#and my brain refuses to engage with anything while i wait | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gavisuntiedboot · 2 years

Text

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Most recent part

Warnings: Dubious consent!!! Please don't read if you're uncomfortable with unclear consent. Mentions of crying during intimacy.

Not really a warning, but in this universe, Ferran is single and not the best person. So the warning is major Ferran character assassination? Sorry Ferran girlies <3

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been enjoying this story so far. I have been waking up to 99+ notifs on tumblr for the last 3 days now and I can't tell y'all how much I appreciate it. So much that I'm typing this next part in the university library (while wearing my Gavi jersey) .

Also I was wondering why engagement was so much higher on part 1 and I found out that the link to part 2 on that post was broken smh.

Pablo Gavi was notoriously hot headed. Everyone knew this - from players to coaches to commentators to the 16 year old girls making TikTok edits of his footage. Everyone knew he had a temper the bubbled over at a moment's notice. Xavi liked to describe him as a spark: volatile, quickly explosive, but just as quick to come back down to a level headed state. This is what made him a good footballer. He could be passionate and powerful on the attack, and then level his emotions to make strategic decisions in a split second.

"Gavi is never nervous when he goes onto the field. He is confident. It is his game."

But Gavi was not himself for the rest of the day. His usual look of disturbance was deepened, eyebrows remaining furrowed together for the entirety of training. The air of boyish charm he always had dissipated, settling instead into an uncomfortable aura that was felt by the rest of the team. Gavi's irritation was widespread. The main target was Pedri, who refused to tell Gavi when he had seen you at a club. It was at Ansu and Balde, who kept you busy for the rest of the afternoon, so you couldn't watch them train. It was at Martin, who was sending so many texts that, in Gavi's opinion, he looked like a desperate little loser that had never felt the touch of a woman.

Gavi's anger did not spare you. It was one of those days where he decided that he just did not trust you. He had them semi-frequently. When he went into your office and his heart started hammering in his chest. Where his skin felt like it was on fire whenever you touched him. When your voice flowed into his ears like honey and clogged his brain and clouded his thoughts. He interpreted these feelings as fight or flight - his gut's way of telling him you were not to be trusted. Why else would he feel like this? The only other time his heart beat so loudly was in the middle of an important match, when he could not afford to make a single mistake. There was something wrong with you, and sooner or later, he would find out what, and these feelings would subside.

Until then, he continued to glare at the wall of the locker room, wet hair dripping onto his forehead, as he waited for Pedri to finish getting changed.

"-and then she started massaging my chest and it was the best I've felt in weeks. Every day I want to kiss the La Liga president for approving women physios. If she keeps stretching me out, I'll be the next Messi."

Gavi's head perked up at hearing this. He knew Ferran was talking about you. It was not the first time Ferran had made some less-than-appropriate comments about you. The first day you had come out to the field to be introduced to the squad, Ferran had been standing next to Gavi and Pedri, letting out a low whistle.

"Look boys, Xavi doesn't want anything to hinder your performance, not even sexual frustration. Look at the present he brought us."

Gavi's face twisted in disgust at the memory. He grabbed his bag and made his way out of the locker room, deciding it was best not to hear Balde's response to the comment. He wished they would focus on their football skills rather than trying to get girls. Gavi had been told multiple times that it might benefit him to get a girl. It's not like he was a blushing virgin - whenever he felt like he needed to be with someone, he went out with the rest of the squad. Pedri and Ferran would be surrounded immediately. They would then pick one of the girls at their feet and ask, "Have you met my friend Gavi?"

When he was at La Masia, it was harder - what woman wants to be brought back to a football academy dorm? But now that he was in the squad and on TV, women were all but crawling into the Uber with him. They came back to his place, begging for him, and he released any frustration he had. This didn't usually take long. Gavi wasn't looking to be a giver or a romantic. When he was finished, he got up, got dressed, handed the girl her clothes, and asking if she needed an Uber to get home. Was it harsh? Probably. The three girls he had done this to had all yelled at him, strings of profanity about his mother leaving their mouths as they walked out the door. But he didn't care. He was 18 and about to be one of the most famous footballers in the world. Like Pedri told him, "Girls will always be there. Focus on your career, and there will always be a line of women waiting to have your kids. Don't create extra stress for yourself."

Pedri executed this well. He was rarely seen out, and whenever he did go out, he could get a girl and be out of the club in a matter of 20 minutes. He was efficient. He didn't let his after hours activities seep into what he did on the field. Ferran was a different story. Some days, Gavi thought Ferran had only stuck with football because he couldn't become a male prostitute. He was always thinking about sex, talking about sex, or hypothesizing how to acquire sex. He was not efficient. He often tried to see how many girls he could take home with him at once. He always came in tired and sore, hangover causing him to move much slower than he should be. He was always making comments about the girls that sat close to the field in Camp Nou, going on about how he could have all of them at once if he wanted. Gavi usually tuned it out. But he couldn't when it came to you. He hated the way Ferran spoke about you. It made his stomach turn and blood boil. Focus on football.

As Gavi stepped into the hallway, he saw you struggling to carry your bag and a large stack of files. He leaned coolly against the wall, bag slung over one shoulder.

"Stealing all the medical records to sell them to the press?"

You looked up at him, arms shaking from the weight of everything in your hands.

"Selling them to Real Madrid. Ancelotti wants to know who has the biggest dick. Come carry these filed before I say yours is the smallest."

Gavi rolled his eyes and took the files from your hands, surprised by how heavy they actually were. He followed you to your car, thinking to himself, 'Does she actually have our dick lengths in our medical records? I don't remember getting mine measure. Is it self reported? No, it can't be everyone would lie.'

"Gavi. Where are you going? This is my car."

Gavi was taken out of his thoughts, realizing he walked too far. He jogged back to you, placing the files in the back of your car. He watched you bend over to arrange the files so they wouldn't slip onto the floor. Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else. You were still sarcastic and loud and treated him like a child. He had no interest in your ass or any other part of you that couldn't help him get better at football.

"Do you need a ride home Gavi?"

"No I'm just waiting for Pedri. The guys were being too rowdy in the locker room and it was giving me a headache."

You closed your car door, sighing with the effort of making sure you didn't damage the files.

"Alright then. I'll see you next Monday." You said over your shoulder, moving to get into your car.

"Next Monday? Why not tomorrow? Where are you going to be for the rest of the week?"

"I have the week off to study for my field training assessment on Friday. If I pass with an 85% or higher, I can start helping the medical staff on the field when one of you gets injured in a game."

"Right. But if the exam is on Friday you should be here for Saturday training."

"I asked for Saturday off. I have a date."

Gavi's head shot up at the statement.

"A date?"

"Yeah. You know Martin? He asked me to go to Cala Bona beach with him. I never really use my vacation days so I thought it would be good. Besides, the team has a match on Thursday. Saturday training will be recovery. I don't need to be there."

Gavi looked at you with the same distressed face he always had.

"Don't you think it's a little desperate of you to take off work for a date?"

You looked up at him seething. He stood with his bag strapped over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, hood up to cover his wet hair. His eyes were stern and cold, the usual fire behind them having died down to leave frigid disgust. You would be lying if you said you didn't know about how the Barca men got rid of their sexual frustrations.

"Oh I'm sorry. Next time, Gavi, I'll be classy like you and have weekly sex in a club bathroom."

You didn't give him a chance to respond before you slammed your door and started your car, the sound of the engine drowning him out. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment. He hated when you did that - when you acted like he was a stupid kid. But in this case he was. You had refrained from getting into a long term relationship during your undergrad in the US because you knew you would be leaving, and you didn't want to drag someone across the world with you. But you were human, and humans love companionship. So you tried your best to find someone who you could love. Or rather, someone who could love you.

University had been difficult for you, and not only in the academic sense. In high school, you only really got close to one boy. His name was Ricardo. He walked in one day in the 9th grade wearing a Barca shirt, and you couldn't contain your excitement. You both got closer throughout your years at school, sharing a passion for medicine and sports. You even planned to go to the US together, so you could have a companion from home. Naturally, rumors swirled that the two of you were a couple, because friendship among teenagers doesn't exist.

In your final year of school, Ricardo confessed that he had been pining after you for the last year. You didn't know what to say. Your gut told you that you didn't like him, but everyone around you said otherwise. Everyone told you that the way he looked at you should make you feel special. That he had been so nice to you for so long that you basically owed it to him to return the feelings. So you went on a date with him (well, if you consider hanging out in his basement watching Netflix a date). Ricardo was not slick with his intentions. He had his arm around you, and pulled you in close within the first 10 minutes of the movie. At minute 30 he started kissing your neck. You tensed up. You had thought about being physical with Ricardo, but only because of all the times your other friends had talked about it. Halfway through the film, your clothes were off. Well, sort of. Your shirt was pushed up, bra pulled down to expose your chest (since he could not figure out the clasps. Both of you had your pants around your ankles.

"Ready baby?" "Yeah, I think so."

Your first time lasted 3 minutes. When he finished he laid on top of you. A tear rolled down your face. Ricardo looked at you, kissing you on the forehead.

"Hey, are you okay."

You nodded, but you didn't mean it. The realization was setting in that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for this boy. Ricardo got a girlfriends soon after, and you spoke to him sporadically before you moved to the US.

In college, you were fun. You were social, drawing people in with the mysterious exotic nature that came from being an international student. This, coupled with the fact that you were close to a lot of the athletes, meant that everyone wanted to get to know you. You got a lot of party invites. You spent almost every weekend at a bar or house or club. Tall gym bros were tripping over each other to serve you drinks. They were eager to grind up on you in a room full of sweaty undergrads, feeling the way your hips swayed to the beat of the Drake songs over the speakers. It always ended the same way. They whispered in your ear for you to go to the bathroom with them. You obliged. The feeling of the sink pressing against your ass was a familiar one. You drove boys crazy, kissing them like you were taking your last breath. You grabbed them by their belt loops, pulling them close into you. You would grab the backs of their necks, playing with the hair on their nape, and let out some (exaggerated) breaths when they kissed your neck. You always ended the encounter the same way. They would ask you, beg you to go back to their rooms, and you would always respond with, "I don't think you'd be able to handle it."

This got you a reputation around school. Some called you "The Pentagon", because it was impossible to penetrate you. Others called you "ice princess", because you could get men so hot and reject them so coldly at the same time. You became the ultimate challenge for every frat boy: who could get you to sleep with them. Men would treat you like a goddess - wine and dine you, buy you presents, confess that you were the woman of their dreams, all for the bragging rights of saying you gave it up to them. Having your emotions played with started to mess you up. You started to believe that no one really could fall in love with the "ice princess". But you weren't going to stop trying.

[Martin Zubimendi]: I can't wait to see you this weekend.

[Martin Zubimendi]: Send your address so I can come pick you up.

[Martin Zubimendi]: A pretty girl like you shouldn't have to drive by herself for an hour.

[Gavi]: Good luck on your exam Doctora

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey y'all, this part is a little shorter, but I wanted to give some background on the characters' mindsets before I start another eventful part of the story.

This part of the story is inspired by the story "7 minutes is never enough" on ao3. It is a Dabi x reader that sent shock waves through my system. So pls go support that author as well!

Thank you so much for all the love on this series. I really appreciate it more than I can say. Always love to hear feedback, so let me know under here or in my asks. Love you all. Will upload the next part when I can.

#pablo gavi x reader #gavi #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi slow burn #pablo martín páez gavira #gavi x you #footballer imagine

508 notes · View notes

justwritedreams · 2 years

Text

Nothing in the way of us | Jaemin

Idol!Jaemin x Reader Word count: 3405 Genre: smut Warning: Sex but vanilla sex, reader is on pill, slight mention of body fluids. MINORS DON’T INTERACT, THIS IS A +18 STORY Author: Maari Note: This is for my best friend Bia that spend the entire weekend suffering over na jaemin and gave me inspiration. Sorry if there are any mistakes, I didn't have time to proofread. Request: Can i hv a request? Jaemin smut fluff where he just come back from work after 1 month outstation and being apart from his gf and the only thing in his head is he wants his girlfriend sm.jaemin clingy and horny af🤣 plus cuddles!Oh yeah I prefer jm top y/n bottom.

⪢ NCT Masterlist

Y/N was staring intently at her boyfriend on the other side of the phone screen while her heart leapt inside her chest. She didn't want to look like a lovestruck fool, but she already missed him.

“So, how was the flight?” she asked, as he sat on the bed after entering the hotel room.

“Long.” he replied and then yawned. “We still have some time to get to the filming location, we won't go until tomorrow morning.”

"At least you'll be able to rest."

“More than I should, actually.” Jaemin lay down on the bed and Y/N frowned.

"What?"

“The staff informed me as soon as I arrived that the city we are going to has no sign of anything. TV, phone. I think only radio.”

Y/N got up from the bed, sitting up better while her brain processed the information.

Wait a moment…

“Didn't you say you were going to stay there for a month?” She remembered and saw Jaemin nod in agreement, closing his eyes as he did.

“I will be without communication starting tomorrow.”

"Oh." she tried to contain the sad tone but even from miles away, Jaemin noticed.

“I know, I didn't like it either. Especially knowing that I won't see your beautiful face every day.” he spoke quickly, seeing Y/N's face turn to a pout of displeasure.

She didn't want to be selfish, she admired her boyfriend's charitable and helpful side and the pride of who he was didn't fit in her chest, but she was sad. She didn't even know if had that right, but she wasn't going to deny it or pretend she wasn't upset.

“A month without your voice is torture, you know?” she complained and Jaemin laughed out loud.

"There's a good side to that." he smiled mischievously and at the same time frightening, the way only he could do, making her raise an eyebrow waiting for the answer. “When the time comes to make up for lost time…”

Jaemin left the sentence unfinished in the air and she smiled, feeling her cheeks burn.

