#and then fifteen on saturday probably i hope???? i need to go write it all right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

demonvibez · 3 months

Text

Showering with Diavolo

Characters: Lord Diavolo x GN Reader Word Count: 2.3k+ Rating: Mature/Explicit [MDNI] Tags: a lil fluff, unprotected penetration, outercourse, fangs/marking, gn body parts A/N: Received this request as a comment under this fic so of course I had to write a lil headcanon/drabble about my husband, lol. Anyways, hope y'all like this - I could go on about Showertime Dia forever ♡

-> Typically Lord Diavolo has to adhere to a very strict schedule, his life filled with routine. Sadly, his hygiene regiment is no different - quick fifteen minute showers, six days per week, with the exception of his weekly bubble bath.

-> Most of his showers are quite quick and methodical, starting with his hair and working his way to washing his body. At the end of the fifteen minutes, Barbatos is usually there to greet him with his towel and uniform, eager to get the Young Master's very busy day started.

-> He has probably been gifted every hair-care and body gel to ever exist in the Devildom. But instead, his favorite is one you gifted him, and he is sure to use it everyday. The moment the musky-amber scent hits his nostrils in the morning, it reminds him of you, and he just knows he'll have a good day that day.

-> On Saturday evenings, however, the Prince has a little more time to himself - he pours himself some Demonus and settles into his jacuzzi-style bathtub, the water jets melting away the week's worries.

-> He usually uses the time to catch up on whatever popular shows he's missed, the television in his bathroom being a new addition. You had given him this idea - you told him that 'even the future king needs a little bit of me time,' and he started crafting an Akuzon order almost immediately after you walked off to class.

-> He lets himself drift off into his own peaceful oasis - too often falling into slumber, as thoughts of you turn into dreams. Lately though, he can't help but to feel like something is missing - that sitting in this jacuzzi makes him feel a bit lonely.

♡ "If only you were here with me now," he whispers to himself, before letting out a sigh and sinking beneath the water's surface.

-> Luckily for Lord Diavolo, the stars would soon align in his favor, and the fates would push you two closer together. It all started on a camping trip with the usual crowd from RAD. Diavolo had volunteered to help you gather some firewood - a rather simple task, one would think. Instead this task ended with the two of you running into a pack of wild hellhounds, and getting pushed into a mud pit while attempting to play with them. Barbatos looked rather perturbed when he saw the two of you arrive back at camp, but you assured him that everything was fine. 'Come on, let's get cleaned up,' you say with a smirk to a slightly shocked (and very giddy) Diavolo, your fingers entwining with his as you pull him towards the camp showers.

-> He isn't usually a shy demon, but when it comes to stripping down and getting into this shower with you, he can't seem to keep the blush on his face under control. What started as a nice shower together, washing each other's hair and giggling as you splash each other, ends with the two of you in a passionate embrace. With your legs wrapped around his torso, your lips collide as the cool shower's water cascades down Diavolo's toned back. It definitely would have gone further, had the two of you not been interrupted by Mammon and Levi banging on the door. (He did invite you back to his tent afterwards, so the night was not completely lost. Mammon and Levi were also lectured by Lucifer, 'for their shame and disrespect' as he puts it - but that's a different story.)

-> Ever since that night on the camping trip, your relationship has blossomed, and the two to of you spend as much time together as possible. You usually alternate between staying over with each other - most of the time you go over to stay with him in the Castle, but every now and then you are able to convince Lucifer that the House is clean enough for your Royal Boyfriend to spend the night.

-> The first time he stays over, of course the two of you shower together! You ask him if you should text Barbatos to bring over some of his shower supplies, but Diavolo insists on using yours, excited to smell like your signature scent for the rest of the day. He'll always insist on using your products - a light breeze of that scent helps him get through those endless meetings! (Although it does tend to make his mind wander...)

♡ Showers with Diavolo are always a mix of spontaneous and sensual. One moment you're splashing each other with soap suds, playing 'keep away' with the loofah…the next he has you pinned to the wall, unable to resist the way you look up at him, and he can't stop his lips from crashing onto yours.

♡ It doesn't take much effort for him to pick you up, cradling you in his arms as the shower rains down onto the both of you - and now you can finally finish what the two of you started on that night camping; what Diavolo has been fantasizing about ever since. Your hands slide his damp crimson hair back out of his face, gripping it in the back as your tongues collide. You can feel Dia's thick throbbing cock teasing you, and all you can do is grind against him.

♡ He slides into you so effortlessly - as if you were made for him. Your arousal made you putty in his hands, your tight little hole adjusting to him after only a moment - but you still couldn't help the gasp you let out at his size, your eyes widening at the sensation.

♡ Every thrust in this position feels new, an unfathomable pleasure previously undiscovered. A new high, with no sight of the top. Each stroke hits so deeply within you with an electric feel, the rush of pleasure getting sent up to your brain, overstimulating all of your senses. The euphoria continues to build, and you don't know if it will ever end - if the tension will ever snap.

♡ The rising pleasure within you is starting to overwhelm you, having never felt so full before. Just when you thought you couldn't handle much more, the Prince slides one of his hands down to your sex, massaging you in tandem with his pace. Your nails dig into the flesh of his muscular shoulders as he finally pushes you over the edge. He finds himself following suit not long after, the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him making him unable to hold back any longer.

♡ Both of your moans fill the air as you ride out your climax together. Gasping for air, you hear a knock on the glass of the shower's door - you were so wrapped up in this moment together that neither of you heard Barbatos enter the bathroom. He waited until it sounded as though the two of you were finished before he interrupted your 'shower' - and now he's reminding you of the Young Master's busy schedule for today in a scolding tone, as he holds out towels for you both. Oops.

-> Anyways, you also love spending weekends at the Castle with him - it's easier to flow with his schedule that way. And of course Diavolo is going to invite you to his Saturday night soak; you're his favorite human, his lover, his partner…and it was originally your idea, in the first place!

-> Just know that this demon spent extensive time planning out your first bubble bath together - he had to pull out all of the stops!

-> The Friday morning beforehand, Barbatos comes in to wake up his Young Prince, only to find him already awake and making a rather large Akuzon order on his DDD. Scented candles, chocolate covered hellberries, vintage spirits - he was even considering calling in one of his favors to see if he could get some Celestial bubble bath expedited from the angelic realm. Cost is of no issue to him, wanting nothing more than to ensure the night's success. Barbatos scolds him several times throughout the day, the Prince seemingly distracted and prioritizing his night in with you over his paperwork.

