hell.

Your eyes snapped back to the door when John B yelled back at her. “That’s gold coming from you. Did Topper use that same line when you got together with me?”

You physically cringed at the mention of Topper’s name. It may have been a low blow, but John B had a point.

“Shit,” Kie cursed and sped walked towards the door.

You followed in her footsteps and pressed your ear against the door. One thing was for sure, you couldn’t leave your room now. You couldn’t walk in on that. But at least you could be nosy and eavesdrop.

“That’s not fair. I didn’t love him. I loved you. I left Topper for you!”

“You cheated on him.”

“Because I loved you, John B! You cheated on me because you were scared because...why? Because I’m a Kook? I’ve always been a Kook and you’ve never had a problem with that! Not until now!”

You and Kie crouched on the floor so JJ and Pope could hover over you and listen. It sounded like John B cheated on Sarah a couple weeks ago with a Pogue from your school because he got scared of his feelings for Sarah. Rafe got in your brother’s head, telling him how he will never be enough to care for Sarah when she’s no longer reliant on her father’s money. He became insecure and looked to someone who wouldn’t ever think of him like that - someone who would understand him.

John B was in the wrong and your heart cracked for the couple you once swore was going to be the first to get married out of your group of friends. Although you and Sarah had a rocky start, she quickly became the sister you never had. You got along just as much as you and Kie did. Sometimes John B would find it annoying when Sarah would come over to hang out with you instead of him, but the other part of him loved that the two most important people in his life were as close as he was with JJ. You couldn’t imagine him with anyone else. Not even another Pogue.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Sarah asked. She sounded broken and her voice cracked with exhaustion. You wanted to walk out of the room and hug her tightly while yelling at John B for being an absolute idiot.

You heard John B sigh. “I was going to. I regretted it the second it was over and I was afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to leave me over some stupid mistake. JJ and Pope said -”

“JJ and Pope knew about this?”

You and Kie looked up at your boyfriends with the deadliest glare either of them have seen out of both you. JJ took a step back and held his hands up in surrender as if you were holding a loaded gun to his head.

“I can explain -” JJ said quickly as Pope’s mouth moved silently to come up with an excuse.

“I didn’t know what to do! They said telling you would only hurt you -” John B weakly tried to explain.

“Of course it would fucking hurt me! You’ve been lying to me for weeks. You had sex with another girl!”

You heard something shatter before a deafening silence. You waited for John B to say something, praying he was smart enough to say anything that could salvage what little of a relationship he had left.

You didn’t want to make this about you, but you wondered how many times JJ didn’t tell you something because it would hurt you. You wondered if he did anything just as detrimental to your relationship and didn’t tell you because he was afraid you would break up with him.

John B and Sarah continued to fight for another hour. You wondered if John B was worried about where you might be. If you go somewhere without telling John B, you usually text him later in the day to tell him where you are. It’s something both of you started doing ever since your father disappeared. So that if something were to happen, you would know where to look first.

You thought about jumping out your window, but your window frame was rusty. Even if you moved the window up a little bit, the wood would grind against each other, and your cover would be blown. You were getting hungry and JJ was getting antsy, probably afraid that John B would say something more to push him in the dog house. You’ve barely looked at him since John B threw him under the bus.

“Baby...” JJ said quietly to try to get your attention. “Come on, baby, let me explain.”

You glared at him and continued braiding Kie’s hair with your back to the door.

“We had good intentions,” Pope tried to save his own ass but Kie’s look mirrored yours. “We just didn’t want them to break up.”

“Shut up, Pope,” You said for Kie.

“We were wrong,” JJ said, making you advert your attention from Pope to your boyfriend. “I was wrong. It was my idea for John B not to tell Sarah. But the more time I spent with you, I knew I’d never be able to do that to you. It would eat at me inside, and that’s exactly what it was doing to JB. So yesterday I told him he had to tell her. Or else he would hate himself for the rest of his life if he didn’t.” Your eyes soften under his ocean blue ones and your hands fell from Kie’s hair. “I know I would.”

The corner of your lip twitched up into a lopsided grin, and just like that, you were entranced by the blonde Pogue all over again. JJ had his way with words. It’s gotten him both into certain situations and out of other bad ones. But you knew JJ like the back of your hand. You knew when he was lying. He wouldn’t look at you and if you questioned him on it he would get angry. Looking at JJ, you knew he was telling the truth.

“Yeah, what he said.” Pope said, pointing at your boyfriend.

You and Kie rolled your eyes playfully. Pope, on the other hand, wasn’t so great with his words. That’s why it took so long for him to score Kie as his girlfriend.

“Where are you going?” You heard John B yell. He sounded defeated.

“I can’t be here. I need...I need space.”

“Sarah...”

“Please. I just need time to think. Okay?”

Your front door slammed shut and you held your breath, waiting for John B to run after her or break more shit in your living room. But nothing like that ever came. Instead, you listened to John B cry to himself probably somewhere on the couch.

And just like that, you didn’t care about being caught. You didn’t care if he screamed in your face for eavesdropping or calling you nosy and inconsiderate. Your brother needed you, and in that moment, it didn’t matter to you that he was the one in the wrong. At the end of the day, he was your brother. Your blood. Your family. And you’re the one who will always be his rock.

Kie stood up with you and watched wearily as you showed yourself to your brother. John B looked up with wide eyes, surprised to see not only you but the rest of the Pogues hidden away in your room.

He wanted to be mad, but he didn’t have the energy to be. Instead, he cried harder because he hated that you of all people knew what he did and that he was now being weak by crying about it in your living room. He wanted to be the role model you could always look up to, especially now that your dad was gone. And he thought he failed at it.