She had thought about what his return would be like even before Jaemin had gone.

“They say that distance increases love.”

"I want to see if you really can handle testing this." she rolled her eyes and Jaemin looked at her offended.

She didn't need to test her feelings for her boyfriend, they were clear enough.

“Are you calling me a pervert?”

She laughed. She hadn't taken the conversation that way.

“Who kept touching me inappropriately under the blanket the day all the dreamies were in the dorm watching a movie with us?” she remembered and Jaemin's smile reappeared.

“Inappropriately? If I remember correctly, you didn't complain, quite the opposite.” he raised an eyebrow quickly and she brought a hand to her mouth to contain an smile.

Nor could she complain, although they could have been caught by the boys who were close to them, Jaemin made her see stars that night.

“And I had missed you.” he justified.

"We just haven't seen each other for two weeks."

“And your point is?

She and Jaemin continued to argue that even though it had been good, it had been very dangerous and they engaged in a long conversation that was only cut short when he yawned once more on the other side of the phone screen, he was visibly tired and still refused to end the connection. She knew why and had the same feeling, a month would be a lot for both of them but they couldn't put it off any longer.

That's why Y/N decided to end the conversation, he would wake up early the next morning and she wanted him to get enough rest because knew the recordings would be tiring, with his disapproval of course. If he could, he would spend the whole night talking to her.

"I love you." he spoke with conviction, his eyes as sad as hers.

She sighed, feeling like crying. She hated goodbyes.

“I love you too, nana.”

[...]

Y/N was bored, needy, a little irritated and anxious.

She was on her last week of vacation and her boyfriend still hadn't returned from his trip, she missed him and still didn't know when he would be back.

Well, she had marked the days on the calendar on top of her desk to get an idea of when he would be coming, but so far she hadn't received any messages or calls, so she figured the filming had gone on longer.

She didn't want to look like a teenager in love who was dying without her lover, but that's exactly how she felt.

It had been more than torture to live without his morning calls, in which Jaemin's husky voice welcomed her, his tight hugs, the silly audios he sent constantly.

Jaemin knew that his voice affected Y/N so any opportunity he took advantage of.

Unwilling to get up and feeling her chest tighten with missing Jaemin, she dropped her phone carelessly on the couch and practically dragged herself to the kitchen when she saw that she wouldn't be able to prolong any longer the fact that she would have to cook.

Too busy finding the pots and ingredients, she didn't hear the apartment door sneak open, turned to fill the pot with water and set it on the stove.

"Hey, angel." Y/N felt every little hair on her body prickling, thinking she was starting to delirious, turned her body around.

Her jaw dropped and her eyes filled with tears when saw the figure of Jaemin standing in the division between the kitchen and the living room, he carried a wide smile and the suitcase was in one hand.

Stammering and not saying anything clear, she studied her boyfriend who had left his suitcase on the floor and placed his hands on his hips.

"What? I don't get a hug?” he complained and she forced her weak legs to carry her towards him.

Y/N ran, even though the apartment wasn't even that big, and threw her arms around his neck hugging him tightly as he staggered backwards from the impact, he managed to stay on his feet and hugged Y/N tightly by the waist, laughing as he buried his face in her neck.

Jaemin lifted her off the floor, wrapping his other arm around her waist and pressing her against his body in a crushing, hot embrace.

She started to plant kisses over his face, still surprised, and felt him put her down, she pulled back enough to face him but still kept their bodies together.

"What are you doing here?" she asked aloud, blinking more than usual. “Why didn't you tell me you were coming back? I would have gone to the airport.”

“I wanted to surprise you.” he smiled widely and proudly, bringing her back closer, their foreheads met and she took a deep breath of her boyfriend's scent, while closing her eyes.

Y/N brought a hand to the back of his head and their noses played softly, making them both laugh and lean over to seal their lips. If Jaemin's stomach hadn't protested so loudly that it echoed through the apartment and made the two of them look at each other seriously and then laugh, accomplices.

"Okay, I guess that's our cue." she spoke before pulling away from him completely. "What do you want to eat?"

Y/N was heading back to the stove when Jaemin hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder and spoke softly into her ear.

"You."

She swallowed and slowly turned to face her boyfriend, he had a playful smile on his face but his eyes said he was serious, and that made her shiver.

A month without Jaemin's touch and she was already there, totally at his mercy just by the breath in her ear and his deep voice. She slapped Jaemin lightly on the shoulder, who laughed again and returned his attention to the stove, but at no time did the boyfriend move away.

It was very hard to control herself, especially since Jaemin was holding her tightly against his chest and the hands on her waist were warm, making her heart race, but she had another priority at the moment and that was cooking.

So while she cooked for the two of them, he cuddled her with his chin resting in the same place, sometimes placing a few very innocent kisses on her neck or cheek.

It was affective, not suggestive.

When the food was ready, Y/N thought that Jaemin would leave her to get the food but he didn't.

"Aren't you going to let me go?" she asked, laughing. But it wasn't like she was feeling bad.

"No." he replied and buried his face in her neck. Y/N was tickled and laughed again, having nothing to say, she served him.

"Sit on my lap." he asked softly.

She just raised her eyebrow in silence, he was clingy and couldn't even judge him because the way he hugged was everything she wanted in the past weeks. Clinging to him without thinking about anything else, just enjoying the time she would have with him.

Her heart beat faster, she was wearing a sweatshirt and pantyhose, as thick as it was because of the cold, the barrier between the bodies would be smaller. Just imagining the friction between her ass and Jaemin's jeans was starting to make her wet.

Jaemin sat down first on the stool and brought her close, afraid to fall off the stool with him, she just joined her hips feeling a shiver go through the back of her neck, as imagined she felt the heat of Jaemin's body and his jeans felt a little tighter than usual, she tried to occupy herself with eating.

As she chewed, turned to feed Jaemin as if he were a baby and when he opened his mouth eagerly and chewed showing how hungry he was, she smiled proudly.

They stayed like that until the ramen was over, neither of them was really in the mood to talk. Well, actually, she couldn't focus on too many things at once while Jaemin's hips were pressed against her ass.

Feeding him was already quite an arduous task and it got even more so when Jaemin reached under the sweatshirt she was wearing and started making random circular movements on the skin of her waist.

When she walked away to wash off what she had soiled, Jaemin complained and his hand pressed for her to come back.

“Oh no, you stay.” he took the opportunity to put his arms around Y/N's waist and squeezed against his body. Y/N laughed.

"I have to clean this." she pointed to the counter and felt Jaemin shake his head as rested his chin on her shoulder again.

"I'll help you later." he promised and she turned her face to face him, the movement made their noses meet again. “Now we have more important things to do.”

"Oh yes? What?" she asked and in the blink of an eye, Jaemin let go of her and put one arm around her knee and the other behind her back, picking her up and going to the bedroom.

Y/N let out a little yelp of surprise, and grabbed Jaemin's shoulder as she was carried away.

"Nana!"

"I've spent a lot of time away from you." he set her on the bed carefully and wrapped his body with hers, propping himself up on his elbows so that all the weight wouldn't crush her.

She raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you said distance made love-" Y/N was interrupted by her boyfriend's hungry, salty lips.

They both sighed and Y/N's hands found the back of Jaemin's neck again as he tasted her lips with desiree, she was so intoxicated that just followed in the same rhythm opening her mouth so that Jaemin's tongue found hers in a way that bordering on despair, she couldn't think of anything but the rhythm their mouths followed evenly and the heat of Jaemin's body that she had missed so much.

How he held her waist, how he sucked her lips, the way she grabbed his hair.

Jaemin ended the kiss with a light bite on Y/N's lower lip and she didn't even have the strength to squeak, she felt her lungs give out from lack of air and her heart was racing so fast that she could feel it against her ribs.

The theory cited by the boyfriend was true but love wasn’t the only thing that increased.

With no patience to wait, not after a month away from him, she pulled him by the back of his neck to start a more intense and warm kiss.

While the tastes mixed, Jaemin hugged her around the waist making the bodies stick together and she took the opportunity to wrap his hips with her own legs and brought him even closer, there wasn't an inch that wasn't being touched by the body from each other.

The room's temperature increased more and more and they didn't want to stop, Y/N's hands found Jaemin's hair and when he forced his hips against hers, no force in the world could control her soft moan.

This seemed to be fuel for Jaemin who kept pushing his hips while devouring her lips and Y/N lost her breath too quickly when she felt her boyfriend's excitement, she couldn't return the kiss anymore which ended up becoming a mess.

He then took the opportunity to focus his attention elsewhere, her neck. He trailed kisses down her cheek, jaw and then sucked the skin off her neck, causing Y/N to squeeze his hair and tug at it, another moan following as his tongue wet her hot skin.

Y/N wanted more friction between their bodies so when her boyfriend eased, she eagerly continued to move her hips against his as Jaemin sucked, bit and kissed her neck.

But as she felt his erection against her flesh pulsing in her panties, she started to get impatient and her hands went to the thin white shirt he wore, pulling it up anyway, she just wanted to get that piece of useless cloth off.

He stopped what he was doing to lift his torso and let Y/N pull the shirt down his arms, throwing it in any corner of the room as she ran her hands over her boyfriend's exposed skin, squeezed his broad shoulders and when went down his back she scratched lightly.

Jaemin squeaked and before he could kiss her skin again, took his hands inside her sweatshirt and his hot palms found her breasts that weren't covered by any bra, he paid due attention and felt his jeans getting wet by the fire coming from Y/N's hips that at this point had her panties and pantyhose soaked.

She got impatient again, brushing her hips against his, Jaemin's fingers left her breasts and went to meet her pantyhose, promptly Y/N moved her legs from his waist and let him take off while she herself took her hands to the hem of the sweatshirt and took it off clumsily and quickly.

Y/N reached for the button on Jaemin's jeans and she hurriedly unzipped, hearing him chuckle hoarsely.

“Someone is eager.”

"I need you." she replied and Jaemin took off his jeans completely.

Y/N wanted to admire her boyfriend's slender body but didn't have the patience for it, her body pulsed in a way that bothered her and only he could make it stop.

But even though Jaemin was just as excited as she was, that didn't stop him from reaching for her wet panties. Y/N held a breath and closed her eyes, moaning his name.

"No..." she bit her lip as her boyfriend started to touch her more precisely. "... teasing."

"I'm not doing anything." Y/N opened her eyes and saw her boyfriend smile with false innocence.

Raising her eyebrow and smiling sideways, she brought her hand to his chest and started down, reaching the waistband of his underwear and feeling him shiver.

"Ok, enough." he sounded impatient and she laughed.

Jaemin removed the two pieces that were in the way between the two and returned to cover his girlfriend's body with his own, he distributed kisses on her collarbone as he adjusted to her entrance but stopped, lifting his head with a frown.

“I forgot the condom.” he spoke, ready to move away but Y/N was faster and hugged him around the waist.

"I'm on the pill, it’s fine." she assured, kissing his forehead to stop him from frowning.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds as he adjusted and when his heat met Y/N's, he went in deep and all at once, he opened his eyes staring at her so hard that Y/N groaned, the combination made her go weak, she didn't have the strength to keep her eyes open.

Leaning on the mattress, he began to move slowly without taking his eyes from Y/N's face who was ecstatic as the bodies met in a sensual rhythm, he seemed to record all the details he had missed in the last month and the face of Y/N contorted with pleasure was too good for him.

"Look at me." he begged low and through clenched teeth, controlling not to groan.

She did so and wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing her hands up to her boyfriend's face and caressing with her thumbs on both sides.

Gently, just as Jaemin thrust into her, she ran her fingers along the length of his face. The texture so well known to her fingertips was caressed from his forehead, through his brows, nose, below his eyes, cheeks.

The devotion with which she gazed only made Jaemin increase his pace and she bit her lower lip, listening to the sound of skin to skin extremely pleasurable, moaning once more.

But she didn't stop this time, she spoke his name as if it were a mantra, to show how much she had missed him and being with him like that, pure and together.

Their noses touched and Y/N gripped the back of his head tightly, wriggling her toes, and he grabbed her waist as if he was holding his whole world there, not tightly but to ensure that he was finally where he wanted and needed to be.

When Jaemin reached a specific point, Y/N felt short of breath and closed her eyes feeling her whole body tremble and heat up quickly, her thighs went rigid and Jaemin brought a hand to her free skin to keep her leg where it was, pressed against his hip as he thrust harder but at the same pace.

She buried her face in his neck feeling her heart practically explode inside her chest and bit her boyfriend's skin as she reached the climax, muffling her scream. She knew he was almost there, her insides squeezing him even tighter and she started talking close to his ear as caressed the back of his neck.

He roared as he peaked and gripped his girlfriend's body even tighter as the hot liquid filled her completely, making her shiver. Jaemin took a deep breath before lying on top of her, who stroked his hair gently.

He pulled out of her and laughed when he saw that a few strands of hair were covering her face, so he brushed them away with his fingers as she closed her eyes at the contact.

Jaemin took the opportunity to hug her around the waist and she settled herself better in his arms, her heart still racing, but she could feel against her back that Jaemin's wasn't that different, he placed a kiss on her shoulder and they stayed like that, cuddled, catching their breath.

“So, do you want to live that month-long incommunicado experience again?” she asked, laughing.

"Never." he was serious, making her laugh. "All I could think about was what I was going to do to you."

Y/N turned her face enough to look at him out of the corner of her eye and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yes?"

Jaemin nodded and kissed the tip of her nose.

“And I didn’t even accomplish half of it.”

“We have all night, nana.”