-> When the time comes to set everything up, Diavolo insists on doing everything himself. He even threatens bribes Barbatos into going to Purgatory Hall for the evening - all so that he can do it all alone, eager to show you how much he cares about you. He has a brief moment of doubt as some of the Celestial bubble bath accidentally overflows onto the floor...but you're worth it, and he finishes fixing it all up right as you ring the front entrance anyways.

-> The scene set in his bathroom is so romantic, you wonder for a moment if you're actually in a movie. Abyss flower petals scattered around the floor. Candles set around the tub, the flickering glow dancing against the bathroom's tiles. Scented bubbles gently fizzing and popping, the light aroma filling the air and instantly making you feel relaxed. A bottle of champagne, specially ordered from the human realm, and set in an enchanted bucket of ice next to two hell-crystal champagne flutes. And your gorgeous Demon Prince standing in front of you, gently grabbing your hand to press his lips to your knuckles before he leads you over to the tub. If this is a dream, you definitely don't want to wake up...

-> After the two of you disrobe, you settle into the jacuzzi, and Diavolo gets you each a glass of champagne right after he presses the button to start up the water jets.

♡ It doesn't take much bubbly for the two of you to find yourselves in another heated moment - but the truth was, neither of you could hardly wait to jump the other from the moment you entered the bath's warm water. And now you find yourself in his lap, bouncing on his huge throbbing cock, the feeling of it filling you surprising you yet again. Every new position with the Prince feels like new territory, the way he strokes so deeply within you. Making you feel things you never have before - hitting spots you didn't know existed. This type of adventurous pleasure could become addicting...

♡ His golden eyes smolder with lust as he watches you, every gasp that escapes your lips pushing him closer and closer. Your little human hands grip at his scalp as his own fingers sink into the flesh of your hips. His lips find your neck, and his kisses gradually turn into light love bites, his fangs nipping little marks onto your skin as he thrusts up into you.

♡ "So good...all mine," he mumbles possessively against your neck.

♡ Your moans grow louder as Diavolo starts thrusting faster, taking the reigns as you let the building bliss take over your senses. He pulls away from you to see the way your eyes roll back in ecstasy as his hand glides down to your sex, massaging you in that spot that he knows drives you absolutely wild. Consumed by pleasure, that warm feeling of euphoria washes over you, your orgasm making you feel weightless in Diavolo's muscular arms.

♡ He's not done with you yet though - not even close. Switching positions, he picks you up in his arms and sets you down on the recessed bench in his bathtub. His hand grips under your thigh and pushes your leg up, a groan escaping his lips as he slides himself back into you. It had been merely a few moments, yet he had already missed the feeling of your tight warmth squeezing him so perfectly.

♡ He thrusts into you roughly and suddenly, the bath's water splashing and rippling against his gorgeous caramel skin with each stroke. You hadn't even come down from the high of your first orgasm, still feeling the aftershocks as Diavolo begins to fuck you faster and faster.

♡ Losing all restraint, his demon form slips out only a few moments before he hits his climax, causing his cock to grow even bigger. Your eyes widen as you feel him, his wings outstretched as he fills you with his royal seed - and you can't help but to join him, your orgasm overtaking you as well.

♡ Both panting for air, he picks you up and sits down with you in his lap, still throbbing deeply within you. He wraps his arms around you to hold you as you both catch your breath. Neither of you can help the smiles plastered across your faces, that blissful feeling still remaining as you sit with him in his loving embrace. Your cheek rests against his chest as his rests on top of your head, and he just knows that this is the happiest he's ever been in his long, demonic life.

-> Afterwards, as the two of you get ready for bed, Diavolo can't help the way his heart swells when he sees the way you've settled into his room. The way your things line the counter of his sink. The way you go to his wardrobe to retrieve your pajamas, instead of your bag. It's almost as if you live here in this Castle with him already - a thought as sweet as candy for the Young Devildom Prince.

-> And as you lay there snuggled up in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck, Diavolo contemplates asking you to move in with him right then and there. But you've already drifted off to sleep, so that will have to wait for another time. Looking down at you lovingly, his heart feels so full - he presses a kiss to the top of your head before laying back on his pillow, his eyes fluttering shut.

♡ "I love you so much," he whispers as he drifts off into his own slumber. With you in his arms and in his dreams, the Future Demon King can't help but to smile in his sleep.

· demonvibez ♡ 2024 · do not copy, repost or modify · · comments, reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

1K notes · View notes

narrans · 5 months

Text

My Borrowed Son | 15 | To My Friends...

Chapter Fifteen | To My Friends…

It was a bit of a restless night for Amanda. She knew it would be a challenge but that it was good for both of them at the same time. Not having Parker sleeping within arm’s length was strange. The maternal part of her wanted to make sure he was okay.

What if he needed something?

What if he had a nightmare?

What if he went to get off of the table and slipped on the ladder or rope? Parker was prone to climbing things after all.

Fretting and worrying took its toll on Amanda and, by morning, she found herself blankly staring at her reflection for several unblinking minutes as the water washed away her toothpaste. There were faint dak rings under her eyes, but perhaps that had to do with the other matter of Parker getting older.

He was growing into a fine young man. He was gaining interests and wanting to explore more things. Just the other day, her son asked her about sports as he practiced his swimming in the bathtub and possibly joining this thing called a Dungeons and Dragons campaign that one of his friends, Billie, was hosting.

Amanda remembered D&D when she was growing up, and it didn’t seem all that interesting if she was being honest.

But Parker was his own person. He needed to be able to express himself and be free to explore the things he wanted to but within reason.

The fear in the back of her mind crept up once again. The omnipresent force that constantly loomed over the disguise that was Parker’s “condition” lurked in the shadows and threatened to rear its ugly head every time Amanda wanted to give Parker the freedom he earned.

There was a portion of Amanda that scolded herself for not telling Parker sooner about his so-called “condition” and how he actually came into her life. The other part, the dominant one, hoped she would never have to tell him. To her, it didn’t matter where he came from. He was her son, and she reasoned that not having answers to his existence was worse than providing one lie.

Regardless of her feelings, Amanda knew that she needed to start letting Parker make some of his own decisions when it came to his interests. If it was dangerous, she would intervein. Otherwise, she needed to trust in Parker and reinforce their lessons when needed.

“Hey mom! Good morning!” Amanda turned and glanced down by her feet to see Parker by the bathroom door that she had left open. “Are you finished?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry. Good morning Parker,” greeted Amanda as she quickly rinsed out her toothbrush and stepped past Parker into the hall. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did. You?” grinned Parker.