John B was pleasantly surprised when he felt a pair of gentle arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him into a side hug as you sat on the couch next to him. Kie sat on the coffee table in front of you and rubbed John B’s knee comfortingly. Pope and JJ knew the girls were better equipped to handle John B’s emotions, so they busied themselves in the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers and pretzels and setting them down on the table next to Kie.

Even though John B cheated and created a big mess in not only his life, but the rest of yours too, you were family. You would never leave him on his darkest day and play the blame game. You’ll help him get control. You’ll help him fix it. You’ll help him live his life to the fullest. And that’s what John B loved about you. You never turned your back on him, even when he deserved it.

The five of you spent the rest of the night drinking beer, ordering pizza, and watching comedy movies to get him to forget. Later in the night, you and Kie left to comfort Sarah. You admitted that you two heard the whole thing and would support her with whatever she chose to do about her relationship. You and Kie slept over her house and discussed the pros and cons of her staying with John B. You ate popcorn and applied face masks while Keeping Up With The Kardashians played in the background.

“You know, Kie’s waxing kit is still at my house,” A mischievous smirk pulled at your lips. “We could cause a lot of damage while he sleeps.”

Kie encouraged the idea and Sarah laughed, feeling grateful that the two of you would even come to see her when you both had loyalties to John B. She really did love you guys and would be devastated if her relationship with John B drove you guys apart.

In the end, Sarah ended up taking John B back. It took a while for them to get their relationship back to the way it was, but they loved each other enough to salvage it. John B worked his ass off to prove how much he loved her and Sarah appreciated every second of it.

And as for you and JJ...well you made sure to give him one really good reason as to why he should never cheat on you (;

#jj maybank fic #jj fic #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #john b routledge #john b #kie carrera #pope heyward #pogues x reader #pogues #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot

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no-reply95 · 3 years ago

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So I listened to the Something About the Beatles (SATB) latest podcast today, titled “Dear Friend” with the topic of conversation John and Paul’s relationship in the 1970s. So I was thinking that this would be great because I feel like the primary things talked about when the John/Paul 1970s dynamic is discussed is Lennon Remembers, How Do You Sleep and the PlayBoy interview, maybe they’ll throw in the Lost Weekend for balance if they’re feeling so inclined... I’m obviously exaggerating here but... Firstly, before I start my rant, SATB is a good podcast, they usually have great guests (Erin Torkelson Weber the MVP of course), cover interesting topics and Robert Rodriguez is a good host who’s good at challenging things in the story that don’t ring true.

However, I feel like throughout the Beatles active years and into the post break-up years there’s a narrative that has been established that so many people are wedded to, to the point that it’s part of the orthodoxy of the band. In my opinion the narrative is that from first meeting up until the moment that John died Paul was always doing everything to be John’s BFF, he was always trying to be closest to John, no matter what John said or did, Paul would always be the one to try and mend fences and throughout the 70s he was doing whatever he could to end up back working with John. I don’t think this narrative is completely wrong but I think it’s uneven mainly because, in all this, Paul’s importance to John is completely glossed over and John’s manoeuvring to ensure that he was the most important person in Paul’s life is completely missed. So, I just want to highlight some of the instances off the top of my head where I feel that John showed how much he needed to be prioritised in Paul’s life and how much he wanted to mend fences post break-up, that I feel don’t get talked about often enough:

1) John’s competition with Jim McCartney: There’s a lot of stock put into the John-Paul-Stu triangle but that obscures a weird triangle that, maybe Paul wasn’t even aware of, but I think definitely existed which is John-Paul-Jim. By all accounts Jim didn’t want John around and was against John and Paul’s friendship. Jim had a lot of influence over Paul and had a lot of sway as his sole parent once Mary died and I think John was resentful of that. We all know about the ultimatum John gave Paul when he took the job (that Jim implored him to get) which jeopardised his commitment to the band. In John’s eyes and own words, Paul choosing to quit his job to commit fully to the band was Paul choosing John over his dad. No one (in books I’ve only seen Joshua Wolf Shenk discuss this) discusses how Jim was effectively John’s Stu, someone that obstructed his closeness and ability to influence Paul to the point that over a decade later, post break up, John saw Paul focusing on the band as a victory over his dad. John had a jealously of Paul’s closeness and prioritisation of his family that would rear its head further down the road but, by and large, I rarely see this discussed.

2) John’s jealousy of Paul’s other close friendships: On this front, we hear ad nauseam, about Paul’s jealousy of Stu, which is fine because, even without Paul acknowledging it, it’s obvious from space that Paul was jealous of Stu’s closeness to John but we never hear about John’s jealousy of Paul’s other close friendships. All the Beatles were close to Mal Evans but I think Paul was especially close to him (he was the first Beatle to befriend Mal, Mal lived with him at Cavendish for some time, Mal helped Paul write some songs etc.) which got to John. In John’s own words when discussing Magical Mystery Tour he was “choked” when he found out that Paul had come up with the idea with Mal and Mal’s widow has said that Yoko told her that John had told her (whew Chinese whispers time) that he was jealous of Mal’s friendship with Paul... Then there’s Tara Browne, it’s interesting that despite Tara apparently being really friendly and outgoing John never took to him. Maybe it was because Tara was upper class. Maybe it was because after pestering him for months, Paul chose to do LSD with Tara instead of with John and the rest of the band. Maybe it was because Paul invited Tara up to Liverpool, right after Christmas, to hang out with his family resulting in the infamous moped crash. If I put my tin foil hat on, in “A Day in the Life” when John’s reaction to the death of a man in a car crash is “to laugh” is that meaningful? The song is thought to reference Tara but does that passage give us a glimpse into how John saw Tara? If he’s laughing about Tara dying then it sounds like he really didn’t like him, possibly due to his close friendship with Paul.