567 notes · View notes

mannatea · 1 year

Text

Fanfiction writing and posting culture has shifted so much over the last 20 years. Every time I read anything on r/fanfiction, not only do I lose brain cells, but I feel like a huge, huge part of fanfiction culture has moved toward reading only completed works and avoiding engagement at all cost, but particularly until a work is finished. There was a post yesterday by someone celebrating the fact that a fic they had on alert updated because it had "been so long" since the last update: it was a wait of one and a half months.

That isn't that long for a writer with a spouse and/or children and/or a busy career and/or someone busting ass at school and/or a life outside and off the internet.

While a lot of comments did chastise this person for their perceived idea of a long wait for an update, there were also a few comments from readers proclaiming that this was why they never read incomplete works.

Heck, there were one or two (upvoted!) comments about how writers should simply pre-write everything if they wanted feedback.

Don't get me started on the posts by people that read hundreds of fics a week and yet never comment. "Gosh, I wish I there were more fics for xyz." As if there's not something they can do about that by simply commenting on the works that do exist to show the authors the content they made has an audience!

As a fanfic writer specifically, I find this weird attitude toward the creative work of other people more than a bit discouraging (and sometimes deeply uncomfortable). Fanfiction, like fanart, is a social experience. I create a thing and then others engage with it to encourage me to do more of the thing. I am not a machine and I do not exist for your entertainment or pleasure, but the way fandom leans these days would lead you to believe authors and artists exist for the purpose of consumption.

I am a whole person and doing this costs me my time. For a long story, many many hours of time.

I don't think it's asking too much for people who took the time to read a story (and in particular those who enjoy it) to engage with it.

This doesn't even touch the weird "I only read completed fics" mindset and how it feels to see that sentiment echoed as an author.

"Just write it all in advance before posting it then." Do you even know how long it takes to write a story—to write a longform fic with a plot to completion?

Break Open the Sky was 102,000 words long (and this is short compared to a lot of longfics, so keep that in mind). Even if you assume a writing speed of 1,000 words an hour (generous, because some difficult passages will be much slower to write), that is a whopping 102 hours. That doesn't include the time I had to spend to go back and re-read to continue the story. That doesn't include outlining. That doesn't include note-taking. That doesn't including mapping out locations and distance for travel. That doesn't include editing or formatting to post, either, which took hours per chapter.

I have to sacrifice something else to be able to write. No video games, no movies, no books, no television, no nap, no goofing off online.

Comments become a big motivation, especially on a WIP. It doesn't feel like a waste of time then, to get a little less sleep or take a little less time for yourself; it gives the writer something to look forward to: interaction and socialization with fellow fans. And I don't think the cost is that high for a reader compared to the hundreds of hours it might have cost me to be able to show it to them in the first place.

But nope, r/fanfiction is really out there complaining that fics don't update (even though they didn't bother to comment) and that longfics aren't finished before they start being posted (even though they still don't comment as the story is being posted) and then complaining that there aren't enough fics for [ship]/[trope] even though they are really out there refusing to engage in fandom in a meaningful way that might encourage authors whose work they enjoy to continue to create.

TL;DR: creation costs time.

#if you wanna be real technical fanfic has never been free #when the comments stop oftentimes so do the writers #artists are the same way though.#imagine spending 20 hours on a piece of art and nobody ever says anything about it #and you can't tell if they ACTUALLY like it or if they're just looking at it

70 notes · View notes

gaoau · 9 months

Text

Awe Spell

Wicked Witch warnings — none. word count — 1.8k

prev. — next.

He finally managed to work up the courage to knock on the clubroom while [Surname] practiced inside. He wasn't afraid of a random girl with the temperament of a blind chihuahua. Still, it took him longer—months after her outburst—than it should have to make up his mind and stand in front of the door. Where he'd usually settle down on the floor, he instead breathed in deeply and hovered his knuckles over what could possibly be a death trap. The strumming of an acoustic guitar offered the encouragement he'd been lacking.

He knocked and waited. The music halted in a split second. A sigh filled the emptiness and the dread building up in the pit of Osamu's stomach. Footsteps approached. The door slid open to reveal [Surname] and her squared shoulders. Her usual scowl painted itself on her face when she scanned his features, but it quickly softened into bored eyes when she distinguished his grey hair to set him apart from his brother. Osamu's ability to process absolutely anything escaped him as soon as he found her gaze so close to him. He stared into her glazed-over eyes, narrowed and tired. He'd never known what the term heart skipping a beat meant until that very moment.

[Surname] blew out a sigh. "Yeah?"

"Huh?"

"Ya need something?"

He snapped back into reality at the sound of her voice speaking directly to him. He scrambled around in his brain for the right words to answer back. "I wanted ta apologize on behalf of my dumbass brother." He cringed internally at himself for not preparing enough before engaging in conversation with his crush. He couldn't remember if he'd had a different excuse before blurting out insincere apologies.

One of [Surname]'s brows rose while she relaxed her perfect posture. Her arms crossed in front of her chest and she leaned on the doorframe. "Don't worry, all cool with you. I'll only take an apology from your brother. Don't sweat it." Her attention flickered down to her shoes as she recalled the words exchanged between her and Atsumu. "Sorry, I don't mean to take the cheering away from you all, but… I actually can't, so I'll just stay away from yer matches from now on."

Osamu's heart sank. He'd felt it sink before multiple times; that one instance when his parents sternly called his name after they'd found the vase he'd broken, or in the morning of an important exam he had not prepared for at all, or the first time he messed up on the court during a match point. The temperature of his body dropped, a black hole swallowed up his stomach, shivers traveled down his spine. He didn't know he could feel so many different emotions in the span of a mere few minutes by simply interacting with the girl he'd developed a crush on.

It didn't matter if her face or personality hadn't met his expectations—he couldn't remember if he'd had any expectations at all—he simply knew he found peace in the music she played. He refused to even entertain the thought of not having her participate in the cheering squad for his team—for him.

He had it worse than he'd thought.

"Can I stay an' hear ya practice?"

It'd never been this way for him; he wasn't meant to be the one asking other people to stay and watch them do what they loved. People came to him and asked if they could watch volleyball practice, quietly sit on the stands to see him smack a ball around the gym, cheer for him whenever he landed a wondrous spike, leaving his viewers speechless. Now here he stood, staring straight into [Surname]'s eyes as they blinked blankly at him. He noticed the pigments of her irises glistening underneath the artificial lighting and a small scar running across her brow, furrowed in confusion. He wondered what had brought that scar to find a home on her skin. He wished for a chance to inquire sometime.

His heart skipped yet another beat, this time making him worry [Surname] had managed to curse him as well when she cursed his brother. He had it so much worse than he'd originally thought; he only realized it too late when his cheeks warmed up with a childish blush and his gaze shifted away from his dear love as she allowed him entrance to the clubroom. The door shut behind him while he stood frozen in place—he hadn't meant to flinch, but his shoulders bounced involuntarily. Nervousness wasn't something common in his system and yet here it injected into his veins to spread throughout his every muscle.

[Surname] didn't spare him a single glance as she returned to her seat and cradled her guitar close to her chest. Her fingers positioned themselves at the fretboard on pure instinct, showing off the years of practice she carried on the surface of her skin and the depths of her bloodstream. She strummed once, picked at the strings, fiddled with the pegs. Then she found his eyes while he remained standing idly by the door. She raised a questioning brow at him and his stiff figure. "You can sit over there," she informed him with a gesture of her head; a dismissive nod that vaguely motioned to an empty chair off to the side.

Osamu hurried to settle down, glaring at his wobbling feet as he focused his entire energy on not tripping on air. [Surname] started strumming and singing before he could calm his sweating anxiety. Her music played to the beat of his thumping heart, as if she could clearly hear it and decided to mock him for losing his composure so easily. Her hand skillfully brushed over the strings and muted them when she saw fit, her fingers danced on the frets to form heavenly chords that unhinged his jaw, her voice, pristine and firm, reverberated around the room, bouncing off the walls to engulf Osamu in an embrace of harmony.

Twenty seconds of ethereal beauty passed by briefly yet eternally—a fleeting moment so moving, his comprehension for the concept of time vanished into nothingness. He felt inclined to clap and manifest his admiration, but he didn't dare interrupt.

He found himself returning to the clubroom the following day, this time with more than empty apologies she didn't want to hear from him. He held two wrapped onigiris he'd made with his own two hands earlier in the morning. Atsumu had sneered at him for making an extra and even attempted to claim it for himself had it not been for Osamu brandishing his knife with a blank face. He hoped with all his might that any deity above would listen to his pleas and allow [Surname] to consider him at least mildly tolerable.

He couldn't help but chuckle out of nervousness. The clubroom, a shrine. The warm snacks in his palms, mere mortal offerings. His anxious pleas, prayers he wished for the gods to answer. [Surname], the goddess he came to worship.

His knuckles brushed weakly against the door, almost as if he couldn't see the surface standing right before him. A sigh tumbled out of his mouth so he could breath in some more courage. He readied his hand, knocked clearly four times, and— "Osamu?" —his muscles froze at the unexpected sound of a familiar voice. Painfully slow, he craned his neck towards the hallway to meet Ginjima's eyes.

Ginjima struggles to breathe as he slams his fist onto the table, cackling into the night louder than anyone has ever heard him holler in a match. It's really not that funny, but the faint dust of pink present on his cheeks reveals he's had one too many drinks. "I remember this," he manages to wheeze out half-coherently, "You looked so scared."

Laughter travels around the dinner table, shaking guests and hosts alike by the shoulder and drawing tears out from their eyes. Osamu purses his lips to keep himself from smiling, seeing as his family and friends maniacally chortle at the expense of his lovesick high-school self. If anyone's laughter could have any more volume than Ginjima, then it's [Name]'s as she snorts her wine out of her nose. She immediately chokes on air, banging her fist on her chest while scrambling to chug down water.

Osamu peers down at her as his wife gradually loses oxygen. Part of him considers patting her back to help her out, but the other, much more overpowering part is obnoxiously proud of his Miya genes. "Moving on," he clears his throat.

"'Samu!"

"Choke."

Osamu could only stare with wide eyes at his friend, standing as still as his muscles and thumping heart would allow him. He hoped if he didn't move at all, Ginjima would lose interest and turn on his heels. He did not, however, and instead began approaching. Now, Osamu knew better than anyone that among his circle of friends, Ginjima was by far the most reliable. Arguably, he was tolerable, reasonable, kept secrets, and used his last two braincells to their full capacity. But he would've had much rather been caught dead on his kitchen floor with a metal spoon lying on his non-stick pan than tell absolutely anyone about his crush.

Before the poor boy could open his mouth to question the food in his hands, or the door he'd just knocked on, or the fear twisting his every feature, Osamu shoved his own onigiri—because he was most certainly saving [Surname]'s—into his chest and flipped him around. "Here, Gin, have this, let's go." Ginjima protested, but Osamu didn't back down and proceeded to push him towards the stairs with the highest speed he could achieve.

Just as he rounded the corner, he heard the music clubroom's door slide open far behind him. He sneaked a glance from behind the wall, catching sight of [Surname] scanning the hallway with a frown tugging down from her brows. Their eyes met and her gaze shifted back into its usual bored expression. Osamu hurried to set the onigiri on the floor, profusely thanking his morning-self for wrapping it so safely, and nodded at [Surname] with guilt in his eyes—although at the time, she failed to recognize any sort of emotion in them. An apologetic smile and he had already disappeared down the stairs.

"Didja eat it?" Osamu presses. "Hm? Didja, darling?"

"…I didn't."

"Yeah, I'm still hurt 'bout that."

"Please, 'Samu, it was on the fucking floor."

"'Twas wrapped."

"I eat them now."

"Ya better. Still won't forgive ya, though."

"God, I can't believe I married you."

#Wicked Witch #Haikyuu #Miya Osamu #Miya Osamu x Reader #Osamu x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader

7 notes · View notes

selfproclaimedunicorn · 10 months

Note

MORE QUESTIONS

what other fandoms do you enjoy outside of ASOIAF?

Lmao, the big list of Things Misa Enjoys

I very much enjoy anime & manga. I got infected with those brain worms back in high school, & they simply will not leave. Particularly into Sailor Moon, which I haven't stopped thinking about since 1999, (I have OCs for that & a fic I'm gonna one day sit down & plot out beyond This Is The Vibe. I have a few things floating around in my brain, but I just haven't made the time to do anything with it. Maybe since I'm at reception for 6 hours I'll do that 🤷🏻‍♀️) & JoJo's (I also have OCs for this one, but no fic. I do have a homebrewed ttrpg system to run a JoJo's campaign with, though. But I need to finish statting enemy Stand Users & some character design. Also it's not a priority because I have an asoiaf campaign trilogy to finish running). I don't read or watch anything with the quickness, so I haven't watched a ton of newer anime or made that much of a dent in my reading of Berserk, but I do enjoy both newer stuff and Berserk. I even have a couple figures from Demon Slayer, which is probably my favorite newer series? It feels very nostalgic to the series I grew up watching.

I was into the Netflix Witcher series, but I haven't been able to bring myself to finish season 3. No amount of Joey Batey tits or confirmed pansexual Jaskier can really build my hype back up when I've heard the last bit of s3 sucked & I know I probably won't watch season 4. I have collected all but the last book of short stories though, so once I've worked through more of my books I need to give a fair shake before donating I plan to start those & get into The Witcher proper.

The Elder Scrolls is very good & fun, & I know the plots of all the mainline games even though I've only ever actually played Skyrim to completion. I have...I have so many OCs for that. And a fic I'm slowly working on that tells the story of the Dawnguard DLC by way of Lapsed Viglant Of Stendarr & Werewolf Vampire Hunter Are Forcibly Adopted As Serana's New Parents (and also I am confirming Serana as, like, eternally 19 because she feels very teenagery/early 20s-y to me). Fun fact: two of my current very close friends (my Platonic Wife included) were made by way of TES (and then another friend was introduced to me by a TES friend). So, thanks for your service, Todd Howard. Y'know, I guess.