“I slept well enough,” his mom replied. “It’s Saturday. Do you want cinnamon rolls or eggs?” The look in his eyes said it all – cinnamon rolls. With a quick nod, Amanda headed off toward the kitchen was Parker started his morning routine.

Parker heaved his way up the line he fixed on the side of the sink, despite his mom insisting he use the ladders for everything, and washed his face and brushed his teeth. The newly minted teen stared at his reflection in the mirror and, for the first time in a while, felt like he was a little different.

He knew his hair probably needed a trim, but there was something about his physical body that felt different. There was something about his features that felt like they were changing. His mom had explained that his body would be going through changes as he got older, but today was the first day he actually felt a little different.

Parker decided to table that for another time as he began working on a mental spiel for his mom instead about why he should be able to get a Tumblr account. He went over the talking points in his head.

Selina has an account for her art to better her portfolio and gain a following.

I want to publish some of my writing because I like it and I’m good at it.

I’ll be responsible.

It’ll be another way to make friends.

I know we’ve talked about safety on the internet before, and I promise I’ll be safe.

The more Parker thought, the more he didn’t feel confident in his argument. The teen still wanted to try though. The worst thing that his mom could say was “no,” right?

He shimmied down the line and hurried to the kitchen before he could lose his nerve.

Parker crossed the wooden floor, taking in the heigh of the hallway and the vastness of the living room before walking into the kitchen. After spending the evening in a place designed specifically for someone of his size, looking up toward the ceiling was vertigo inducing. That weird part of him felt, for whatever reason, apprehensive as he approached his mom.

It happened from time to time, but that sensation was something he couldn’t identify.

The sweet smell of baking cinnamon bread wafted through the air and dismissed his concerns as his mom knelt instinctually and helped him up onto the counter.

“So, I was thinking that we should start working on the hot water in your space first so if there are any leaks and spills we can clean it up, dry it off, and not get any decorations and electricity wet. I know we set up the basics yesterday, but I just want to make sure it’s all good before getting everything else in place. What do you think?” asked his mom. A healthy portion of iced cinnamon roll was dished out onto his plate and handed to him.

“Sounds good to me,” replied Parker. “And thanks for making breakfast.” He inhaled the sweet scent and dared to lick a large portion directly off of the top when his mom wasn’t looking.

“You’re welcome sweetie,” Amanda said in response. “Then, if you’re feeling up to it, we hook up the chords and lights so you can be ready to show your friends your new room on your webcam by Monday for class.”

“That… sounds great,” said Parker, his mind thrumming with a slight, growing anxiety as his question continued to prickle the tip of his tongue. Parker winced as he saw his mom looking at him. He didn’t know how she did it, but anytime he had something on his mind, she knew.

“Or… we can do something different,” suggested Amanda. Parker looked up and saw his mom’s intuitive eyes looking at him quizzically.

“No! No, I want to do all of that. It’s going to be a great project,” said Parker hurriedly, his heartrate spiking momentarily. “It’s just… I wanted to ask you for something. Like… a delayed birthday gift?”

The concern in his mom’s brow dissipated into curiosity. She nodded and laid her hand down onto the counter, a signal to Parker that they were going to go sit at the table instead of eating on the kitchen counter. He stepped onto her hand, noting the small blister on her thumb from where she probably accidentally burned it while making breakfast, and let her get settled down at the table before continuing.

“Um… okay… hear me out,” said Parker as the argument he had been practicing in the bathroom and all this morning vaporized immediately.

“Okay,” said his mom with a cautiously amused smile on her face. Parker cleared his throat a few times before it clicked again in his head.

“Um… right. So, I was wondering if I could start my own Tumblr page,” said Parker. His mom’s brow furrowed in confusion, so the teen decided to elaborate. “I was talking with Selina and the others during the party yesterday and Selina said that she had one and was using it to post her art and stuff like that. She said I should put my writing up on there and… I… kind of want to.”

Parker knew this was a big ask. Generally speaking, his mom tried to emphasize that time should be spend off of the computer and not on it. His access to the internet was usually kept under mild monitorization simply because the internet had a lot of things that he wasn’t ready for.

As his mom would say, “The internet is a powerful tool that can be used for good and bad. There are some… different… people on the internet and sometimes the things they put out there are cruel or not for young eyes.”

Parker had always adhered to that and only used his internet searches for academic purposes.

This, he felt, was a good resource for him to utilize.

Amanda, on the other hand, felt herself squirm and pale, and she prayed Parker hadn’t noticed. That website was the same one way back when that she had found a lot of writing about “little people.” A lot of it seemed like fiction and fantasy if not for the fact that her son fit in with the exact categorization of these small beings who lived in walls.

Amanda thought about the conversation she had with herself just this morning about letting Parker have a little more freedom and taking his feelings into consideration. He was expressing interest in publishing and writing. Parker wanted to make more virtual friends because, for better or worse, she had restricted his contact with the outside world.

She had to ask herself the ultimate question.

Was this something that was too dangerous?

Was this something that would harm her son?

Would this thing provide too much information for his mind to handle?

Or, on the other hand, would this prompt the conversation they might need to have about how he came into her life?

Amanda didn’t trust the world with her son, but she trusted him. If he was ready to ask those questions and seek out those answers, she needed to let him to that.

Who knew? Maybe he wouldn’t encounter anything or ask those questions. Maybe this was a change for Amanda to start formulating how to best talk to Parker about why he was the way he was.

Amanda swallowed dryly and looked into Parker’s thoughtful, light brown eyes. He was obviously eagerly awaiting her reply.

“Well, Parker, I think… that you’ve shown a lot of responsibility when using the internet. Obviously, I would like to be able to see the website and look into all of the options, but… I think we could come to some kind of compromise,” decided Amanda.

Parker, absolutely filled with elation, leapt up and cheered.

“Yes! Thank you momma!” he said jubilantly. He threw himself onto her hand and hugged her with all of his might. It reminded Amanda of the little boy he still was.

Once again, she sent a silent prayer that she was doing the right thing.

She suspected she would need to have a conversation with Parker, but not now. Not right after his birthday.

“We’ll get everything set up after we set up your space, deal?”