3) John’s resentment of Paul’s romantic partners: So this one is interesting... There are quite a few examples to walk through so here goes. We have the incident in Hamburg where Paul is in bed with a woman and John (in the aftermath of Stu’s death and probably high on prellies) comes charging in attacking the girl, cutting up her clothes and basically scares her out of the room, maybe that was just the prellies but there seems to be too much of a pattern to ignore. Then there’s Jane of course, we don’t know a ton about John’s interactions with Jane over the years but it’s interesting that he makes a terrible first impression with her (asking her to describe how girls masturbate) and it seems that their relationship is cordial at best going forward (note how Jane and Paul never go on holiday alone with John and Cynthia in the same way George and Ringo did with their respective partners). Peggy Lipton also tells the story about how when she came to hang out with Paul in 1965, John was really rude to her out of nowhere and asked “what she was doing there” and she seemed to think that John couldn’t understand why Paul wanted to take her to dinner if all he was going to do was fuck her. Then, there’s Linda... John consistently gives interviews in the early 70s when he talks about how in a few years Paul will wake up and leave Linda, according to Ray Connolly John couldn’t believe that Paul was staying faithful to Linda and then there’s other weird occurrences in that late 60s/early 70s period. There’s the fan who claims seeing John about to hit a pregnant Linda before Paul stepped in, there’s John rushing to get married as soon as Paul does (8 days later I think which is WILD to me), there’s John describing Paul’s wedding as a “funeral” in ‘71... What does all this tell us? That John was too busy replacing Paul with Yoko to care about Paul anymore? In my book, it’s John’s fears being realised that Paul would always prioritise his family over him when push came to shove, in John’s mind he had won when he was competing with Jim for Paul but once Linda came into the picture and gave Paul the family he always wanted, I think in John’s mind, it was game over. Maybe if Paul had divorced Linda in the 70s (like John predicted) they would have worked together more, we’ll never know, but in a similar way to Yoko, Linda was a wedge in John’s relationship to Paul.

4) John’s attempts post break-up to reach out to Paul: We hear a lot about Paul reaching out to John in the 70s and not engaging with the feuding anymore, it’s Paul that decides not to respond in kind to HDYS, it’s Paul that invites John to the Venus and Mars sessions, it’s Paul going to the Dakota to see/try to see John, it’s always Paul seemingly who misses John and wants to reestablish their relationship. However, according to May Pang, John was happy to do Bangladesh if Paul was doing it too. According to Ray Connolly, John gave him a letter to give to Paul, in the hopes that Paul would call him. According to Paul and other people involved in the One to One concert, John asked Paul to appear with him during his performance in ‘72. And in the face of the backlash from HDYS, John’s the one going around calling Paul his best friend ,other than Yoko, and sending him Beatles bootlegs for Christmas.

All this is to say that John and Paul did not have this one sided relationship where only Paul cared and wanted them to repair things or where only Paul was looking to manoeuvre a situation so he was closest to John, John also wanted to be the closest person in Paul’s life, he was jealously protective of their partnership (see his angry reaction to Paul not coming to him and only him to help with Eleanor Rigby) he also seemed to fear losing Paul to his family which may have happened in his mind, who knows. Because John’s most famous post Beatles interviews have him bashing Paul and Paul’s had 40 years to talk about how much he loved John, there’s this view that Paul loved John more than John loved Paul or that John loved Paul until Yoko came in the picture, at which point Paul was no longer relevant. If Paul meant nothing to John anymore, why did he even bother writing HDYS, if he was so tuned out he wouldn’t have been bothered by Ram, none of the critics were so why was John all over that album more than a Paul is Dead truther?! Why did Yoko block Paul’s calls to John, they were happy to hang out with Ringo, what was so threatening about Paul? Why, according to Robert Rosen, were John’s diaries full of his obsessions about Paul?? We’ll never know a lot of the answers to these questions but I would love it if more podcasts even acknowledged that these questions exist and acknowledged that Paul was such a huge part of John’s life till his dying day: “we have our ups and downs but I would do anything for Paul and I think he would do anything for me” John Lennon December 8 1980.

Apologies for the rant it seems listening to Beatles podcasts always seems to set me off! But SATB is a good podcast, just feel that there are so many interesting conversations that get missed in favour of the usual narrative time and time again, so close but no cigar!

Thanks to @onesweetdreampodcast and @anotherkindofmindpod for being the only podcast I’ve heard to date brave enough to discuss these questions, I think doing that will give us a much better understanding of the Beatles and how their story unfolded.

By the way most of what I referenced above can be found in @amoralto incredible blog, have fun!

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #john and paul #something about the beatles #dear friend #jealous guy #complex relationships #thoughts #my rants

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yoonia · 4 years ago

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cinnamon bliss ● chapter iii

➬ Subtitle | The long road home to you

➬ Pairings | Kim Seokjin x reader

➬ Genre | Single Father!Jin, Cafe Owner!reader, Unrequited Love!au, Angst, Future Smut

➬ Summary | Ever since the day he walked through the front door of your cafe hand in hand with his sweet daughter on one gloomy afternoon in the middle of winter, he had captured your heart without him even knowing it. All the time, you had chosen to stay in the sidelines, watching him mend his broken heart in silence while he teaches his own daughter that it was okay to be a kid despite the pain that they shared. You know you shouldn’t be so infatuated with him or to let this feeling go any deeper. Because nothing could prepare you when you are forced to watch him move on, completely unaware that he is about to be breaking your heart in pieces.

↳ Ratings | PG-13

↳ Warning | involves grief, emotional battles, slow burn.