It feels very "What are your hobbies? / Magnets." to say, but, like, dolls in general. I've collected porcelain dolls since I was little (but that collection got pared down massively when I moved from Texas), & I'm currently working through a clean/restore/dress/display of my old Bratz dolls. I've also dropped real adult money on dolls to (out of box, bc it sparks joy) display in my apartment. Specifically the Sasha (my best girl) Rock Angelz repro I waited almost a full year to see drop, Heather Greyson from Shadow High, & The Pride Bratz (I had a giftcard). I need to finish cleaning my old Bratz before I drop money on more though. So I know my shelving situation, lmao.

I am not not into Dragon Age, but I also complain about it all the time. I refuse to engage with it in a multimedia way. What I cannot learn by playing the games/have told to me in those games is simply not for me to know. Just...the way the franchise is handled & how it feels very obvious that Bioware wants to tell an incredibly specific story (while still allowing for character creation?), all the lore decisions they're making that feel like retcons/throw away everything I got invested in early (hello the dwarves & the dalish & Alistair's everything), & the increasing non-optional nature of the comics & books...it brings my blood to boil. The games are fun though! I have fun playing the games! And my personal Warden/Hawke/Inquisitor trios can be pried from my cold, dead hands!

I'm gonna be real, I know much more about Th Old World Of Darkness than Vampie v5, but I am into Vampire The Masquerade. This is, again, a "I have learned everything in bursts of hyperfixation that last a varying length of time," but I would very much like to take one of my two special vampire boys out for a spin one day. Because they're there! They exist & they are appropriately melodramatic, & I love them. Evil, fucked up, Hecata thug & flouncy, Catholic For The Aesthetic Toreador music producer my beloveds 💕

#ask #im also casually into batman & the flash #and star trek #but not enough to really make NOTE y'know

5 notes · View notes

thefoxtrot008 · 9 months

Text

Dialogue Prompts

Here is part 5 of the prompts! Again, we have more storyline creations, but apparently, we're jumping ship, when we have another idea. Anyone else do this? Even though, I generally don't categorize my prompts, this one is more of a fantasy prompt. Anyways, let's go!

"I thought your kind didn't exist." "Yea, you and everyone else."

"I did not come here to babysit!" "Then what did you come here for?"

"You worked for them? Yea, well now you work for me."

"I'm here to train you on everything you don't know." "What makes you think I don't know anything, huh?"

"Shut up and pick up the sword."

"He's going to eat you for lunch."

"Because it is your duty." "Well, fuck that!"

"You have a real chance at making things better than they are right now and you're refusing to take it!"

"You're not a child anymore."

"These are my brothers." "You bring someone like him here?"

"Didn't have much of a choice now did I?!"

"It's a very safe location, no one knows where it is. Except for us of course."

"If your'e going to talk the whole way there, I might just have to find a way to shut you up."

"Don't touch my horse."

"I'm glad to see you. Didn't think that you'd make it through the winter!" "Do you really have such little faith in me?"

"Take a drink."

"And what do they call you exactly?"

"You've gone soft."

"They are not ready for that!" "Don't interfere. Let them figure it out."

"What is the matter with you two?! He is not prepared for the trials!" "Whose fault is that?! If you would stop babying him, he'd get further in with his training!" "If we do it your way, he''ll be dead before he is crowned king!" "Do nothing, watch."

"Don't give me that cliche crap."

"Can you hand me my bag?"

"I'd like to re-register within the system, please."

"You can't make a scene. You're too good."

"Alright, alright. You've made your case, she is one the fourth floor."

"That is not a fair observation!" "And neither is your request!"

"Your butler wouldn't let me in."

"I have to do something big." "You don't have to do anything!"

"Oh dear. You don't know about the policy? The new policy?"

"What makes you think I can fit in that?!"

"You're engaged to the man, not me." "God, don't remind me."

"It would never work."

"Mmm... so close."

"That won't go over well."

"So, you're the brains of this operation. What do you suggest I do?"

"Go! I'll buy us sometime!"

"Yes, well, nobody seems to care about what I want!"

"We're... we're even now. Okay?!"

"More evaluating?! You do realize that I have a life right? I can't wait that long-" "A life that you abandoned, let's not forget. A life that you just started to pursue, only due to certain circumstances."

"I was wondering when I might see you again."

"Packing? Packing for what?!"

"I'm leaving first thing in the morning."

"Hide! In the closet!"

"Not by choice, remind you."

"Do you know who this is?"

"No, they can't do that! Not while I'm around."

"What do I need to do to get this cleared?"

"I'd like to make an appointment." "State your business here, sign and date on the bottom right here."

"isn't there a faster way to get this done?"

"Wait outside will you?"

_____________________________________________________________

And... that's it! This one is a bit shorter than the others... but that's okay though! Enjoy! :)

#my writing #dialogue prompts

4 notes · View notes

stylinsoncity · 1 year

Note

how do you get the inspiration to write on days where... like idk how to explain but like your ideas aren't flowing. You know what the beginning of the fic is, more or less the climax and the end... but to have to be... cohesive is so difficult sometimes. Do you have any advice for that? everything of yours in written so well and WIPs are updates so regularly

thank you! i wouldn't say i update regularly though lol.. usually it takes me at least a month to finish a chapter. but then sometimes it'll take a week or two. i unfortunately do struggle to get my brain going sometimes. i've found that reading really helps. reading other fics or a novel will usually gets me feeling creative.

i've found it also helps to act conversations out between the characters... like i'll do full blown improv skits in the privacy of my home lol.. sounds like a lot but i find that lines and thoughts and scenarios come somewhat easily to me when i'm not overthinking it or just staring at a blank page and waiting for something to come. improvising is a way of keeping your brain active and engaging all your senses, imo... so i would give that try.

the last thing i'd recommend is talking the story through with someone else. like a beta reader, etc... when i'm really stuck, i'll brainstorm with a friend and it's weird how ideas that refused to form when i was on my own will start manifesting when i'm forced to explain my train of thought to someone else.

also this may be toxic advice (bc maybe i'm just lazy) but i think it's okay to wait a little while for ideas to come even if they don't come for over a week or a month even. there are definitely ways to get your creativity going (like the things above) and when i'm fed up with my brain not working, i'll definitely try to help things along. but i also try to be careful not to force anything either. like yeah, an idea might come if i dig for it. but is it the best idea? is the golden idea that might come if i have a little patience with myself? idk!

either way though, if it's been a while and nothing's coming or you're not satisfied w the ideas you do have, i would try the things above.. i hope any of it helps. and i truly get your frustration!

3 notes · View notes

lemonjoonah · 3 years

Text

The Garden Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).

Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.

A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!

...

“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—

You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”

The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.

You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.

The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.

“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...

“No, he’s at work.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”

Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?” You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.

“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”

The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”

“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.” The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.

“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”

“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.

The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.

“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”

“A stake out?”

“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”

You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”

“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”

“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.

Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.

It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.

The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.

And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.

Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.

After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.

Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’

‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’

You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.

‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’

You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.

He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”

“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”

“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry. “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”

“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”

“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”

Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.

“What?”

“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”

“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”

Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”

You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”

“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”

You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”

“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”

“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”

“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”

“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.

Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.

With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.

“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”

His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”

“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”

“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.

“You want to help?”

“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”

“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”

“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”

“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”

“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”

“Yes but-”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”

“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.

The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.

“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...

“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”

“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head. “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”

“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose? “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”

...

You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.

The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside. Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.

After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’

“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”

“Caffeine and water?”

You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”

“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”

“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”

You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”

“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”

“Antagonizing!”

“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”

You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.

“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”

You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”

“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.

“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”

Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.

You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.

“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”

“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”

His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a warm and earthy scent envelopes you. His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.

Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”

“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.

You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”

“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”

The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”

“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.

“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.

Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”

“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”

“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.

“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”

Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.

Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”

You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”

“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”

“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”

“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”

“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”

“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.

“I suppose not.”

“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”

“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”

“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.

“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”

“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”

“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel. Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.

While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.

Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”

“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”

“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.

“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”

“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”

“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”

“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.

“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”

“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”

“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”

He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”

You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.

“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.

“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”

You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid. “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”

“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”

“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”

“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”

“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”

“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”

“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin. “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”

...

You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.

“Sorry for leaving you.”

“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.

“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”

“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”

“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”

“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”

“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”

Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.

While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.

“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”

“He did?”

You nod. A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”

“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.

“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”

Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”

...

When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.

Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.

Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.

“Hungry?”

He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.

“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.

...

You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.

After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth. He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.

Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.

“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”

“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”

“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”

“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.

It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts. And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.

But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.

He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.

As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.

You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”

“It’s not your fault.”

You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”

“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.

“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”

“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”

You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”

“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.

“Then do it.” You demand of him.

He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”

His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.

He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.

Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.

Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.

A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.

He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.

“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”

“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”

You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.

You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.

“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”

“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.

His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.

You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.

His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.

After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”

You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”

“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”

You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”

...

You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.

On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom. A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.

The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.

Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.

A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.

“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”

“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.

“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”

Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”

...

#jungkook smut #hybrid jungkook #bts hybrid au #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts the garden thief #bts smut #jungkook x reader

3K notes · View notes

redpandaramblings · 3 years

Text

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 6

Part 1 Here

Next part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship, Bakugou is a dumbass but so is y/n

Where we left off-

Before Bakugou could reply, the jeweler came back into the room and handed Denki a piece of paper.

“All right sir, here is your receipt! Your ring should be ready in three days.”

“Thanks.” Denki shoved the receipt into his pocket, quickly making his way to the door. “See you around Bakubro. Don't want to be late for my shift.” The door closed behind him with a bang.

Bakugou wasn’t annoyed though. Now he could pick out the perfect ring for Y/N and not worry about Kaminari being nearby. Everyone knows Kami can’t keep a secret to save his life.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep all of this a secret.” Denki moaned into his hands. He was sitting with his head buried in his arms. Y/N reached across the table and gently petted his hair.

“I know what you mean, but I don’t think either of us are in a good position to start telling people.”

Y/n and Denki sat in a secluded corner of a dimly lit cafe. Both of them had this time free and both of them definitely needed to talk. They stood a lot less chance of anyone asking questions if they were just two friends getting lunch instead of them privately going to each other’s apartments.

Denki looked up, giving Y/N a wide eyed expression. “I know, but I wasn’t expecting Bakugou to show up when I was dropping off that abomination of a ring! I just was lucky the jeweler had already taken it to the back. You were right by the way, that thing is absolutely horrendous. Like, was the designer blind?”

Y/N snorted. “From what I’ve heard, great great grandpappy had a lot more money than brains and wanted to impress his omega by shoving as many stones onto a ring as possible.”

“No kidding. I think it can be seen from space.”

“Very likely.” Y/N chuckled before slumping back into her seat with a sigh. “Though I might have an idea about what Bakugou was doing there.”

“Wait, seriously?”

Y/N nodded with a sigh. “Yeah. When I got back he invited me to the summer festival. I’d forgotten about it.”

“Ah shit, yeah. Isn’t that your guys' anniversary?”

“Yep.” Y/N sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Of course he had to pick this time to actually celebrate. We haven’t gone or done anything… God, I think since he became a hero.”

“So you think he was getting a gift.” Denki sat back as the server came, placing your orders in front of each of you. You both murmured your thank yous and waited until the server was out of earshot before resuming your conversation.

“Yeah, he had to have been. Makes me feel terrible, but there wasn’t a good time to… Well…”

Y/n gestured between herself and Denki.

“Tell him that you’ve been betrothed to an omega of much superior looks, breeding, and manners?”

You gave Denki a little kick under the table as he cackled. He grinned cheekily as he poked at his food. “Sorry. Humor is my coping mechanism. I get it though. Timing sucks all the way around.”

You nodded, sighing and taking a bite of your own food. “Can’t say anything during his heat. Then his schedule was swamped, and I had to sort things out with you. Then bam, anniversary that for some reason he decided to remember this year.”

Denki snorted, popping a bite into his mouth. “That’s about the long and the short of it. And we haven’t even begun to figure out how to tell everyone we’ve not only accepted arranged betrothals, but that we’re engaged to each other.”

“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping we could just move to Tahiti and never speak to our former friend groups ever again?”

“A valid possibility. But that means we’d have to learn French and maybe Tahitian. You know I only passed English because Hitoshi and his dad coached me.”

“Fair point.” You sighed heavily. “But I’m really not looking forward to these conversations.”

“They have to happen though. You might have some anonymity to hide behind, but I’d rather my friends not find out about our engagement when they see an article about Chargebolt getting married.”

“Really?” You smirked slightly. “Then you’re going to tell everyone at your agency, hmm?”

Denki kicked you under the table. “Shut up!”

You poked at your food again as the smile fell from your lips. “So… Did you get a chance to think about what I sent you?”

Kaminari nodded. “Yeah. And I hate to say it, but I think you’re right.”

“I thought about it a lot. I hate to leave the area, but it would be too awkward to stay here after everything.”

A few days ago you had sent Denki an email with a list of places that had job openings that would suit both of you. You both loved where you lived, but after everything, how could you stay? There’s no way the two of you could continue to keep living in the same apartment building as Bakugou. That would be cruel. Cruel to whom you didn’t quite want to think about. You spoke up again.

“Any place catch your eye?”

Kaminari nodded. “I was kind of thinking Okinawa. I have a few connections there. Decent distance from here and from our parents. And that would probably be the easiest transition.”