“Deal!”

~~~^*^*^~~~

The next eight hours were a test of sheer willpower.

The hot water was a trick and a half to get set up and that went double for the electricity, specifically the switches that turned the lights on and off.

The easiest part was, in all reality, decorating. Parker chose easily cleanable floor panels and mostly space themed wallpapers. He did choose to have his bedroom in a Hobbit style theme with greens, browns, and little grass patches which Amanda dug up for him. He also picked out a few gardening beds for him to grow stuff off of his balcony and plenty of wires and charging places for his devices.

His area right off of his bedroom on the second floor was his classroom and study area, hooking up the camera and tablet for class. The first floor was the gaming and hangout area. Finally, the attic was Parker’s not-so-secret tinkering area when he wanted to create and design stuff.

All in all, things were coming together very well and, by the end of the night, Parker was exhausted; but not exhausted enough to deter him from creating his account.

With his mom’s blessing, he quickly filled in his email, birthday, and even uploaded a quick picture he took of himself.

The final thing to determine was the name of his blog, which Parker didn’t realize he needed to do.

What did he want to call his blog? His name was already taken, and he wanted to make sure it sounded genuine and professional if other people were going to see it. He didn’t want to make it something naughty and have his mom find out and revoke this privilege.

He stared at the blinking vertical line on the screen as his hands hovered over the virtual keypads.

Then, it hit him.

The name was already on the place his mom gifted to him added with a little touch into his mind.

Parker’s Place: Welcome to My Little Life

It was suiting, and Parker felt like it represented him in a way that didn’t talk too much about his condition. He was more than some fancy Latin name after all.

The screen popped up and, for a moment, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Should he make an introductory post? One of his dreams? Did he even have to use that button at the bottom called “tags?”

He decided his first course of action was to send the Tumblr link to Selina, which he did, before electing to make a little introductory post. It was polite after all.

Nerves and excitement starting to make him feel jittery, Parker began typing.

“To my friends... Hey there! My name is Parker and I'm a little new here. I like writing, poetry, tinkering, and I stream games and stuff from time to time. I'm also a bit of a space nerd and I usually have a favorite book every month, but my all time favorite is probably The Hobbit.

“I hope you all like my stuff. I'm just putting it out there to get over my stage fright (fingers crossed).

“Anyway, nice to meet you through the screen. If you have any story suggestions I should read here or cool art I should check out, just let me know!

“Look forward to hearing from all of you out there and, hey, welcome to my little life!

So long!

Parker”

After staring at the post for nearly twenty minutes, Parker decided to pull the trigger. Taking a breath, he pressed the “Post Now” button and hoped for the best.

He didn’t have time to watch and see if anyone noticed or cared about his post. Dinner was ready and it was his turn to pick the movie.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Beginning

27 notes · View notes

kristannafever · 5 months

Text

The Hike

Kristanna Modern AU - oneshot Rated: T WC: 2374

~I totally saw something adorable on the interwebs. Headline read as follows; "She sent an office email about a weekend hike and ended up in love with the only guy who responded". So of course I thought this is a adorable meetcute and wanted to write it :D

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

Anna sat at her computer, furiously typing away. She had only been at her job for about two weeks and she was itching to meet more people. The small building had two floors, and having not much reason to go up to the second floor, or the warehouse for that matter, she wanted to send an invite to everyone to join her for a weekend hike.

And being the new receptionist – the lowest level position – didn’t discourage her from sending the memo to everyone, her bosses included.

It read;

Hello Rolling Rock Inc.,

I hope this memo finds you well. I am Anna, the new receptionist. I would like to extend an invitation to meet me for a hike this Saturday! I would love to meet everyone and we can have a wonderful time enjoying the gorgeous weather forecast for this weekend.

There is an easy trail up North Mountain (just forty-five-minute drive out of town). It has a big parking lot at the trail base and great views when you get to the top. You can google the directions or come ask me directly!

Meet up time is 7 a.m.. Bring a lunch and plenty of water!

Hope to see you there!

Anna Arendelle -Reception

Anna read it over two more times and sent it out with a smile on her face.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Anna woke bright an early on Saturday morning. No one had asked her for directions so she assumed Google did its job to guide people where they needed to go.

She’d asked around of the people she already knew if they were going to come, and about half of them said that they would probably see her there. It sounded to Anna like they were going to have a good group for the hike.

She got up extra early and packed a big lunch; sandwiches, enough trail mix to share, an apple, an orange, and a carefully packed cupcake. Excited, she placed everything in her car, grabbed her hiking boots and hit the road.

The drive was refreshing with the sunrise at her back, casting its golden light on the pointed peaks of the mountains. Anna sung along to every song on the radio, huge smile on her face, excited to meet some more people and have a wonderful day outdoors.

*****

Kristoff drove with the windows of his truck cracked. It was a little chilly, but the early morning air was fragrant and rejuvenating.

He loved the mountains. There was hardly a weekend in the summer and fall that he wasn’t in them. At first he’d been a little apprehensive about the memo, not knowing who the hell the new receptionist was, then he asked some of the people in the warehouse and they said they were thinking about going. He decided to commit his Saturday to it, even though it meant leaving his best friend hanging at the bar the night before so he could go home and get a good sleep.

He saw the sign for the parking lot and turned left, crossing the other side of the highway which was unbusy at the early hour. He glanced at the clock in his truck, noting he was a little late. There was construction by his house getting out of town that had held him up nearly fifteen minutes. Even if they’d taken off up the trail, he was sure he could catch them quickly.

Navigating his truck through the treed entryway, he soon turned right into the large parking lot. At first he wasn’t sure he knew what he was looking at, then it all started to click into place as he slowly made his way to the trailhead sign.

There were three cars off to the left, no one in sight around them, and a lonely car off to the right with a copper headed woman sideways in the front seat with her feet on the pavement looking highly disappointed.

“Shit,” he muttered. Either he had the wrong day and that was some rando woman, or he was the only asshole from their whole company that had shown up for this hike.

He took a calming breath and parked beside her. It wasn’t like he was going to turn around. That would be such a dick move. And he really did want to hike.

He rolled up his windows and hopped out of the truck. No sooner were his boots on the asphalt and she as beside him, smiling up at him. He was taken aback by her big blue eyes, and they nearly took his breath away.

“Hi,” she said tentatively. “Are you from Rolling Rock?”