↳ Word count | 4,3k words

➥ ⤎ Previous Chapter | Chapter List | Next Chapter ⇢

chapter iii. autumn leaves

The cafe has been void of customers since you put up the ‘closed’ sign about an hour ago. Only you and the new waitress, Nari, are left in the cafe. You have finished packing up today’s leftovers—not that there is a lot of them left from both the kitchen and the display counter, thankfully—and you are now working on the accounting, filing up today’s sale while Nari is at the back kitchen, cleaning up today’s mess.

You have been working at the cashier instead of in the back office, making sure that you would notice it once your ride home is here. But you must have been too deep in your work that you missed out the sound of the front door’s bell ringing and you nearly jump when you suddenly hear a deep voice speaking to you.

“Are you ready?”

When you look up to find Minhyun standing there in front of the counter with a wide grin on his face, you know that he had done it on purpose. “God, you scared me,” you tell him while pressing a hand on your chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” he teases you with a grin still appearing on his face, which only makes you doubt his words even more, but you say nothing and simply shake your head. “Are you ready to go yet?” he asks you again before looking down on his watch. “We should be on the road now if we don’t want to miss dinner.”

Hearing this, you glance at the clock on the wall and grimace. “Oh, damn. I totally lost track of time. I had initially thought it was a good thing that we ran out of most of our baked goods today so I could close up early, but I got too invested in this,” you tell him, pointing on the laptop that you have been using to record the cafe’s accounting. He looks over and you begin telling him about all the recent purchases that you have made because both you and Naeun wanted to try some new recipes to add for this year’s holiday treats. “Give me 5 minutes to finish this up and we can go. I should probably fetch Nari too so she can go before it gets too dark. Do you want something to drink while you wait?”

Minhyun shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. Just had coffee before I left the office. Go ahead and finish up while I sit right there,” he says, pointing at the long cushioned bench attached to the wall.

“Okay,” you tell him before disappearing into the back kitchen to find your young waitress.

Around ten minutes later, you bid your goodbyes to Nari and lock up the door while Minhyun goes to unlock his car, carrying the packed leftover baked goods in his arms to carry home. You keep your eyes on Nari as you watch her walking towards the nearest bus stop, making sure that she would get onto her ride home safely, when you notice an SUV driving slowly towards you. Right as the car reaches the cafe, the window rolls down and Soojin’s adorable face appears.

“Miss _______!”

“Why, hello there!” you call out to her and slowly approach the car when it finally halts. Just as you step closer, Seokjin peeks out from behind his daughter as he sits on the driver’s seat. Your heart skips a beat the moment you see his face, but you cover it with a smile as you cheerfully ask Soojin, “And where are you guys off to?”

“We’re going to grandma’s house!” she squeals out, making you laugh. Seokjin leans over so he could speak to you better and explains, “We’re heading to my parents for family dinner. Decided to pass by this street to avoid the traffic on the main road so we can get there faster.”

“Ah, I see,” you say, nodding. “We’re off to have a family dinner too,” you tell him, tilting your head to Minhyun, who is waiting by his car.

Only then does Seokjin finally realises that you had not been out there alone, and his gaze turns a bit hard and unreadable when he spots Minhyun, though he still regards the man with a nod. You fail to notice this exchange when you already have your eyes on the little girl who keeps hopping in her seat to gain your attention.

“So that’s why you didn’t come to visit today, huh? Were you afraid that you’d be too full for your grandma’s cooking?”

Soojin giggles. “Nooo—Daddy took me to the zoo today,” she says, bragging out her weekend adventure with a wide smile on her face. “But Daddy promised that we can come next Monday!”

“Monday?” her Dad says from behind her, acting surprised just to tease the little girl. “I thought you said that you can wait until Tuesday for your cinnamon bread.”

Soojin looks at him with her puppy eyes, pleading, “I changed my mind. I want marshmallows.”

“Do you, really?” Seokjin teases her, flickering his gaze on you to watch you laughing and playing along. “Fine, we’ll see if we can change it to Monday.”

“Yay!”

You have no choice but to chuckle softly at how adorable her reaction is. Still with a smile on your face, you turn to look at the father sitting behind her just as Seokjin turns his gaze on you. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still. As if you are connected with him right then through the silent exchange of gazes.

Seokjin blinks, breaking the moment when he glances to his daughter and nods his head to you. “Well, we should probably be going and leave you to it. Don’t want to make everyone at home waiting,” he says, giving you his breathtaking smile as he gets ready to drive off. “Have a great weekend,” he calls out to you while nodding at Minhyun who has been watching the exchange silently while leaning against his car.

“You guys enjoy your weekend too. Drive safely,” you answer him, waving your hand at Soojin as she screams her goodbyes when her father begins to drive away.

You remain standing there on the sidewalk as the car makes its way down the street. As they keep getting further away, you suddenly feel a sense of loss beginning to grow inside your chest. You have tried to ignore it before, even when your co-workers at the cafe would tease you about it. But you can no longer deny the way he would make you feel just by showing you his smile and that smouldering gaze of his whenever he is around.

“I think that little girl is officially your biggest fan,” Minhyun chuckles softly as he stands beside you, watching the car disappear in the corner when he over-dramatically sighs. “I don’t think the Dad is quite a fan of mine, though.”

You turn to look at him. “What? Why would you think that?” you ask him, frowning as you try to recall if there had ever been any sign of Seokjin not looking so pleased with him before. But then you quickly realise that it is not too often you would find Minhyun visiting the cafe except for the time he would come to pick you up or when he has time to help with special deliveries. “Oh, wait. Have I never introduced you two?”