“Works for me.” You said, as if it wasn’t ripping your heart out to do this. It hurt. But it had to happen. In the end, you had to believe this was what was best for everyone. It might take some time, but this was it. This was what would make everyone happy in the long run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinsou was worried. Denki had been acting odd. And that’s saying something. The blond omega was usually loud and bubbly, the life of the agency. At least once a week, he invited Shinsou out for drinks, meals, clubs, karaoke, or some other nonsense. But ever since he’d gotten back from his three day leave, Kaminari had been acting strange. When he thought no one was looking, he was quiet. Withdrawn. Like he was puzzling out the toughest problem of his life.

Denki having a problem? Pretty typical. Denki having a problem and not talking to Shinsou about it? Pretty unusual. The blond had always come to the purple haired alpha with even the simplest of problems. Apartment searches, furniture assembly, what support items would suit his quirk best, even things like what to get from Starbucks. And even though he might groan and roll his eyes, secretly Hitoshi loved every second of it. When he had helped by digging through websites, cobbling together a rickety shelf, or reminding Denki that he always got the most cloyingly sweet items on the menu; Hitoshi got to pretend that he was Denki’s alpha.

Shinsou wasn’t sure exactly when he had fallen in love with Denki. Probably had been since high school at least. His dad had warned him against loud blonds while his father had laughed. But he couldn’t help it. Kaminari had been one of the first people to enthusiastically believe in him. Had always sought him out and wormed his way into Shinsou’s life and heart. And now Shinsou couldn’t understand it, but Denki was pulling away. Even as he watched the blond who was typing up a report on his computer, it somehow felt like Kaminari was slipping right through his fingers.

Shinsou cleared his throat. Kaminari glanced up. “Yeah man? What’s up?”

“You doing okay, Denks? You’ve seemed a little out of it.”

Denki met his eyes, startled, then quickly glanced away. “Yeah. Yep! Totally fine.”

“Denki. I know you.”

Kaminari sighed and slumped on his desk. “Just some life stuff. Family stuff. Friend stuff.”

Shinsou frowned, walking over to place a hand on Denki’s shoulder. “You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Denki snorted and laughed quietly. Shinsou furrowed his brows.

“Yeah” Denki sighed. “I know. But half of it isn’t really my stuff to tell and the other half isn’t exactly worth talking about.”

“You sure? We could go grab one of your obnoxiously sweet coffees after work. Go to mine or yours, watch an old crappy horror.”

“Tempting. Thanks man. I would, really, but I got some stuff I have to do after work. Some other time maybe.”

Shinsou frowned. It was rare for the omega to turn down an invitation for a movie night. Hell, it was rare for Denki to turn down an invitation, end stop. It made him even more worried about his omega… friend. His omega friend. His friend who just so happens to be an omega. Hitoshi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He really didn’t want to ruin the best friendship he had. But he couldn’t keep this up much longer. His alpha had decided on the electric blond long ago, and the omega’s unusual behavior and unhappy scent was driving him wild with the need to protect. He really needed to pull himself together and confess soon.

“Well, whenever you’re free then,” Shinsou said, reluctantly letting his hand fall from Denki’s shoulder. “You know my number.”

Denki nodded and looked up, giving him half a smile. “I do. Thanks Shinsou.”

Shinsou walked back to his desk, his mind made up. He needed to tell his omega how he felt, and soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N twisted and turned, looking at herself in the mirror. It had been a very long time since she’d worn a yukata. It didn’t feel right to dress up like this. But wearing anything else also felt wrong. Everything about this date felt wrong. Like this was the kind of she she did in another life. And now here she was, going on a date with the man she loved. Who she’d always love. And who she’d already decided she was going to let go.

Y/N snorted and fussed with her hair a bit. Maybe she should have just refused this date. Claimed to be sick or something. But that felt wrong too. So, she just had to get through tonight. After all, what’s one more night of pretending everything is fine? Hopefully this could be a good memory from a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be. After tonight, she’d wait a couple days and then talk to Bakugou and let him go like he clearly wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki was going to throw up.

He was going to throw up, right here, all over himself and all over shitty hair, too. His red headed friend was giving him a pep talk as he helped Bakugou into his jinbei. Not that Bakugou needed the help. Or the pep talk. It just was easier to let the squad come over when they had found out about his date. It’s not like he wanted them there or anything. Once Kiri, Mina, and Sero realized he was going to use this date to ask Y/N to be his mate, they had insisted on helping him get ready.

None of them knew about the little velvet box in his pocket and that his plans went further than just asking Y/N to be his mate. Bakugou bit his lip to keep from frowning as he looked over his friends, a certain loud blond conspicuously missing. You wouldn’t hear Katsuki admit it out loud, but he really wished Denki could have been here. He loved the others, and they were great in their own ways. But Denki was his pack’s other omega. He got it in a way that the others didn’t. After tonight, he’d have to make sure to catch Pikachu up on all the news. Hell, maybe he could help his fellow blond finally talk to that purple haired idiot he’d been mooning over for years. Everyone in the pack knew Denki’s family had been harping at him to settle down for quite a while.

Bakugou looked up in time to see Mina coming at him with the hair grease. He threw up his hands.

“Fuck no! Keep that shit away from me!”

“You’ve got to do something about that pile of straw you call a haircut. Besides, Wouldn’t it be nostalgic? Weren’t you interning for Best Jeanist again when you asked Y/N out the first time?”

“Yes, and I’d rather shave myself bald than ever have my hair like that again!”

Mina sighed. “Fine. We’ll do something else. But if I can’t slick it back, you will be wearing eyeliner!”

“IN YOUR DREAMS, PINKY!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You waited outside the entrance to the festival. It was strangely soothing to watch the people flow by, like you were a rock overlooking a stream. There were groups of friends, couples both young and old, families where the laughing children ran ahead of their parents eager to get inside. You gave a small smile at the last. Maybe that could be you someday, a parent getting to see a festival through the eyes of a child again. Though the mental picture was hazier than it used to be. The children you half imagined just blurs of colorful yukatas, instead of loud and stubborn blond haired brats with their father’s eyes and attitude. You huffed a quiet laugh to yourself as a thought occurred to you. If you and Kaminari actually went through with this plan, decent chance the kids would still be blond. The thought hurt a little.

“Y/N!”

You looked up and had the breath knocked out of your lungs.

Katsuki was beautiful. You knew it. Thought it often, even. But tonight he practically glowed. His hair had been tamed into a softer look than usual. The jinbei he wore was the perfect compliment to his skintone. Was that… Yes. Dark eyeliner made his crimson eyes pop. Your heart ached. You’d always love this man. No matter how it tore you apart, he’d always own part of your heart and soul. You smiled weakly and raised your hand in greeting.

“Hey. You look good.”

“Thanks.” Bakugou scratched the back of his head. “Mina got ahold of me.”

“That explains it then.”

“Hey!” Katsuki gently elbowed you in the side before taking his place next to you. “You saying I can’t dress up on my own?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N!” You dodged out of the way as he swatted at you, laughing. Yes. This could be it. One last good night.

“Shall we go in?” You asked, holding out your hand.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Katsuki asked as he walked past you, ignoring your hand.

You gave a quiet smile as you followed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki picked at his food, none of it making it to his mouth. He was going to be sick. He was going to be sick right here and some paparazzi was going to see and take a picture and the big headline tomorrow was going to be “A Puke Worthy Proposal.” He was trying his best to keep up the illusion that everything was fine and normal, but it was rough. It had been a long time since he’d taken his alpha on even a normal date. And this wasn’t any normal date. It didn’t help that things were feeling forced and awkward.

He wanted to hold your hand, but his own hands were sweating buckets. He tried to keep up casual conversation, but that was getting harder and harder as the night wore on. Every sentence he wanted to just blurt it out and get it over with. It was impossible to keep talking about what vendors he recognized when all he wanted to say was “I love you and I’ll always love you and I want you by my side until the sun stops shining.”

It didn’t help that things felt awkward. Almost nothing was feeling easy or natural. It really had been far too long since the two of you had gone on any sort of date. He frowned as he thought about it. It had been over a year, at least. Longer, even. Well, he was going to have to fix that. He’d be able to use some of that pro hero paycheck and spoil you like you deserved. His Y/N. His mate. And soon, his wife.

Bakugou stared at nothing, his eyes going unfocus as he started daydreaming about how spectacular your wedding would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a disaster. You glanced over to where Bakugou stood picking at his food, looking bored. You’d been trying to keep up the conversation, but for the past several minutes you’d only gotten hums or grunts in response to anything you said.

“It’s amazing how they got all those pro heroes to dance nude as one of the main attractions this year.”

Katsuki grunted.

Yeah, he wasn’t paying attention at all.

You sighed, looking down at your own untouched food. You never should have agreed to come. At least this date was proving it to you. This had to end. The two of you didn’t know how to be a couple anymore. It was even clearer that Katsuki wasn’t even interested in trying. You had no idea why he wanted to have this date in the first place. Some bizarre sense of obligation? Maybe his heat had shaken him up enough that his omega needed the sense of normalcy? This issue was this wasn’t normal for the two of you anymore. It hadn’t been for a very long time. You sighed, glancing around for a trash can to oust you untouched dango.

A loud pop caused you to look up. The fireworks were about to start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bakugou looked up at the sound of the first firework.

“Wanna head to the pier?”

You nodded quietly, following him as he led the way. He was sweating so much now that if he set himself off he’d take out half the city.

This was it. It was almost time. The two of you were going to watch the fireworks from the out of the way pier like you had all those years ago. It was at the end of that fireworks show the two of you had had your first kiss. And this time… Well this time at the end of the show he was going to propose and you were going to say yes, and it was going to be perfect.

That is if he didn’t barf before you two got there.

“Hurry up,” he grunted as he picked up the pace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tried not to flinch at Bakugou’s harsh tone. He clearly wanted to get this night over with even more than you did. You tried not to let it hurt.

The pier was empty as it always was. The lack of lighting keeping others away. The first time you had discovered it, it had felt hidden and intimate. Now it felt desolate. Lonely.

You walked up to the railing and stared at the sky. The fireworks didn’t feel magical anymore either. Your fingers wrapped around the railing as you glanced to the side. Bakugou wasn’t even looking up. He was staring at the reflections of flashes in the dark swirling water below.

You couldn’t do this anymore.

No more.

The fireworks illuminated you as your grip on the railing tightened until your knuckles turned white.

“Katsuki?”

“”What?” He asked roughly, barely glancing your way.

“Let’s break up.”

And that was Part 6, my darlings! Hope you're enjoying the drama, because there's more angst on the way! You can scream at me about the cliffhanger in replies, reblogs, tags or asks. :P

TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @luajosephdun-blog, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness, @lonelyheart-clubband, @katsuki-cait, @moonwritters26, @animexholic, @kyrah-williams, @emilymikado, @wolvesblaxe360, @ficklemcselfish, @helena-way07, @fandomsaremylifesposts, @baby-bakuhoe, @sukeraa, l@ucypevensie11, @idk-sam, @katsuki-cait, @weirdestlove, @sasa-slayer, @anime-for-live, @kaidousimp, @bluesdustyflames, @vitheria, @milktea0208, @maristaymulti, @whatdidshesayyy, @memesbyeloise , @fandomsgotmefucked, @killmehe, @shy-panda02 Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I’d have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

#reader insert #bnha reader insert #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou angst #bakugou x reader #reader insert angst #bakugou katsuki #katsuki x reader #omegaverse #omega bakugou #alpha reader #multi part fic #denki #fake dating #fake engagement #part 6

479 notes · View notes

coweye · 3 years

Note

Hi sorry to bother u but have you deleted your rick flag x you story? I was looking for it and cant seem to find it and you don't have a masterlist...🖤

Hiya, I've only got one fic so I'm afraid a Masterlist seems abit redundant at this point anon 💕 but no, it was an accidental delete - I'm a dumbass who deleted it when trying to remove a timezone reblog - it hurt my soul as it was my first fic back but we move. I'll repost it under here to ease my tears.

Repost of this fic

LOVE HURTS

Rick Flag x Reader

Pairing: Rick Flag x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ SMUT. VIOLENCE. It’s all just smut. Face Sitting, Consensual Choking. Physical Fighting in a relationship.

Summary: You and your lover Rick Flag do some squad conflict resolution.

Note: This is my first fic back after a long time off - so apologies for any errors. Sorry I’m late to the party but this brain nugget wouldn’t come out.You couldn’t begin to understand how you got here - Peacemakers blood staining your gloves - now at odds with the man before you.

⇢MASTERLIST

You couldn’t begin to understand how you got here - Peacemakers blood staining your gloves burgundy - now at odds with the man before you.

The minutes before the red clouded your vision were dashed from your mind as the arms of your lover now attempted to subdue you.

All that mattered was that drive. To you and him both - though for very different reasons.

“It’s my freedom, Flag. It’s Harley’s, Cleo’s - it's Du’Bois!” You cried out unevenly as your breath continued evading you, despite now having distance from the six foot three mass of muscle - oxygen still remained out of reach.

“How can you be so Goddamn selfish?! They experimented on kids!” The usual hard southern drawl was broken with disbelief as his eyes were filled with rage, angry tears gathered, for both the country he served and your betrayal.

“They’re dead! There’s nothing we can do for them now - but Waller, she's gonna’ just keep using me - it’s never going to end, Rick. Please.” You all but fell to your knees before the man as your usually hollow voice was filled with emotion.

The drive rested in your belt, an escape was all that you needed; for him to look the other way so that you could be together outside of the walls of Belle Reve. Though as he stared you down, resolve present in the unrelenting square of his shoulders, you knew in an instant that wasn’t going to happen today.

“Last chance.” You utter, voice barely above a whisper.

For the first time in your life you’re the voice of reason, but Rick has no reply, no argument left for you.

His shotgun has been dropped to the floor - abandoned and kicked to the side - you should be relieved he doesn’t plan pumping your ass full of lead - yet you can’t feel anything beside the nausea for what’s about to happen.