Kristoff swallowed, still flustered by her beauty. “Uh, yeah. You’re Anna?”

Her face lit up with a brilliant smile. “I am!” She held out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

He shook her hand. “You too. I’m Kristoff.”

“I’m so glad you showed up, Kristoff,” she said, dropping his hand.

He immediately missed her touch. “Not many takers, huh?”

Anna put on an exaggerated pouty face and crossed her arms. “It appears not.” She smiled again. “But that’s okay! You showed up, so I guess the two of us get to enjoy this beautiful sunny day in the mountains.”

Kristoff smiled, his stomach fluttering with butterflies. “Their loss,” he agreed.

*****

Anna’s legs were sore by the time they got back down to their vehicles in the late afternoon. They’d hiked to the top rather quickly, being just the two of them, then decided to take another trail to take them a little closer to the peak where they would have their lunch. It proved to be more difficult, and the incline left Anna’s leg muscles burning by the time they reached the top. It was worth it though, looking out over the valley and the sparking glacier-fed lake nestled below them.

And Anna had an absolutely amazing time talking to Kristoff. He worked in the warehouse, which was why she’d never seen him before, and he was a wonderful person. Not only had he been the only one to actually show up, he’d entertained her rambling stories with actual interest, and she was rewarded by hearing his gorgeous laugh a couple of times. And that was not the only gorgeous thing about him.

If she had known there was such a looker lurking in the depths of the warehouse, she would have made a point to go in there more often. He was tall, broad, blond, and hunky as hell. His soulful brown eyes were nothing like she’d ever seen, and as they ate lunch perched on the outcropping of a rock, she found herself mesmerized by them.

They stopped when they reached their vehicles – the only ones left in the parking lot now – and Kristoff took a moment to stretch out his back. Anna was unable to tear her eyes way, watching how every one of those muscles of his moved under his clothing. When he was done and looked back at her, she had to catch herself and cover for the fact that she was ogling him.

“Thanks for the invite for the hike, Anna,” he said, sliding his pack back off his shoulders to dig out his truck keys. “I’ve never been up this trail and I had a great time.”

Anna found herself nodding. “I’m glad. I did too. Thank you for showing up.”

He chuckled. “I can’t believe none of those other assholes did. They sure missed out on a nice day.”

She nodded absentmindedly, focused on every movement as he unlocked his truck and threw his backpack in the back seat and turned back to her.

“I mean it,” she said quietly. “It was a pretty shitty feeling sitting in my car and realizing that no one showed up. Then you pulled in and it was like… I don’t even know. I just felt…” She shrugged, looking down.

It’s okay, Anna. I get it.”

Her eyes came up to his. “You do?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “It’s like throwing a party and no one shows up. Although I guess an early Saturday hike is a little different.”

Anna smiled at him. “Maybe it was too early?”

Kristoff laughed. “Maybe. But like I said, their loss.”

She nodded slowly, unable to stop her eyes roaming over every inch of his face. “Their loss indeed,” she agreed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Anna was head over heels in love. Kristoff was the one.

They’d left the mountain that day with plans for just the two of them to meet up again the next weekend on another trail in the area. By the end of that second wonderful hike, Kristoff had asked her if she had any dinner plans, and they ended up driving home and meeting later at a Pub near his house, which was coincidentally incredibly close to Anna’s own apartment.

That dinner had changed everything. Or rather, it was the chaste kiss he’d given her at the end of it that changed everything. From then on, Anna knew she was a goner. While dating wasn’t even on her radar after moving to a new town and starting a new job, Kristoff was without a doubt, the love of her life. She felt that spark of love as soon as their lips met for that first beautiful kiss.

After that their love blossomed. They are their lunch together at work, they hung out every chance they had, the went on many other hikes and adventures in the mountains. Kristoff introduced her to camping and fishing and Anna had no idea she could have so much fun sleeping in a camper on the back of a truck with only his body for warmth.

It was on one such camping trip that he first told he that he loved her. Anna’s response had been quick and heartfelt that she was head over heels in love with him too. Her sincerity must have been so profound that Kristoff suddenly asked her to move in with him as well. Anna, of course, was thrilled, and they spent the rest of the evening by the fire talking about how excited they were to live together.

Never in a million years did Anna think she was going to fall in love so quickly and thoroughly. To think, if more people had shown up for that hike, she might not have talked to Kristoff. Perhaps he didn’t show up either. But however you sliced it, they were the only two ones on the mountain that day, which meant to Anna that it was destiny. Kristoff was her soulmate and no one could change her mind on that.

15 YEARS LATER

Kristoff’s smile got wider the closer they got to the mountains. He looked over to his beautiful wife in the passenger seat, nodding her head along to the song on the radio and singing under her breath while she scrolled her phone looking for things to do around the new campground they were going to try. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, he saw that his daughter was listening to her own music and staring out the window, while his son was playing on his Switch with his headphones to pass the time for the drive.

His heart was full. Never in a million years did he think attending a hike sent out in a memo from the receptionist would get him everything he had ever wanted in life, and here he was, relishing in the happiness that his family brought him every day.

Their daughter and son, twelve and ten respectively, adored the mountains as much as him and Anna. It was special to Kristoff that they got to spend time as a family having fun in the outdoors without the distractions of screens for the entirety of the weekend. A lot of the places they went to didn’t even have cell reception.

Suddenly, Anna’s hand shot towards him and gripped his bicep.

“There’s some falls we can hike to!” she said, excitement all over her face.

“Yeah?” he chuckled. “That sounds awesome.”

“I love waterfalls,” their daughter piped up from the back.

“Me too!” Anna agreed. “Bud, you want to hike to some falls?”

Silence from their son.

Kristoff kept his eyes on the road but turned his face towards the rear seat. “Dude, headphones,” he said loud enough to be heard.

His son slipped them off his head. “Huh?”

“You want to hike to some falls?” Anna asked.

His face lit up in a smile. “Oh, yeah for sure.” With that done he slipped the headphones back onto his head and resumed his game, knowing the only time he was allowed to play it over the weekend was to and from camping.

Anna shook her head and looked at Kristoff with a smile on her face. He knew that smile very well. Their kids were typical kids of course, but they were both damn fine kids. Him and Anna were beyond proud of the amazing people they were raising.

Kristoff glanced in the mirrors again to check their rig. They had come a long way from the little camper he had on the back of his dad’s old ’78 Super-Cab. Now he hauled a modest travel trailer with his newer truck; a small queen in the front, little kitchen and table, and bathroom and bunk beds in the back. Perfect for the four of them. They had the little fridge stocked, the cooler full of ice and drinks, their fishing gear, and the bicycles in the bed of his truck. The perfect combination for a fun filled weekend with gorgeous weather in the forecast.