Minhyun shrugs. “I don’t remember if you ever did,” he says while trying to recall ever meeting Seokjin and his daughter in the cafe before. “I don’t always step out of the car when I pick you up while the cafe is still with customers, so maybe that’s why there’s never a chance to. I’ve only known about them cause you always talk to me about those two each time they come around.”

Humming to yourself, you realise that you have never truly noticed this. “Yeah, he doesn’t always come on weekends too, so you must have missed each other,” you wonder out loud. “Hmmm, I should introduce you guys next time. Seokjin is really nice, and his little girl is the sweetest thing ever. Extremely smart too. I promise that you’ll enjoy talking to her. I always anticipate their visit because she is always so fun to be around.”

Minhyun raises his brows. “Just the little girl? And what about Dad?”

“Like I said, he is nice,” you answer him with a shrug, before you catch the sight of the sly looking grin coming to his face. “Don’t even dare—”

“I didn’t even say anything,” he teases you, before adding under his breath, “Yet.”

Scowling at him, you give him the hardest glare that you can muster as you point at him, “Good, keep it that way. Now let’s go. You know who Mom would blame if we get to dinner late since I’m not the one driving.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he says, though you can still hear him chuckling to himself as you walk around the car to get into the passenger’s seat.

Two weeks later, you catch Seokjin visiting on a late Saturday afternoon with an extra guest. It isn’t rare for him to have a friend or another family member joining him and Soojin on their little date together. Unlike their regular visits, this has been a new habit of theirs, as Seokjin had wanted to share the one good thing that they both have with the people who matters.

On this particular afternoon, Seokjin and his daughter is joined by a family friend, who Seokjin had introduced you to a few months back when he had first invited him with them.

“I’m this man’s best friend, Jaehwan. But feel free to call me Jae,” the man, Seokjin’s friend, had told you then. On his first visit, Jae had come with his own daughter, who was probably about a year or two older than Soojin. Today, however, he had come to join the father and daughter pair all on his own.

“You guys ready to order? What can I get you today?” you ask them when you come by to their booth to take their order. Both men had been in a deep conversation before you came over, though they still welcome you with a smile on each of their faces.

Seokjin turns to his daughter, who has been flipping through a picture book that her father had just gotten her earlier today, asking her what she would like to have with a teasing smile on his face, since Soojin has always chosen to order the same menu each time she comes in, along with her favourite drink.

Playing along, Soojin acts like she is thinking so hard while tapping on her chin. “Hmmm, let’s see,” she hums, and you just have to hold back a smile at her adorable face when she answers, “I think I would like to have hot chocolate and cinnamon bread.”

“Alright,” you answer while writing down the order into your notes. “And would you like to have some marshmallows on the side of your chocolate?”

Soojin gives you a wide, adorable grin. “Yes, please.”

Chuckling softly, you give her a little wink. “Got it.”

“Thank you, Miss ______.”

While she returns to her book, you take the other orders, even offering the new flavoured muffin that you had just added into the menu when Seokjin asks for a recommendation. “I’ll have those with a latte instead of chocolate, then. Just to have a taste.”

“Sure thing,” you answer him with a smile, before taking Jae’s order—a black coffee and a few cookies, with a box of cinnamon bread to take home for his daughter. “I’ll be right back.”

The cafe is exceptionally full today.

Which is not surprising, given that this is going to be the last weekend on fall season.

Outside, the autumn leaves have shrivelled and withered all over the ground, a sign that winter is already around the corner, and everyone seems to have a palate for something sweet this Saturday afternoon that customers just keep on coming and going, the sale continues to roll non-stop since the moment you opened the cafe in the morning. The cafe’s traffic of patrons has kept you busy that you barely have a lot of chances of coming over to Seokjin’s tiny party at their designated booth. Though you still make sure to give him and Soojin a few short visits to say hi whenever you walk past while helping out your waitress with the customers.

Two hours have passed by, and your favourite guests are still in their booth, one of them has switched their latte for a cup of iced water while the other had ordered himself a second cup of coffee. The two fathers are currently talking to each other, still deep into their chat, while Soojin has long dozed off with her head resting on Seokjin’s side.

You glance at them as you walk past by, carrying a tray of steaming hot drinks and plates of bread for a table nearby. Never one to pry, you don’t exactly feel too curious about what they might be talking about. But the customers you are serving are sitting only a seat away from them, not too close to have your presence interrupting their conversation, but close enough to hear a glimpse of their conversation.

“…but seriously, have you really never considered dating again?” you hear Jae’s speaking in a low voice. They have probably kept their voices down as they continue to speak to each other to keep people from listening in on their private business while making sure their talk wouldn’t wake Soojin from her short nap. But all of a sudden, his question makes you perk up a little, curious to hear more.

It is making you feel slightly guilty for keeping your attention on their talk as you set your customers’ orders down, but you cannot help the curiosity that is suddenly growing in you when you wait for Seokjin’s answer.

In all honesty, this would not be the first time you accidentally hear someone close to Seokjin asking him about the possibility of him meeting someone new. And you may have grown used to hearing his answers, to have him telling them just how much the thought of dating another woman is troubling him just a bit too much.

Something that you can absolutely relate to.

Because you know the kind of wound that his loss had left behind and how hard it would be to heal that from it. Not everyone can fill the void inside you so easily. And you know that he is feeling the same thing. You have come to know that Seokjin has been using these visits with Soojin to fill that void for both of them, and nobody but you can understand his need to keep things simply for the two of them instead of replacing his late-wife so early.

Seokjin sighs briefly before finally answering, “I don’t know. I don’t think I’m ready yet.”

“Really? You sure about that?” Jae chuckles a little. “It’s been what—? A year now?”