Colonel Rick Flag has made you soft.

There was a time not so long ago you'd have snapped his neck like a wishbone at Christmas without a second thought, but here you stood; immobile. Waiting for him to move first, unwilling to be the one to destroy this fragile thing the two of you have between you.

He steps towards you, once again attempting to subdue rather than cause any damage, but he’s furious, angrier than you’ve ever seen him before and his rage only grows at your refusal to engage him. A side step here, a rebuff with a palm to his chest there. It all piles onto the fire stoked within him.

In a fit of frustration he strikes blindly, catching your lower jaw. The force of it slams your mouth closed, forcing your teeth together with your lip still hostage.

Your split lip gushes blood into your mouth, the steady trickle overflows, slowly leaking from your numbing orifice. The tinge of pain blossoms as a sting that radiates through your teeth as you palm the aching spot.

It doesn't hurt nearly as much as it should, physically.

The disbelief must shine in your eyes as you look at the man you'd shared your body and almost your heart with, all while clutching your cheek in horror which was reflected in his own face.

Rage, resentment, shock, devastation, sorrow.

Pick whichever word you want - but it flooded your system in a horrific cocktail of heartache.

You saw red as unfamiliar feelings you'd closed off for years came flooding back. Your broken brain, unable to process them, melded them into your oldest and closest friend; Fury.

Fury was apparently a fickle whore as she was passed between the two of you in this collapsing building.

Any lingering reason you felt was dashed as you stood to your full height, the colonel still had a foot on you easily but you didn't hesitate in advancing this time.

He was a proficient soldier to be sure, but you were a weapon, born and bred for the single purpose of destruction.

The hesitation was all his own now as you swung at him, Rick however, realised this far too late as your fist caught his jaw - your enhanced strength meant that it wasn’t much of a fair fight - but Flag knew that going in.

You grabbed two handfuls of that stupid yellow shirt - the one you’d admired those muscles in the day before and threw with abandon, his body collided with the fallen sheet metall, sliding down it.

Discombobulated, he fought his own body to rise to his knees to prepare for your next attack. Rick’s eyes were unreadable as he took you in. He seemed to be contemplating his next move as blood began trickling from a gash in his forehead, his thick forefinger probed at the gash as he inspected the liquid as if it was a newly discovered element.

The two of you had barely begun and yet blood had already been spilled.

He clambered to his feet as you began your own advance. You fisted the fabric covering his shoulder as you delivered one single punch to his taut stomach.

Your blood had downgraded to a simmer - enough so you weren’t rearranging his insides - not that he’d ever paid you such a mind.

“Why are you making this so hard?!” You cried as he doubled over holding his stomach, you were standing over him, a strange mix of anger and sympathy as you watched the results of your handiwork.

To say you weren’t expecting a fist with some sort of macgyvered leather belt binding to strike at your cheekbone was an understatement. The unexpected blow sends you staggering onto your ass, your hands just about catching your weight. Rick grabs the shoulder of your jacket, throwing you forward, you assume he’s trying to get some distance, which he receives as you hit the brick wall with a harsh thud.

It takes you a millisecond to shake it off before you're back on your feet and pissed. Rick is nowhere to be seen, the pussy.

Though as you stride down the only clear hallway, you realise you shouldn’t have underestimated the man you’d come to care for. He hadn’t survived as many missions as he had at your side by being defenseless.

From the darkness he struck at you only this time a metal pipe in hand. If you’d have been in your right mind you’d have clocked the potential weapon back in the other room when he’d picked it up - hell, if you’d been in your right mind you wouldn’t be grappling with the man currently scrambling to straddle you. Those thick thighs you’d ridden more than once spreading to trap your hips and wrapping around your calves in an iron grip.

A buzz and a click radiated throughout the decimated room. It took you a moment to realise, it was the cold burn of a power dampener.

This time, the betrayal was all Rick’s.

“You piece of shit... bastard!” You struck him, though your usual consciousness stealing blows were now laughable.

Flag threw the pipe to the side, his body covering yours as his hands circled your wrists forcing them to the ground above your head. You thrashed, your body - panicking without your usual strength flowing through your veins.

You were furious as your body betrayed you, heating up of its own accord as the man above you pinned you powerless to the filthy ground, his hideous yellow shirt straining against the muscles in his arms as he forced you to submit.

“Calm down … Christ Sake woman, calm down.” He growls as you thrash against his hold, though it's useless, Rick has you banged to rights without your brute strength you don’t stand a chance.

Your eyes burn as your throat wells making it hard to swallow, you try to push down the betrayal you feel and the subsequent despair that it leaves in its wake.

Flag had used a power damper on you.

After you told him how much you despised the things. You had shared one night, opened yourself up to him as you lay naked against his chest about how you had been tortured in Belle Reve before you had earned the privilege of being unrestrained on that first mission - you hadn’t been collared since.

Yet the man you had given your heart had neutered you.

“Get off me you big fucking… idiot… soldier cunt!” The emotion behind your words causes him to halt as he pauses trying to find your face currently buried, hiding in the fabric covering your arm.

“Hey, hey. Stop. Stop and I’ll take it off.” His voice is softer now as your tears - something he’d never seen before - sober him up and quiet the rage that started the struggle to begin with.

It's silent for a moment as he takes both of your wrists in his ridiculously large one and lowers its now free counterpart to the belt hung low on your hips. His hand brushes against the exposed warm flesh of your stomach, causing an unexpected gush of air to leave your mouth.

The guilty appendage rummages through the bag on your belt, the movement unfairly close to your mound as a spark of arousal travels its way to your core.

In a moment of ingenuity you thrust forward, brushing your centre with a surprisingly large bulge forming in his tactical pants.

“Stop that.” He huffs, throwing your hands back to the ground. You feel the second his hands wrap around the drive - but that's not your primary, not anymore.

You throw your forehead forward, the action is completely unexpected; you manage to catch your forehead on his nose. An unfamiliar burst of pain causes you more pause than you’re comfortable with, though the damage you’ve inflicted to the soldier currently on his back to the side of you feels worth it.

You're absolutely covered in both of your blood. Rick’s or perhaps both of your noses have broken, or come damn close to it as you switch positions with him.

You grab his hand, holding it to the collar's pad. The lock remains in place. He tries to unseat you from your position on his chest, but you twist his arm currently locked in your grip and place all your weight behind the hold.

He pauses grunting in pain.

“The fuck is…”

He’s cut off as you slide the dried blood covered thumb into your mouth. You lick at the rough pad, your tongue running over the hardened skin following the lines in your mind.

Rick has gone still, no longer fighting for his freedom.

You raise the hand again - the clean ID grants your release.

“If I was the monster you think I am, I’d kill you without a second thought.” You whisper, as the damper drops to the floor. You release his hand and step back, you can’t name the emotion that drives you but it's the love child of arousal and rage.

You stand and begin undoing the belt and pushing the borrowed jeans to your ankles before stepping out of them with urgency you didn’t know existed before this.

Rick is unmoving, staring as you undress your bottom half before stepping forward. He expects you to pull his increasingly hardening member from its home but instead you step over his body to come and sit on his chest, pushing his shoulders back to the ground with force, bare pussy rubbing against the yellow of the shirt he’d commandeered - partly due to the way your eyes had followed him when he tried it on.

He nods at you; silent permission.

It's all you need as you push yourself forward to mount his face. Immediately his tongue strikes your bundle of nerves, any other day it would have you whining like a kitten for more, but you’re filled with resentment and you want him to work for it.

His tongue is as talented as the rest of him as it draws shapes around your clit before dipping into the warm depths of your cunt, before pulling out and retreating to its former position.

Flag hadn’t got the memo - this wasn’t time for teasing.

You grabbed at his hair buried beneath your thighs and pulled slightly in warning, when he failed to concede you were left with no choice.

You rocked your hips once against his head on the ground, making his nose brush at your clit as his tongue trails slowly through the heat of you, his tongue barely touched your entrance before he paused in shock at your brazen action.

Flag sucked your bundle of nerves into his mouth as his hands came to wrap around your hips, pulling you down as he brought you closer and closer to your peak.

You couldn't help the moan as you canted your hips forward; riding Flags face.

With a final swipe at your aching hole, Rick locked onto your clit, sucking like his life depended on it. You weren’t sure if it was the flawless cunnilingus skills that brought you to the peak, or having a wall of muscle completely powerless beneath you or just the knowledge that your strength once again rivaled that of the man between your legs but you came harder than you had in a while.

Your cry rang out, breaking the silence you’d forced upon the two of you.

You leaned back, pulling yourself to once again straddle his chest - the man had pissed you off but you didn’t want him to suffocate on your pussy.

Flags eyes caught your own as he licked what he could reach from his mouth and wiped the rest. There was a fire in them you’d never seen, it seemed that the soldier liked taking orders; you couldn’t say you were surprised.

You reached backwards, your hands finding his rock hard member. You wrapped your hand around him in an unforgiving grip. He grunted out in pleasure or pain, you weren’t quite sure before you loosened the hold and pumped him once, twice. You maneuvered your body backwards, giving the colonel no warning before you sheathed him fully inside of yourself.

He gasped and sat up, thick cords of muscled arms coming to encircle you. With your inhuman strength you pushed him back to the ground with a grunt. You rose once again until only the very tip of his thickness was inside of you before you seated yourself back down on his pelvis, his cock splitting you open as you took him balls deep.

Flag had pushed you to the edge with that collar, your powers were something you kept out of the bedroom, you had never even overpowered Rick before today, but you were done hiding yourself from him.

You pushed on his shoulders pinning him to the ground, his arms and body too long to pin down above his head as he had done to you, so your painted nails rose to wrap around his neck. Barely squeezing, more for show of control than to restrict his breathing.

“Tell me to stop.” You whisper to him all while you continue to take his cock in slow languid thrusts, you were in no hurry - despite the army outside the tower. Flag says nothing, only rises to meet your thrust somehow managing to push himself deeper inside of you.

“I’m selfish?” You mumble half cock crazed as you roll your hips to catch your bundle of nerves deliciously against his pubic bone causing your brain to fumble over your words. “I just wanted … that god for...forsaken drive to be with you.”

You pull at the back of his neck, your fingers wrapping in his hair to pull him into a sitting position. This position pushes him home, to depths you wouldn’t have thought possible even with as magnificent cock as he possessed.

“It's not right, baby.” Rick's deep twang is in your ear as he wraps his arms around you; this time you allow it, as he begins pulling you down onto his length. Flag thrusts his hips to meet yours. “It’s...not… right!” He pounds deep into your pussy emphasising every word.

Your hips are meeting one another's at a frantic pace now as you both near your peaks, your foreheads pressed together as your lips ghost over one another never quite touching despite the fragile armistice you’d both silently agreed to.

All that you hear is the crescendo of slapping skin against one another despite the background of shouting and the blasts somewhere off in the distance - but you couldnt give less of a fuck if the entire Corto Maltease army broke down the door with their tank so long as you had the Colonel seated deep inside you.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders to get the extra leverage to push you over the edge but you needn’t have bothered as Flags hand has found its way to your bundle of nerves and is rubbing circles frantically.

“Jus… B-Be bad… with… me,” You gasp before joining your mouth with his as you dive over the edge for the second time this afternoon. Your cunt clamps down around Flag’s member like a vice pulling him deeper, as he curses against your lips. Pumping only a handful more times before he comes deep inside of you.

He grabs the back of your head, fingers locking around your strands of hair and begins his assault on your mouth, his tongue breaches your mouth as his softening cock remains inside of you.

You know you have to get back to the squad but for right now you’ll take what peace you can get because there’s a giant fucking starfish loose and the world is falling apart outside these walls.

Flag seems to have the same idea as his hands loosen their hold and fall to cup your chin, your foreheads are still touching as he screws his eyes closed.

“God fuckin’ help me woman,” He all but groaned as he stared into your eyes. “I love you.”

His deep honeyed admission rumbles through his chest and vibrates your own. You stare up at him, a half smile/half smirk decorating your lips as you pull him in for a second kiss.

A kiss that spoke the words you weren’t quite ready to say out loud, the truth of your heart, of your love and devotion for him as a person, but as you parted you uttered the only words you could aloud.

“I know.”

#rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #rick flag can get it™️#rick flag #suicide squad fanfiction

178 notes · View notes

danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

Note

could you write the sensory overload prompt with fallout new vegas companions as well (including benny)? and maybe butch deloria if thats not too much ^^

Romanced! FO3 & FONV Companions React to Autistic!Six/Lone with Sensory Overload Anxiety

Whoops, I ended up doing all of the companions from FO3 as well, my bad 🤷‍♀️

But here they are! Thank you so much for the ask, and I hope you enjoy!

This prompt with FO4 R!Companions

FONV

Arcade:

The doctor would want to help, would actually know how to help, but he may just get overwhelmed as well. He tends to focus on Six themself, rather than the situation surrounding them, that’s where the panic tends to get to him. But Six, he can deal with. If possible, he will try to remove his companion from their stressful surroundings, but whether or not he is able, Arcade tries to stay calm, using his voice, and breathing techniques and exercises he’s read about to try and deflate their rising anxieties. He tends to make sarcastic comments in the aftermath, more so to expel his own pent up anxiety than to help Six, but they don’t need to know that.

Benny:

He's scared out of his mind the first time it happens. Six is pretty much invincible in his eyes, so this… just being around loud noises and such? That's what's rustling their jimmies? Wack. For a small moment, he feels like it's his fault, and even after the courier informs him that this is just a part of who they are, that they have always been this way, he still feels another dizzying pang of regret, knowing that a couple of bullets to the brain probably couldn't have helped their preexisting condition in any way. Over time, he'd get better about helping to calm his partner down, but he starts out rather overbearing, touching them too much, talking too quickly, having a panicked reaction that tends to only escalate the sensory overload they're experiencing. At least Six wouldn't have to worry about their safety in a combat situation with the Ben-man at their side. He's one of the best shots in the Mojave (if not the best). No one is getting past him. He may be an old hat when it comes to injuring Six, but he'll be hot diggidy damned if he's gonna let someone else lay a finger on them under his watch.