Anna heaved a very happy sounding sigh, setting her phone down in the console between them. “I can’t wait to get there, set up, and crack a cold one.”

Kristoff grinned. Damn this woman was without a doubt the love and light of his life. “Same, baby.”

They glanced at each other with smiles that were only meant for each other. Kristoff thought back to that hike all those years ago often because he had met his soulmate, and he was thankful for that every day of his life since.

#the hike #cee wrote this mess #kristoff #anna #kristanna #oneshot #kristanna modern au #I saw this yesterday and wrote it real quick so i didn't edit it #I just thought it was too cute and really wanted to write this little thing for my otp

20 notes · View notes

denimbex1986 · 10 months

Text

'Overall, I was a big fan of Doctor Who's 60th anniversary after watching "The Star Beast" online, but there's one part of this inaugural special that has me upset. It seems that enough others feel the same way, judging by social media comments, that I feel the need to write about it. Now that we've had some time for spoilers to pass for those who streamed with Disney+ subscriptions, can we talk about how absolutely awful that opening recap was?

Of everything I thought I'd be saying about Doctor Who after the first special's premiere, criticizing the recap sequence was probably near the bottom of the list. With that said, I think it's definitely an odd smudge against an otherwise wonderful special, to the point that I'm hoping there's enough time to fix the visual approach before it becomes the new norm for all new episodes going forward.

The Recap Sequence Was Absolutely Dreadful

When it was revealed Disney would co-produce Doctor Who, hopes were high that the effects budget would increase as well. So imagine how disappointing it was for the anniversary special to open up on a shot of six-foot-plus David Tennant standing in front of a green screen, inexplicably looking like he's far shorter while narrating the story of The Doctor and Donna Noble.

The scene then cuts to Catherine Tate narrating Donna's story from the character's home in a way that almost makes it feel like someone delivering a soliloquy in a play. It felt somewhat unnecessary to me, though I do realize I'm someone who has spent the past year covering everything from the 60th anniversary cast list to the fifteen-year glow-up of Tate and Tennant, which isn't the case for all viewers. Really, though, it was more the execution that was the problem as opposed to just the concept, and I think we need to address recaps in this new era before they become the norm.

Let's Revert Back To Doctor Who's Classic Recaps From Now On

Doctor Who recaps are typically a series of scenes from previous adventures relevant to the upcoming story, with the main theme playing underneath. While I can concede that the story of Donna Noble and how Catherine Tate's character left is full of important nuance, we really didn't need to know much more beyond her becoming Doctor Donna, it overloading her brain, and the Doctor erasing her memories of him to prevent her from dying.

I don't think it would've been too hard to find the appropriate clips, and to recap things in the traditional approach. The way that Doctor Who settled on felt rushed, somewhat low-budget, and not on par with some of the fantastic effects work that was seen later throughout the episode. It's bothered me so much I kind of want to petition the series go back in and replace it, because it's going to make me cringe with every rewatch from here on out. I should be worried about Donna Noble potentially dying, and not something as frivolous as the recap, but here we are.

Doctor Who will keep the 60th anniversary fun rolling with a new episode on Saturday, December 2nd on Disney+. Hopefully, the conversation about that episode will revolve around a potentially complicated appearance by Fifteenth Doctor Ncuti Gatwa, and not another cringe-worthy introduction sequence.'

#Doctor Who #The Star Beast #Catherine Tate #Donna Noble #Ncuti Gatwa #60th Anniversary #David Tennant

0 notes

thedarkplume · 3 years

Note

Would you rather have floofy daddy mad at you and need to make it up to him:

Or be mad at our favorite beefcake and have him make it up to you?

Bonus: tell us why he/you’re mad and how you/he made it up to you 😏😘

NSFW 18+ Warnings for graphic language, graphic sex, underage, sexual assault, past rape reference, attempted rape, casual racism, below the cut.

Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to write this @stargazingfangirl18 This is probably more than you were expecting, but I hope you like it!

You know, I wish we all really could write a book with one of our best monster stories from each of us. I know it would be amazing!

I think I'm going to go with Andy on this one! I love Ari to pieces, and so I can't see myself being angry with him for anything unless he was doing something to help me and I don't realize it until the very last second.

Andy's new partner is a perv.

He and Andy opened up their own law firm in Springfield, Massachusetts after everything settled with Jacob being cleared of murder and his divorce from Laurie finalized. Andy was thankful for his new partner ignoring the past he could never shake and offering the chance to revitalize his career.

His partner was a respected man, a family man. He and his wife and two kids went to church every Sunday and participated in the town's bi-weekly Saturday bake sales. He even had a seat on the school board while his wife serves as the town's elementary school principal. He was about fifteen years younger than Andy, graduated high school at sixteen, and received his law degree at twenty-three. A child prodigy, his wife liked to brag to the members of her faculty and staff, who wore the most charming, disarming smile.

The first incident was nothing too big. It happened at a bake sale and I thought nothing of it. Bryce leaned around me to grab a brownie off the table. So, what? That could've easily been his iPhone against my hip, and I barely noticed his breath against my nape. And if afterward that charming, disarming smile looked a little bit darker, I shrugged it off because Andy was finally in a happy place again.

The second incident was a little harder to ignore. I was doing some research in the library for the October release of My Monster, My Lover, a compilation of short stories written for men, women, and trans people who fantasized lovers in the monsters like weres that walked on two legs and loved a good chase, cecaelias whose tentacles could touch you everywhere, orcs who were not above hoisting you over their shoulders and kidnapping you for their mate, centaurs who loved for you to straddle their backs naked during moonlit rides, fauns who easily seduced those who vowed to never mate with such unseemly creatures, and so forth. I was contracted to use my drawing skills to develop the concept art for the monsters and certain NSFW positions. I was having trouble with one of the monsters. She was meant to be a throwback to Elizabeth Bathory but had wings and a tail. As good as the story was, I struggled with visualizing her. Thankfully, the town library had quite a few books on the subject of monsters both literary and cinematic. I found one titled The Mythical Creatures Bible by Brenda Rosen. The section of Creatures from the Shadow World contained a subsection for Sexual Predators featuring both the Incubus and Succubus with vivid descriptions.