You don’t have to look over to them to know that Seokjin is gritting his teeth at the moment when he grows silent. No, not yet, you wonder silently, keeping count of the days in your head. Just like you did many years ago, he must have been counting the days since he had lost her. And as someone who was here to witness the day this beautiful man had come in carrying the pain from his loss while bearing his daughter’s pain at the same time, you can still remember the actual day.

It wouldn’t be a year until next month.

“Not yet,” you hear Seokjin responding with a strained voice then clears his throat. “Almost. It’ll be a year within the next month.”

When both men fall silent to Seokjin’s response, you pull back, already done helping your customer that you send them a smile. After whispering to let them know that they can call out for you anytime they need to, you make your way to the next table to clean up the mess that had been left behind by the previous customers. Just in time to hear them speaking again.

“It’s not too soon. It won’t be, especially if having someone might be able to help you with Soojin too,” Jae calmly tells him. “At least you won’t have to run back and forth in the middle of the day to pick her at school. No need to leave her in the day care center while you go back to work if you have someone to help you watch over her.”

“I can’t. It’s just—” Seokjin sighs. “I can’t imagine replacing her. Not yet. Still too soon, both for me and for Soojin. Maybe once Soojin is a bit older.”

Jae chuckles. “You keep saying that until you end up being too old to care.”

This time, Seokjin joins him, laughing softly at his fiend’s chiding. “Maybe that’s just how it’s supposed to be.”

Once you are done prepping the table, you turn away to make your way back to the counter, stealing a glance at Seokjin as they continue to chat. Seeing him from this distance, you cannot really blame Jae for being insistent in convincing Seokjin to move on and start looking for someone new.

Seokjin has always done the best he could to hide it from everyone else, especially Soojin and those he is close to, but you can see it in his eyes whenever you talk to him. The grief and the agony that he still harbours inside him that would sometime appear in his gaze. You can see it when he would talk about Soojin, or when he mentions anything regarding to his late-wife. You have no idea why he would allow you to see it or why he has no reservations in showing them to you when he barely knows your story, but you have always been glad to take the role, to give him your shoulder to lean on when he needs a friend to share his pain.

Just as you turn to look away, Seokjin’s gaze finds you. For one fleeting moment, his mask shatters for you to see what he has kept hidden underneath, before he puts that mask back on the moment he smiles, showing a brave face in its place, the same face that he wears when he turns back to his buddy once again.

Seokjin’s head is starting to pound with how insistent Jaehwan has been about trying to make him go on a date.

He has always been so stubborn whenever he brings this up. Especially since there is a possibility that Jaehwan might have found a candidate to match with Seokjin and had decided to play matchmaker for that reason alone. Seokjin bites his tongue to hold back from telling him off. If there is someone in this booth who would be eligible to start dating again, it wouldn’t be him, when his friend is another single father and he has been one for even longer than Seokjin has been.

A movement catches Seokjin’s attention, and he looks over to watch you leaving the empty table you had been cleaning and sends you a smile before he let you go back to work. Even as he was chatting with Jaehwan, Seokjin has been stealing glances towards you, secretly watching you work since the moment you left the counter to deliver orders to other tables before moving to clean the empty tables around him.

He tells himself that he only did so to distract himself from Jae’s constant nagging. But then he suddenly started wishing that you could have joined them instead. Perhaps having you sitting here with them would have helped stop Jae from trying too hard to make him agree about dating again.

“What about her?” Jae suddenly whispers once you are away and out of earshot.

“What?” Seokjin turns to ask him. “Who?”

Jaehwan tilts his chin towards the counter. “The cafe owner. She’s pretty, and she seems nice. I can tell that Soojin loves her company too,” he says, grinning wide while he has his eyes flickering between Seokjin’s face and the sight of you handling the cashier. “I can tell that you guys get along easily.”

He is certainly not wrong there, Seokjin silently admits as he steals another glance towards you. His lips turn into a small grin when he sees you laughing with a customer, a young girl on her early teens who seems to be having trouble choosing a cake to take home with.

“Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you?”

Seokjin turns back to his friend, finding him grinning. Shoot, he must have caught it, he curses inwardly for letting himself go, though he has to admit that seeing you so focused on your work truly pleases him.

“She’s a good person. And no, we’re just friends,” he simply says, keeping his face cool and composed before he goes on to tell Jaehwan the reason why he had become so friendly with you. He explains how you had helped both he and Soojin on the first visit he had made to this cafe, right on the day he needed to find a shelter from the bad weather and from the world that had seemed to be closing in on him since the moment he had to witness his late-wife being lowered into the ground.

Jaehwan gives him a grim smile as he listens to his story, before he slyly grins. “Really? So you really do come here for her cinnamon bread, huh?”

Seokjin scowls at his friend and tosses a napkin on his face. “Knock it off,” he chides his best friend, chuckling when Jae falls back on his seat while snickering. Seokjin shakes his head. “She has a family already, alright? I don’t think it’s even appropriate to consider making a move on her.”

Jae shrugs and picks up his coffee. “Fine. I’m just saying. But you really should look for someone like her. It could work, right?”

“Maybe. I don’t know,” Seokjin answers him with a low voice. He looks down at Soojin, wondering if either of them would be ready to allow anyone else into their lives. Then Jae’s words come back into his head, making him admit that someone like you could make it work. He cannot resist thinking about it when he remembers the way you could easily make her smile or laugh the way she used to with her mother when she was still alive.

“So I guess she’s married, huh?” Jaehwan asks, and Seokjin thinks back about a few weekends ago when he saw you leaving the cafe. He admits that he doesn’t really know whether you are married or if you have a serious relationship with anyone.