Boone:

First off, the sniper would try to prevent Six from entering into any stress-filled situations at all, reminding them that he is more dangerous from a distance anyway. However, he knows that, in the Mojave, avoiding dangerous or overwhelming environments altogether is damn near impossible, so he’ll try to be prepared. He’s dealt with his own vicious bouts of PTSD long enough to have developed coping mechanisms to help him, and has actively used tools like sunglasses and ear plugs in his time with the 1st Recon, which he would recommend to them as well. Boone would approach his partner in their time of need, trying to refrain from being overbearing, but ultimately his support wouldn’t waver as he helped Six try to come down from their state of panic.

Cass:

She honestly doesn't understand how Six has been able to survive in this world with their sensory overload anxiety, and she respects them even more now that she knows they have managed to. She may not be the best at helping them handle their stress, so she usually leaves Six to their own devices while she works on removing anything that could be causing her partner's apprehension. Once the threat is gone, she'll stand nearby until Six has managed to calm themself down, just to cover them and keep an eye out. When it seems to be over, she likes to bring them somewhere to unwind; and enjoys simply sitting with them and maybe having a drink or two as they recover their strength, and bearings.

Raul:

He’ll talk them through the whole ordeal. Is he nervous about their state of panic? Probably. But his partner doesn’t need to know that. The ghoul doesn’t know a lot in terms of dealing with meltdowns, but for Six, he’ll try. Whatever sort of exercises they start to engage in to get their anxiety under control, he’ll be beside them, trying to participate, to help them through it if they seem to be struggling. He’ll get better at dealing with it over time, but it always scares him a bit to see his partner this way. Evidently, he will become more and more aware of his surroundings the more they travel together, and will try to keep them away from the situations he finds tend to set them off.

Veronica:

Whatever it was that seemed to have Six panicked, Veronica would seek to expel it in whatever way she can (but she's most enthusiastic when it involves punching). Her physical assault of the enemies responsible would be relentless, but should the episode be caused by something else, Veronica would be less comfortable dealing with it, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t try. She mostly leaves Six to figure out their meltdown on their own, maybe going through breathing exercises with them and sticking by their side, but letting them calm themself of their own accord. Her involvement with the Berotherhood has taught her enough to know not to add any pressure to someone enduring this amount of stress. However, when they do eventually tell her that they are through the worst of it, she would try to give them some form of physical contact to help reassure them that she’s there for them, if they are comfortable with it.

FO3

Butch:

He’s known Lone a long time, and since they were kids, he’s been learning about the sort of situations that set them off. Now that they’re together, he’ll try his hardest to think back to all the times they were overwhelmed, and would attempt to keep them from these types of environments as best as he can. That doesn’t always work though, given the differences between the vault and the unpredictable outside world. Despite this, he also tends to remember the way their father used to help them when they became panicked like this, and will try to replicate these actions in order to best help his companion. Once he's succeeded in helping them calm down, they might have to return the favor, as their panic tends to do a number on Butch. Though he has seen them in such a state more than a few times, that doesn’t mean he likes it one bit, or will ever be truly used to it.

Charon:

Calm and collected as ever, Charon would systematically eliminate all stressful factors that could be affecting Lone. When he had seen to that task, he would turn to his partner, standing by their side and waiting for direction of how best he could help them. If they can recover on their own, he’ll be nearby to cover them, but if they are in need of his assistance, as long as they tell him what they need, he will oblige. In the aftermath of Lone’s meltdown, Charon would keep his blue eyes locked on them as his worry wears away at his stoic exterior. They will need to tell him that they are okay, or else he will refuse to carry on with their travels. Until he knows they can handle it, he won’t allow them to set off again.

Clover:

The poor thing would do everything wrong in this instance. She would try so damn hard to help her partner in their time of need, but ultimately she would prove to only add to the list of overwhelming factors surrounding Lone. As soon as she saw the panic wash over her companion, she would be by their side, speaking to them quickly, and as quietly as she could, but her own anxiety would cause a high pitch to sound from her throat as she tried to talk her companion down, running her hands over their arms as she does her best to support them, her frantic touches only serving to quicken their heartbeat further as they felt trapped by her concerned caresses. Once Lone finally does manage to settle down, Clover would be almost hurt by their lack of reciprocation when she tried to aid them; that is, until Lone explains to her that there are better ways for her to help. Now Clover just has to remember this for future instances...

Cross:

She’s been a soldier long enough to know how to deal with stress on the battlefield, but it’s somehow different when it’s her partner going through the ordeal. She’ll be uncharacteristically tender as she takes them through the motions she was taught to use in order to calm her fellow soldiers’ nerves. Her voice would remain soft, her touches gentle, her brows knitted together in concern until Lone finally showed signs of calming down. The paladin would release a long breath, as though finally expelling her own apprehension at the situation, and then would straighten herself up, returning to the seasoned soldier she was in order to face whatever was left of the situation at hand.

Fawkes:

The super mutant has a difficult time with subdelty, and would be worried about overwhelming Lone from his own loud tendencies. Should they start becoming uncomfortable while in his presence, he would actually distance himself from them, trying to turn away any additional factors that could be playing a part in their overload. Once they appear to have calmed themself, Fawkes will check in, apologize, and ask if there was anything he could do to prevent such occurrences from happening while they are in his company.

Jericho:

Fucking hell. We live in the Capital Wasteland. The whole damn place is just one big ass stressful situation. Are they serious?! He’d be confused, and a little pissed off, but if he has a soft spot for anyone, it’s Lone. Dammit. He won’t really know what to do, but he’ll try his best to cover them and keep them from harm’s way as they attempt to calm down and deal with their overload. Afterwards, he’ll gruffly ask if they’re okay, telling them that what they did could’ve gotten them killed, his expression would be a combination of sternness and annoyance, but his body would betray him as it shook in relief at the sight of his companion standing uninjured in front of him. Jericho would nod for the pair to continue on their way impatiently, but his eyes wouldn’t leave Lone as they set off in front of him, concern shining in their depths when he knew no one was there to see it.

184 notes · View notes

mysticalrambling · 3 years

Note

Ommmmgggggg i just read your lates story of steve rogers arrange marriage. And it was the most heartbreaking story evern written. It was really good although my heart got broken reading it😞I read you will take time in fulfilling request, so you can take a lot of time but I m making a small request🙃Like you have written lots of arranged marriage tropes but they all were angsty in the beginning, can you write something from your perspective on steve rogers arrange marriage which has no angst only lots and lots of fluff. like they are still in arranged marriage but there is no angst they are both trying for their marriage because after all the angst i guess a fluff treat would be nice☺only if you want to

A/N: Thank you so much lovely and the plot line is great. I loved writing about it and I made a few additions to the story. Hope you like it.

Perfect Life (S.R)

Steve Rogers Fan Fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Steve and you get married and you decide to give your marriage a fair chance. You both soon fall in love and you are really happy together. You get pregnant and it is all perfect till the very end.

Warnings: Some mention of blood and angst but otherwise it is all fluff.

._._._._._.

Steve and you were informed by Fury that there will be an arrange marriage. He didn’t give much explanation but simply stated that the government demanded it and you both simply had to oblige. When you were recruited by the Avengers, you were a super soldier just like Bucky under the influence of Hydra. It took a lot of work to get you back from the brain washed state and Steve played a big role in that. You both were partners in the field and best of friends. Many people thought that you both would oppose the idea but you didn’t. Sure, you were confused but you couldn’t fight it if the government ordered it. No one could so you thought you would give it a shot.

You simply asked for sometime to discuss it by yourselves and Fury reluctantly he agreed. He was prepared for a screaming match and being beaten to a pulp by the Captain and the super soldier. However, he was met with calm expressions and thoughtful gazes. It would be a lie if you said that you didn’t feel attracted to one another. So when he left the meeting room, Steve asked you out for dinner. Privacy was needed to discuss this matter and he wanted to do it outside of the compound.

“Are you ready to go, (Y/N)?” Steve knocked on your door at exact eight o’clock. Captain America never liked to be late.

“Yes, I am.” This was the first time he had seen you in a dress. It hugged your curves just right and the maroon dress contrasted beautifully with your skin. You simply looked like an angel. A devil disguised as an angel that it.

“Let’s go.” Steve took you to your favorite restaurant and you felt a little flutter in your heart when you realised that he took notice of the little things.

Clearing your throat, you started to come to the point of the dinner, “So what do you think about this marriage?”

“Um... I am okay with it, I guess. What about you?”

“Same here. I have actually liked you for sometime now and I would be willing to give this marriage a try.”

“I like you as well and same here.” You chuckled when you saw a light blush appear on your partner’s cheek. He found your confidence endearing and that was one of the things that he first noticed about you.

“Okay, good. I just want a simple ceremony with our friends present. Is that okay with you?” There was no point in beating around the bush and so you started the discussion of the wedding arrangements.

“I was thinking the same thing. Let me just text Fury that we are going ahead with the marriage and then we can discuss the rest.” You both enjoyed the dinner to the fullest whilst making small conversation. This was the first time that you actually had fun on a date after hydra and same goes for Steve. They couldn’t keep up a conversation with you when they didn’t know the things you go through on daily basis.

“Do you want to get ice cream? There is a really good ice cream parlor down the street.” Getting out of the restaurant, he helped you get in to your jacket.

You always had a sweet tooth and you were a sucker for ice creams. Steve and you were going to make a good couple because of your similar taste. “Yes, I would love that. So do you know anything about the mission tomorrow?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y detected some illegal shipment coming from one of the abandoned hydra facilities. We think that it is being occupied and you and I are just going to go there and install some cameras for surveillance.” He ordered two scoops of butterscotch and you decided to take a walk while eating.

“What if we encounter some hydra bastards? Do we get to kill them?” You rubbed your hands together in excitement at the thought of ridding the world of hydra scum.

“No, we don’t. We can’t engage so don’t get too excited about it.”

You both reached the compound and all your friends were waiting for you in the lounge. They all pounced on you as Fury had already informed them about the marriage. Natasha had already planned out the bachelor party while Pepper had booked an appointment with the world’s known fashion designer. You kept laughing at all their thrilled expressions and you were feeling sure of your choice by the minute.

The night passed like it and before you know you were off to the mission. Steve was extra protective this time as he won’t let you move a step forward before double checking the hallways first. You just rolled your eyes but you still found it pretty darn cute. No one has ever cared for you like this. But what you didn’t realise was that there was a secret doorway in one of the halls that you passed and you were quickly ambushed by four hydra agents. You got into your super soldier mode and took on the two to your right while Steve went for the left ones.

“Are you okay, (Y/N)? Cap?” Tony’s voice filtered through the comms.

“We have been ambushed but we have it under control.” You talked while slicing the jugular of a blonde six foot man and kicking the other in the shin. Steve also had it under control as he deflected all the attacks with his shield and threw punches when he got an opening.

“Okay. I have agents on standby if you need them.”

“Copy that.” After about five minutes, you had dealt with all of them and got away with only a couple of cuts and bruises.

“Let’s go to the infirmary together.” Steve purposed the idea when you refused Tony’s order to go get checked by the doctors. He didn’t want you to feel like he was ordering you around but he cared about you a lot.

“Only if you insist and Cap, we are getting married at the end of this week.” Kissing him on the lips, you left for the infirmary while he stood there with his mouth agape.

The whole compound was a mess for the whole week and Tony had benched you and Steve because apparently, the bride and groom can not be injured on their wedding day. You were over the moon about this new chapter in your life and so was your fiancé. This was the best thing that has happened to you in a while and you were glad. The ceremony was over before you even knew it with you both reading out your own vows and kissing sweetly when the priest announced you as husband and wife. You loved every minute of it but you were glad when it was over.

“I just wanted to tell you that we can take it slow if you want to.” As soon as Steve entered the room, he tried to clear things up before they got uncomfortable.

“I don’t want to. I told you I had feelings for you and they have grown ever since.”

“I love you, (Y/N). I know it might be too early but-”

“I love you too. Now, kiss me.” You spent the night with your husband and it was perfect. He made you bed in breakfast the next morning and you just enjoyed the whole day with your husband. It was truly a blessing to have Captain America as your husband because he was truly an honest and a moral man.

The next few days for you were spent as a newly married wife and it was perfect. Your friends threw parties and took you both out for dinners; their treat. You didn’t go back to your job for a couple more days and safe to say, it was peaceful. The days were spent with your friends as you all lounged around in the theatre room. At night, it was just you and your husband and it was much more entertaining.

“(Y/N), I have to go on a classified mission with Buck. Are you going to be okay at home, all alone?” Steve kissed the top of your head as he placed the pancakes in front of you.

“I am not going to ask what it is about but I need guarantee that you are going to back to me in one piece.” You mumbled while shoving pancakes in to your mouth. A girl needs her food.

“I will, promise. Love you, babe.”

“Love you too.” There was a moment of silence before you contemplated about what to do with your day.

Entering the kitchen, Tony asked. “What are you doing?”

“Just resting.”

“I am in mood of some homemade cupcakes. Want to bake them with me, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I suppose. Have nothing else to do.” You were worried about Steve because it had been a long while since he had gone on a mission without you.

“Cap is going to be just fine and Bucky is with him. No one can win against that metal arm. My invention is state of the art.” Seeing you distracted, he tried to ease your worries. Pretty soon, you indulged into the whole baking thing and time passed you by.