It was beginning to come together in my mind half an hour later. She would lounge in a bathtub of blood. Her golden curls are pinned high on her head because blood is a bitch to wash out of blonde hair. Her latest victim is suspended by her ankles above her with her throat slit and still dripping. The monster's head is tilted back, lips parted, fangs glistening, and tongue extended like a child catching snowflakes. Even her tongue took a little more time to draw. Every part of this monster is unique. The author wrote that her tongue would have a thick layer of saliva that tasted sweet and acted as an aphrodisiac in seducing her chosen victims. I took it a step further and let it drip down her chest as it extended from her opened mouth and split nearly half of its two-foot length. Both pieces would move independently and in opposite motions. Her fingers were long and thin. Rather than claws that could render flesh from the bone with a mere swipe, her nails were manicured in her favorite color, flamingo peach. She held a goblet filled with her favorite wine. Her wings spread behind her just over the rim of the tub. Her breasts floated a little above the blood. Her lover kneeled beside the tub, naked with one arm submerged, leaving little to the imagination on what he was doing. Her tail hung over the edge filling his mouth as he regarded her with a half-lidded stare.

"You must have some imagination on you." The warmth of his breath tickling my ear and the Armani cologne filling my nose quickened the pace of my heart. "Sorry," he smiled, not sounding sorry at all. "Andy always talks about what a talented artist you are, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you in action."

"It's fine." I put the half-drawn sketch aside. Bryce seemed to have no intentions of leaving me be anytime soon anyway. "What brings you here today?"

"The kids had some books that needed returning and I needed some light reading to distract me from a case."

Ever the bibliophile, I glanced at the book in his hand. My eyes widened ever so slightly. "Light reading?" His book of choice was Lethal Marriage: The Unspeakable Crimes of Paul Bernardo and Karla Homolka.

"Yeah, aside from great source material on where these criminals go wrong, serial killers lead some of the most interesting lives."

"That makes sense." I actually could not judge Bryce on his odd fascination. He was a lawyer, after all, and likely saw gruesome crimes like that all the time. Andy himself had some odd books in the library in his office at home. "My mom is a guidance counselor at the high school back in my hometown. She practically raised me on the big five. Gacy, Dahmer, Ramirez, Bundy, and Wuornos."

Bryce's eyes glimmered. "See? I can't talk about this stuff with Cheryl. She says it gives her nightmares," he rolled his eyes.

"Right, well, I'll let you work." I gathered my materials, trying not to look anxious to put some distance between Bryce and myself.

"Actually," Bryce stepped in front of me before I could leave. "Do you have a moment? There's something Andy mentioned the other day that I'd like to discuss with you."

I really wanted to say no. The less time spent in Bryce's presence without his wife or Andy as a buffer the better, but then he brandished his charming, disarming smile and I agreed, if only to get him to stop looking at me that way.

"It's never too early or too late for pancakes," Bryce declared when the waitress at Joe's placed a stack in front of him with a plate of eight bacon strips.

"You sound like my mom," I laughed, drizzling ranch dressing over my turkey cobb salad.

"Your mom sounds very smart."

For a while, I was able to forget the uncomfortable feeling Bryce's presence always caused. For a while, I could accept that it was the work of my overactive imagination in a town full of busybodies who constantly questioned why Andy and I weren't married.

"Andy said that you're an adult author."

My lips twitched. "It sounds so sinister when you say it like that." He shrugged, still stuffing his face with pancakes. "Yeah, I write adult novels."

"Mmm, and through a couple hours of research, I found out that you also write women's fantasies. Like Nancy Friday."

"You've read Nancy Friday?" I asked, unable to mask my surprise.

"My mother had quite the collection of books. I snuck a few off her shelf once puberty started leaving its physical mark."

That was entirely too young for someone to read Nancy Friday's stories. I never touched them until the summer before my freshman year of college when I was looking to experiment with my writing and artwork.

"It's something new. It began with a fantasy or two submitted to my web page and grew from there. Why? Do you have a fantasy you want me to publish?"

"So, it's open to men?"

"Men, women, trans, nonbinary, and whoever has something to say."

Bryce waited until I placed a to-go order for Andy, who often forgot to eat because he was always so caught up in his work before he spoke again.

"I keep having this reoccurring dream. It's back during my teen years and I'm spending my last summer at my family's estate before I leave for college. There are other kids with me, some my age, some a little older, and about three that are no older than fourteen. We drink and smoke and do a little bit of the heavier stuff. One of the fourteen-year-olds, I don't actually remember his name, follows me around constantly asking me questions about my studies and what I was going to do after I graduated. I think he may have had a crush on me. He's...sweet. Soft. Dainty in a way you wouldn't expect from a kid playing at being a man." Bryce licked his lips, his eyes glazing. He may have been sitting across from me and telling me about his dream, but he was miles away. "He's so happy to be around me, he barely blinks if I hug him too long or if I let my fingers linger against his soft skin. The other fourteen-year-old, the girl, oh she notices. She notices because while the kid is obsessed with me, she is obsessed with him."

The more Bryce talked, the less likely this seemed to be a dream. It sounded like a fantasy, but it felt like a memory. The clatter and chatter that always comes with being inside of a diner faded to a hum as Bryce kept talking.

"His infatuation with me was the highlight of that summer. I had to see just how far I could push him. I convinced him to ditch his little shadow and come back to my room. I have someone waiting there. A woman. She's older than me and she already knows exactly what I want from her. I tell the kid to sit in the chair across from the bed. He looks a little uncomfortable. Scared even, but he obeys me because he still trusts me. The woman stands in front of him taking off her clothes. She's beautiful of course, but my eyes are still on him. I get her down on her knees in front of him, the upper half of her body draped over his knees. His eyes are blown wide open at this point, flushed apple-red cheeks, and trembling. I've never been harder in my life. He watches me take her like an animal in front of him. His eyes are glossy with tears, unable to handle the strange and new feelings coursing through him. She has her face pressed against the inside of his thigh to try to smother her screams. She finished quickly, soaking me. She turns around, leaning back between his spread legs. His hands squeeze the life out of the armrests when he sees me standing over them, jerking myself off. She's a good girl and opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out to catch as much of my spend as she's able, but some of it shoots on his shirt. He stares at it like he wants to touch it, but is too scared to move. The woman obediently crawls out of my way. I can hear the wet sounds of her touching herself as she watches us. I move closer to him, still hard, still feeling like I can blow another load. I'm so close to him I can feel his breath against my tip. I nudge his lips. He opens his mouth with a whimper, letting me do whatever I want. His tears fall and I've never seen someone cry so beautifully. I come and I come and I come. I come so hard my legs almost give out."