As he is wondering about this, he suddenly regrets the fact that he had never allowed himself to talk about personal stuff with you to the point that he has yet to truly know a thing about your true story. The only thing he knows is that he recognises the man who was here to pick you up that night. He had seen him waiting for you outside of the cafe multiple times, on the rare occasions where Seokjin had stayed here long enough that he only left the cafe near the time you had to close shop.

As he is making a mental note to confirm this, he looks up to see Jaehwan glancing towards the counter with a conspicuous glint in his eyes. A look that Seokjin certainly does not enjoy seeing, especially when he finally understands just what he had been implying to when he was asking about you.

“What are you thinking now, huh? Just because I wasn’t thinking of dating her doesn’t mean that you can,” Seokjin chides on him, making Jaehwan laughs. Shaking his head, Seokjin can only scoff at what his friend might be thinking. Even if Jae is a single father as he is, his situation is completely different that the one he finds himself in.

Seokjin was there when his best friend was going though his divorce, and had witnessed how it had left him heartbroken to have his family falling apart. And then he had witnessed how easily his friend had moved on, and how he continues to date different people for the past three years while sharing custody of his children with his ex-wife. Which had been the reason why he had become the third wheel on this date, since it is his ex-wife’s turn to share the weekend with their daughter.

Thinking about it, perhaps that was the reason why Jaehwan could find it so easy to urge Seokjin to find a way to move on. The causes of their pain had always been different, and so are the ways in which they have chosen to face them as they continue on living after their worlds had fallen apart.

Still chuckling playfully, Jae teases Seokjin with a wink, “Easy there, tiger. As someone who is so against dating her, you sound so possessive of her already.”

Seokjin shakes his head and tries to ignore Jaehwan’s accusations. With another glance towards you as you are waving goodbye at the teen that you have been serving to, Seokjin tells himself that he simply wants to make sure to keep you from getting into trouble with his best friend, the same way you have been keeping him out of trouble.

Nothing more.

❥ Commissioned by @rm4lyf

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wienerbarnes · 4 years ago

Text

A Certain Romance (5/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,039

Warnings: bit of angst

A/N: 👀👀👀 lol

MAIN MASTERLIST | A CERTAIN ROMANCE MASTERLIST

While he’s strapped into the same suit he keeps finding himself stuck in, the night doesn’t seem to be going as bad as he imagined.

He’s waiting for you to finish getting ready, you did your hair and makeup already, you just need to put on your shoes and jewelry, you’d told him.

He remembers how you weren’t one for fancy, over-the-top restaurants; you made it clear that very first date. It comforts him that while you’re always happy to see friends, you’re not exactly thrilled and he can rely on you if he wants to leave earlier rather than later.

He hears clicks down the hall get closer and closer and he glances over to look at you, a pocket of air catching in his throat that he holds back.

You’re wearing white and Bucky thinks you look like an angel. The sleeves are long and poofy at the shoulders, a tight neckline highlighting your cleavage, and a cinched waist that makes the dress look a little shorter than it is above your knees. Your skin is glowy from moisturizing after the shower you took earlier and images of what Bucky imagines you look like rubbing lotion on your smooth legs flash in his mind.

He hopes he’s not drooling.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer, stud.” You adjust a small strap at your ankle and he’s still trying to find something to respond, anything to stop him from gaping like a fish.

“You look beautiful.” Is all that comes out, and he knows it doesn’t do nearly enough justice to describe how you look.

“Thanks, Buck.” You tell him, visibly taken back at the lack of snark. You were expecting a little teasing, a bit of flirting to dip your toes into what the rest of the night will consist of. While Bucky’s never not complimented you, he does it often, as he does to all of his friends, but this was very… sincere. More sincere than usual.

He finally clears his throat to compose himself a little, “Are you ready to head out?”

You give him a nod and a gentle smile, walking with him to the door to exit. The walk to his car a block down isn’t far, and you laugh when Bucky offers you a piggyback ride, not knowing how you can walk in those - referring to your heels.

You can sense Bucky get a bit nervous in the car when the restaurant enters both of your lines of sight. You wrap an arm through the loop his own arm creates with his forearm resting on the middle console, your hand sliding up to gently squeeze his thick bicep, your other arm resting on top of the curve of his elbow.

“Don’t worry, if the place is too lame, I’ll say my heel’s busted and we can try and leave early.”

“Yeah, you’ll cut through that little stick on the bottom of your shoe with the butter knife?”

“Mhm,” You hum, “And leave Sam with the bill.”

He laughs at that, and laughs more when you follow up with, “I forgot my wallet by the way.”

It’s sooner rather than later that the car is parked and you two arrive outside the Italian restaurant Sam picked. He made sure to look it up this time beforehand, with your help, of course, and sees that while the restaurant is still a bit too fancy for his taste, it’s not nearly as bad as the last one he went to where he met you.

“I know you can’t get drunk, but I’m going to play a little game where I drink every time someone in here does something embarrassingly snooty.” You whisper to him, still holding onto his arm, as the waiter leads you two to the table where Sam and his date are waiting.

“You’ll blackout before the appetizer, I wouldn’t try it.” Bucky begins, but after a second thought, “Actually, maybe if you’re drunk we can leave sooner, drinks for you will be on me.”

You giggle quietly into his arm and shut yourself up as you finally arrive at the table, Sam and his date standing to greet you both.

Kisses are planted on everyone's cheeks and introductions are given out as everyone takes their seat. You sit across from Sam on Bucky’s right, his hand holding yours on your thigh. He’s not sure if he’s holding it for show, if Sam and his date can even see them holding hands, or if he’s holding your hand because he likes the feeling of your skin under his hand.

He knows the answer.

The calamari and salads are Bucky’s friend as it makes less time for talking, everyone enjoying the food. While waiting on the main dishes, though, Sam’s date, a very kind and beautiful woman, asks him the question he’s been dreading.