“Hey, I am home.” Steve was shocked to see the whole kitchen filled with baked goods; counter, oven top, coffee table and chairs. Tony and you might have gone a little overboard with the whole baking thing. It was a good distraction so no one should blame you.

“Hi. You are alright.” A sigh of relief escaped you as you crushed him into a hug.

“I never back down from a promise, princess.” He tucked you under his left arm and picked up a muffin with his right. “What do you want to do today?”

“I was thinking we can go to the amusement park today.” You turned in his arms to give him your puppy dog eyes. He could never say no to you then.

“As you wish, princess.” You both quickly got ready with you wearing a sundress that reached your mid thigh and Steve in a simple black t shity and jeans.

The amusement park had been fun up until you decided that you wanted to go on the roller coaster. The moment it fell downwards from the sky, you looked pale and horrified. For someone who was reluctant to go on the ride, Steve was quite enjoying himself. When it stopped, you found the near trash can and hurled violently. Afterwards, you decided to stick to the slower rides. By the end of the day, you were on a ferris wheel with your husband by your side and your favorite ice cream in your hand. You kissed on top of the ferris wheel. Cliche but that was exactly what you were going for. This was all perfect and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I love you so much.” You whispered lazily as you laid in the bed with the blankets wrapped around you snugly. Today was wonderful but tiring.

“I love you too. (Y/N), have you thought about kids?” He asked reluctantly as he knew that it had only been a month in your marriage. It was a little too early but he just wanted to know.

“I know that they are in my future but I want to wait a year or two. I want to spend sometime with you alone.”

“This is the same thought that I had. Just wanted to get this out of the way.” Kissing you sweetly, he called it a night and dozed off to sleep.

Three years passed you by like they were nothing, Maybe it was because you were too happy. Of course there had been lows in your life like when you and Steve were on the verge of divorce because you were starting to drift apart. But you both worked through it and you were happier ever since. You almost died once in a mission and you weren’t able to get off the bed for three moths. It was painful and Steve was with you every step of the way.

However, there were too many good things that tipped the scale in your favor. Like when Steve brought a puppy as a gift for your first anniversary, Milo. Your love from him only grew afterwards and when you both found out that you were pregnant with your first child, you were over the moon. A tiny version of you and Steve was growing inside of you and it was the best feeling in the world. Labor was extensive but you got her as a reward. Rebecca Grant Rogers.

“Can you please go see her? I fed her about an hour ago.” You kicked your husband out of bed and he whined before getting up. Sleepless nights were finally getting to you both.

Gently cooing to the three months old, Steve picked her from the crib. “Hey bubs. What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

“Mmmmm” Becca babbled on as she saw her favorite person in front of her. The four month was attached to his hip and you loved the bond between them.

“Let’s go to our room and try to sleep again.” You had drifted to sleep but you stirred awake when he came back to bed with your daughter in his arms.

“She is not going to sleep?”

“No, this little bug just wants to spend time with her parents.” A toothless grin adorned her face as she kept her icy blue eyes on her parents.

“Do you want me to make you laugh, huh, baby?” Tickling her, you got a smile on your face as she laughed out whole heartedly. She was the mini version of Steve but there were hints of you in her as well, like her chin or her smile.

Time passed by and soon it was 3 in the morning. “Let’s sleep now.”

“Yes. We have to go on a mission tomorrow and Nat and Wanda have said that they will babysit Becca for the day.”

“That’s nice.” Steve laid your little girl in the middle of the bed and you both put your arms around her. It was peaceful and you were content with your life.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, babe. Sweet dreams.” You thank Fury everyday for the decision of getting you two married. Your life was just perfect now and nothing could change that.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

._._._._.

A/N: I loved writing about Steve and I am open to requests now. I will be working on my own drafts alongside it. You can send in requests but it will take some days for me to get to them:) Love you guys and do tell me if you want to be added to my taglist.

Tag list: @justile

Like, comment and reblog.

141 notes · View notes

moonlitceleste · 3 years

Text

marinette dupain-cheng’s guide to picking up cute guys

A/N: Chez Vous is real in the DC universe; it’s described as a restaurant but I decided to use it as the name of the café because I didn’t want to come up with one myself. It translates to “at your house,” which basically implies “make yourself at home.”

thanks to @ramos123 for being my beta reader! <3

ao3

“Bet.”

Marinette slapped a crisp 20-dollar bill onto the wooden table with enough force to slosh around the brown liquid in the cup sitting before Alya’s smirking face.

Chez Vous was the name of the café they had been sitting in for the past fifteen minutes. The place had a nice ambience, the quiet chatter of customers and aromatic smells combining to make what was an unusually cozy atmosphere considering the location.

Gotham wasn’t exactly known for being hospitable, but she supposed the fact that it was clearly fashioned after Parisian cafés contributed to the homey feel. It vaguely reminded her of her parents’ bakery as well, so it certainly lived up to its name.

Perhaps it was this sense of familiarity that had her and Alya reminiscing on how far they’d come. It hadn’t been that long since lycée or université—the two were only 22 and 23, respectively—but recalling the good times they’d shared was always fun to do.

Of course, their friendship had momentary blips (ahem, Lila), but the two had managed to sort out their problems eventually. Now that Alya had become more attuned to Marinette’s boundaries and there were no pressing superhero secrets to keep, they knew how to both ground and challenge each other in positive ways. Which was exactly what had caused Marinette to get herself into this situation.

While chattering about their lycée days, Alya poked fun at her once again for what had transpired on the day of the Animan akuma. How could she ever forget that while secretly masquerading as a superhero and locking her best friends in an empty gorilla habitat together, she had somehow helped them end up in a relationship? And now the two were engaged.

This topic somehow lead to Adrien and the stupid puns he spewed both in superhero and civilian form. Alya was insistent that Marinette was charmed by them at some point, to which she replied, No way! They were horrible. Even I could do better.

It was with twinkling eyes that her best friend asked “Bet?” and well, Marinette was never one to back down from a challenge. So after pulling out some spare cash from her purse and setting it down in front of Alya, she raised a brow.

A wicked smirk grew on her best friend’s face, and any lesser person would have faltered, but Marinette was prepared for anything that could possibly be thrown at her.

“Fine. If you’re so confident, I dare you to use a pick-up line on… him.”

As if on cue, the bell at the top of the glass-paneled wooden door jingled, and Marinette followed Alya’s pointed finger right on time to see a very attractive man walk through.

He had a confident stride, but not an arrogant one—his aura was one of someone who was assured and knew exactly what they were capable of.

Despite his seemingly laid-back disposition, she didn’t fail to notice how his eyes darted around the room cautiously, the same habit she had gotten used to doing after she had been given the Ladybug Miraculous. Then again, this was Gotham, so being on constant guard was only natural.

One thumb was hooked in the pocket of his jeans while the other moved up to ruffle his hair, and wow did he have nice hair.

It was perfectly coiffed, and if she didn’t have experience with hairstyling due to her career she would’ve thought it was as effortless as it looked. Most models would kill for the natural luster his locks seemed to have, and even from a distance she could tell that anyone who decided to run their fingers through his hair would be met with softness.

And she didn’t even want to get started on his face. From his glowing skin to his strong jaw and pretty eyes, she refused to believe someone so attractive could be real. It was unfair, really.

“...inette? Marinette? You good there, girl?”

A snap in front of her face broke Marinette out of her stupor, and she offered an instinctual yelp in response.

“What?”

Alya’s eyes twinkled knowingly, and Marinette shifted anxiously in her seat.

“You sure you weren’t checking him out?”

“Alya!”

Said girl let out a mischievous cackle at her hissed response.

“Now get over there!” she said, waving her hands around in a shooing motion.

Marinette glanced over to the line, where the man was no doubt giving the barista his order.

From what she could tell he was just about done, and she watched as he shuffled through his wallet to hand the barista a bill. But rather than proceed normally as most client-worker interactions would, his payment was met with wide eyes and flailing hands.

Marinette was much too far to discern what was being said, but from context clues she could deduct that he had just handed the barista quite a sizable amount. She had already guessed he was well-off from simply observing the quality of his clothes, but this was near confirmation.

It wasn’t as if status or wealth mattered much to her, but she did have a tendency to be wary of higher-class people due to past experiences with them. Being around them really wasn’t as pleasant as it seemed.

Her musing was interrupted when the man suddenly moved, relocating to the waiting line. There was her chance.

Marinette pushed herself out of her seat, steeling herself and lifting her chin high. This was no biggie. All she had to do was somehow convince this gorgeous man to give her his number by making a crappy pick-up line and a pun on the spot. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, but this felt different, probably because it was a total stranger she was about to attempt it on.

She felt Alya’s gaze trailing after her with each step, and Marinette reminded herself that she absolutely had to succeed or she would never hear the end of it.

The closer she got, however, the more her confidence died. Apparently she had made a major miscalculation while gauging her probability of success, because she hadn’t accounted for the brain spasm she was currently having. Why, oh why did he have to be so cute?

Marinette had the sinking feeling that she was about to majorly embarrass herself, but she was determined to win. Screw embarrassment—she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. All the trouble she had gotten into with Alix and Kim as kids had prepared her for this very moment. Nothing mattered besides victory.

So she sauntered up confidently, stopping right in front of her target.

“Hey, you must be Batman’s sidekick.”

“What?”

The man’s head snapped towards her, and Marinette didn’t fail to notice the subtle defensive stance he took. Years of hero experience had made her more perceptive towards these things—it was part of the job, after all. She filed the information away in the back of her mind, making a mental note to dissect all that later. Her priority was winning the bet—and oh, right, she still had to finish that pick-up line.

“...because you’re Robin my heart.”

The quip was accompanied by an uncharacteristically roguish smile, à la Chat Noir. She’d give herself a solid 10/10 points on delivery.

Her target seemed to agree with the verdict, because after a split second of shocked silence, he burst into full-bodied laughter.

The instantaneous shift in demeanor nearly caught her off-guard, but she was too occupied by the bright smile on his face and his melodic chuckle to notice. It was light and carefree, and she couldn’t help but crack a small smile as a result.

The only problem was that the laughter didn’t end, though, and she felt her face heat up more as the seconds ticked by.

Oh, Kwami.

Marinette buried her face into her hands with a soft groan, wishing the ground could just open up and swallow her whole.

She knew it wasn’t the greatest pick-up line ever, but she didn’t think her attempt warranted that much amusement.

The laugher ceased abruptly, and she peeked through her fingers in time to see the man quickly sober up.

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you!”

A pause.

“Okay, not exactly. I just—wow, that was a great pick-up line.”

She slowly lowered her hands, though she kept her head down to peer at him through her lashes.

“Did it work?”

He chuckled and offered her a bright smile that made her blush like a high schooler with a massive crush.

“Yeah, you can tell your friend over there that you won your bet.”

If it was even possible, she turned redder.

“What? How…”

At the mention of Alya, Marinette sent a quick glance to their café table only to find that she was doing absolutely nothing to hide her rapt attention. She quickly caught on to the fact that they were looking her way and sent a very obvious thumbs-up and wink.

Oh, I am so going to kill her later!

But Marinette’s momentary vexation made way for embarrassment as the gravity of the situation hit her.

“I guess I wasn’t exactly subtle, huh?”

“Yeah,” the handsome stranger shrugged. “You probably could have been more discreet. But I liked it.”

“Okay, that’s the second time you’ve said that, but I have a hard time believing you. You can’t possibly tell me that you actually enjoy puns.”

“So I’m guessing I shouldn’t tell you that meeting you was a fortuitous aster?”

“Aster? As in the opposite of disaster?” she wrinkled her nose.

“You got it!”

Marinette rolled her eyes in exasperation, though the upwards tug at the corner of her lips betrayed her true feelings.

“Careful there, or you’ll be the one Robin my heart.”

She’d never admit to it, but she flushed a tiny bit before straightening up in realization. Hey, she was supposed to be the one doing the wooing here!

But before she could open her mouth to respond, her companion beat her to it.

“Since you’re stealing something so dear to me, I think it’s only fair that I get my thief’s name in exchange.”

He was clever, she had to admit.

“Marinette,” she proffered.

“Dick.”

She blinked in surprise at the seemingly random obscenity before it clicked.

“Oh, that’s your name!”

The words tumbled forward, and once she realized what she had said, Marinette tried to frantically backpedal. Her spilled apologies didn’t seem to be necessary, though, because that mesmerizing laugh came back.

“No, it’s fine, I get that a lot,” he breathed between chuckles.

She brightened immediately, glad she hadn’t offended him or embarrassed herself too much.

“Well, since I’m already taking something from you, may I steal your number as well?”

“Only if I can do the same.”

Her inquiry was met with a grin, and the two exchanged phones to type in their respective numbers. Marinette’s found its way back into her hand shortly after, and moments after she pocketed it the call of “medium espresso and beignets!” broke the quiet ambience.

“Well, that’s my order,” Dick said, words weighted by a silent apology. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a few things I need to take care of. Maybe we can meet up later this week?”

The end of his sentence lilted up in hope, and Marinette found her chest warming with affection.

“I’d like that.”

She bid him goodbye with a smile and a wave and quickly tacked on an “I’ll text you later!” in afterthought.

She’d forever deny squealing giddily as she unceremoniously dragged Alya out from her seat and through the café doors, but the sound didn’t escape Dick’s attention—or his enhanced hearing, courtesy of Bat-Tech.

As he watched her leave with Alya, a smile slowly spread across his face at the thought of seeing her again.

Yeah, he sighed to himself. She’s definitely Robin my heart.

PERMANENT TAGLIST *@astoriaandromeda @avengerthewarrior *@bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @iloontjeboontje @jayjayspixiepop @jalaluvsu @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @no-username2544 @too0bsessedformyowngood @ultimatetornshipper

#maribat #dickinette #cel's fics #celestewrites #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dick x marinette

374 notes · View notes