“So, how are you guys? Sam tells me you guys are a new couple, I love all the gushy details.”

The gushy details, she’s perfect for Sam.

“We met on one of Sam’s set-up dates, actually, and just hit it off pretty well. Nothing more to tell.” You answer, thankfully, and keep it short and sweet, hopefully enough information to change the subject.

“Oh, c’mon, y’all can do better than that.” Sam teases, a sly smile on his face.

To him, he’s teasing his friends about finally finding love after swearing against it. But, to you and Bucky, you’re being forced to tell a story you don’t know. You and Bucky should’ve hashed out some details before this, you think.

Bucky’s not the greatest liar, so he just decides to be honest.

“Well, when we met, neither of us were really looking to date anybody. We were both in a place where we didn’t feel ready for a relationship yet, but we gave it a try with each other anyway. And…” He pauses, putting his thoughts together.

“I was surprised. By her kindness, by her humor, by the way she comforts me, by the way she understands me. I expected another failed relationship, another person that either got tired of me or got fed up with who I am and the baggage I come with. But the failure never came.

“Instead I got this amazing girl, who has just as much baggage as I do and I get to accept it with open arms. I got someone who’s healed me a lot more than she knows.”

He’s sweating, and he reaches for the glass of wine at his side, fixing to do something with his hands and his mouth. Your hand is still in his on your lap, grip a bit looser now, though, and he feels your eyes on him. He’s too scared to look.

“See? That’s the kinda lovey-dovey shit I’m talking about.” Sam jokes, a bright smile on his face at the sight of his two friends, raising his glass towards the middle of the table, everyone else’s joining in a second after.

“That’s real sweet,” His date chirps, “You guys really do look in love. I’m happy for y’all.”

The entrees arrive but Bucky’s no longer hungry.

The drive home has been silent. You’ve been quiet since leaving the restaurant and bidding goodbye to Sam and his date, only holding onto his arm until the two of you were out of their sight. Unlike the walk to the restaurant, where you were whispering in his ear, clutching onto his arm, you didn’t even glance his way.

He feels like he’s about to suffocate in the car.

“Are you okay?” His voice breaks the silence.

You’re quiet for a moment before answering his question with one of your own, “What… what was that back there?”

“It was eggplant ravioli, that’s why it looked a little -”

“Bucky.”

He realizes playing dumb isn’t going to work in this situation. Of course it wouldn’t, you’re way too smart for that.

“What you said… seemed a little too... real.” You finally get out.

His mouth opens and closes again when he realizes he doesn’t have a response. It seemed real because it was real. His face appears to give away his thoughts because the second you look over at him, he’s caught. You sigh and raise your hands to cover your face in frustration.

“Bucky, the whole reason we did this in the first place was because we didn’t want a relationship! That was the whole point!” You say, your voice rising.

“I know that was the whole point,” He says, voice calmer than yours, but his resolve quickly fading as embarrassment floods his body.

“Then?!”

“Then, I didn’t do it on purpose! I didn’t mean to catch feelings, but I did!” He yells.

“Bucky, I -”

“Yeah, I know you don’t want a relationship and don’t feel the same. Don’t worry, I’ll get over it.” He snaps, voice harsh, harsher than he’s ever used on you before.

More silence.

He wants to cry. He feels so embarrassed, and so angry at himself. Why did he say that at dinner? He could’ve lied, he could’ve downplayed it a little more, he could’ve not said anything at all and let you take the reins. Instead he all but confessed his feelings for you in front of your friends.

And if that’s not enough, the argument in the car only makes him feel more embarrassed, the conversation playing over and over in his head as a reminder of much you don’t want him; of how much nobody wants him.

His jaw clenches as he swallows the lump in his throat and he sees you in his peripheries sneak a glance at him.

He couldn’t have pulled up outside your apartment building sooner.

“I’m sorry,” He says after clearing his throat. He uses the last bit of dignity he has left to try and mend at least a few of the pieces.

“Can - can we just forget about it? Please?” He asks, his heart begging for you to agree. He can deal with the unrequited feelings as long as you stick around.

“Bucky, I… I just need some time. To think. About all of this. I just - I can’t be around you knowing you’re in love with me. I’m sorry.” You step out of the car before he can respond, and his eyes close as the door shuts, leaving him alone in the car.

He hears the beeps of the buttons at your door and then a distant click, and he doesn’t have to look up from his hands in his lap to know you made it inside.

He doesn’t drive away yet, though. He looks up at the roof of his car to try and stop the watering of his eyes and lets out a harsh sigh.

He eventually puts the car in drive again and roughly grabs the wheel, taking himself home, unaware that you watched him from the apartment building lobby.

The first thing he sees when he steps into his own apartment is a small plant that you brought him a few days ago. It sits on a small table he has by the door next to a dish for both sets of his keys.

In a moment of anger he grabs the potted plant and throws it as hard as he can across the room, shattering against a cabinet door in his kitchen in front of him.

“Shit,” He curses, going quickly to the kitchen to begin picking up the broken ceramic.

He separates the pieces of ceramic and cups his hands around the dirt to try and put it into a pile for him to transfer into another cup of some kind. A tear hits the side of his palm and he scoffs, annoyed at himself.

“Why the fuck are you crying, it’s just a fucking stupid plant,” He mumbles, voice cracking.

He sees the roots untangled from one another and ripped in some places. The plant is going to die, regardless if he puts it in another pot or gives it all the water in the world. No amount of care will save it.

He sniffs and drops the plant back on the ground, slumping back and leaning against the bottom cabinet under his sink.

“Fuck.” He says to himself, hand coming up to his face to wipe away stray tears.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #marvel #:(

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