Bryce still looks miles away, lost in his dream. "Is that the end of it?" that look on his face when his eyes focus on mine is enough to make me want to run out of the booth. I've read some of the strangest, even grotesque stories from people all around the world. Even Bryce's story pales in comparison to what's been submitted to me in the past. But it's the look in his eyes. It's the barely contained violence and malicious intent that only seems to exist in his eyes when he looks at me. It's like there's something about my presence that triggers some reptile instinct that he's managed to suppress for the sake of his wife and kids and reputation amongst the town. "It feels like there may be more."

He smiles, but if anything that charming, disarming smile, makes these feelings all the worse. "There is much more, but I have to get back to the office and Andy is probably surviving only on coffee at the moment."

I was grateful for the reprieve. I was unsure how much worse Bryce's dream was going to get, but I pushed it out of my mind as soon as I saw my Andy. He had yet to notice me. I stood in the doorway marveling over him. His kind blue eyes and pouty pink lips that he kept moistening as he concentrated. He was on the phone pacing a little bit. The rumbling baritone of his voice soothed me. I could listen to my man talk for hours. I must have made a noise or moved too much because Andy's eyes cut to me right as he was sitting down again.

He motioned me inside as he wrapped up his call. I closed the door behind me, already feeling better by just being in his presence.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

Andy beckoned me onto his lap. His strong thigh was warm underneath me. His arms hugged my waist and all of the tension and unease melted away.

"I brought lunch." I raised my eyebrows watching his shoulders slump a little.

"I had a granola bar and a banana earlier." His pouting was cute.

"Mmm-hmm. Anyway, I brought you your favorite from Joe's."

"You went to Joe's without me?"

"Bryce invited me." Andy snorted. "What?"

"You and Bryce are not exactly the hang out at Joe's to catch up type."

"Yeah, well, someone bragged about my drawings and that led to him finding out about my books." The look in Bryce's eyes in the diner flashed before me, making me shiver.

"Are you okay?"

I wanted to tell Andy how I really felt about Bryce, but Andy was finally happy again, and Bryce really hadn't done anything to me physically.

No. This was something I would keep to myself. Everything would be fine.

"Just a little cold."

"Are you sure?" it was almost as if Andy was giving me the chance to confess my feelings. It was a little eerie at times how perceptive he could be.

"I'm sure." I hated lying to him, but this feeling of unease was a thread best not to pull on. "Are you going to eat that," I gestured to his bowl of three-bean chili and cornbread. "Or am I going to have to steal it from you?"

The last time it happened, Andy and I were invited to a Day Before Halloween, Halloween Celebration at Bryce's estate. I really, really did not want to go. Neither did Andy for that matter. He never explicitly said it, but I got the feeling that he didn't care much for Bryce outside of the office.

But it was worth it to see Andy dressed as Once Upon A Time's Captain Hook. He was considering going as Jefferson, but just the thought of him shaving that glorious beard, had me begging him to pick someone else.

I loved my costume. I was a young Ursula in the Poor Unfortunate Souls episode. I took so many pictures of us making funny faces to send to Jacob and promised that if he did not visit us next weekend, I was going to post them all over his Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, and Tiktok.

I had done a fairly decent job at avoiding being alone with Bryce. Even though I now had a new cover for My Monster, My Lover. It was a drawing of Bryce as a Naga. His tail coiled under him three times. A young man lay at his feet, bruises around his torso to show that he had been squeezed to death. Bryce the Naga ignores him in favor of staring at the reader with his hand open, beckoning, daring them to step into his world. My editor loved it.

The Langley Estate was crawling with cars when we made it. Andy promised we would do a walk-through, have a drink, and then make our excuses. An hour and a half tops, he promised. That was almost an hour too long. I knew we would be separated and I would have to contend with the PTA Moms asking when were Andy and I going to get married and when were we going to have kids?

Bryce and his wife were dressed as Hugh Heffner and one of his Playboy Bunnies. A bit of an eyebrow-raiser for an elementary school principal, but she had the body to pull it off, why not flaunt it at least once a year?

A few men who I've seen around the firm, but whose names I immediately forgot after meeting, pulled Andy away who threw an apologetic smile over his shoulder. As soon as he was gone from sight, the PTA vultures descended on me.

"What a lovely costume!"

"You and Andy look so good together!"

"Will there be wedding bells in the near future?"

"This town is overdo for a wedding celebration!"

"Oh, a winter wedding sounds lovely!"

"Or maybe a spring wedding!"

"Why you're hesitating on marrying that man I'll never know!"

"If my Johnny looked like Andrew Barber I would have married him after the first date!"

"And you know you're not getting any younger, dear."

"That's true! Once you hit your thirties, your window for nesting gets smaller and smaller."

"Now, now, ladies. Tonight is about fun and making the most of the little time we have away from our kids." Bryce's wife hooked her arm through mine leading me away from the gaggle of women with no fuss. "I'll make this short. You're already a woman of suspect given your career, and as the ladies say, you've made no efforts to marry Andrew Barber, and are content to live in sin with him."

"I beg your pardon?" I said, pulling my arm away from hers.

"You tempt every decent, married man in this town, but I'm telling you now, stay away from my Bryce." Her cold green eyes glared angrily at me.

"What the hell are you talking about? Your husband is the absolute last man I will ever be interested in."

"Then why were you with him in Joe's the other day?"

"He invited me."

"Oh, I bet he did! You know, he dated a woman like you before we were together."

"A woman like me?" was I really going to have to knock the hell out of Mrs. Langley at her own party?

"Yes. Black. He was as obsessed with her as he was that boy." My anger faded a little and my stomach dropped. Surely, she could not have been talking about the boy from Bryce's dreams. "But if you even think about making a move on my husband then I will do the same with Andy," she threatened me.

I laughed, the sound harsh and spiteful even to my own ears. "If you could do that, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. I don't want your husband. I don't even like him."

"Then why does he say your name when we're in bed?"

The hurt and anger in her eyes would have affected me had I not felt so nauseated over Bryce thinking about me while he was in bed with his wife. "That's something you need to take up with your husband, but I will be sure to tell Andy just how fucked up his new partner and his wife are. You assholes are perfect for each other."

I didn't try to find Andy. I knew I had to get out of that house before I did something to embarrass Andy in front of this ass backward Stepford Wives community.

The fresh air did me good. I still had my purse on me. When Andy was ready to leave he would come and find me. I walked around a little in the backyard, marveling at the natural beauty of the woods behind the sprawling estate. The more I walked, the less angry I began to feel. It made sense that Mrs. Langley would immediately point the blame to me for Bryce saying my name. It had to be easier than looking inward and wondering what it was about herself that made her own husband want someone else. No matter what, though, Andy was going to be pissed that I kept this from him for so long.

I was about ten feet from the house when I heard it. I blinked, looking around me.

The sound was of someone trying and failing to muffle their sobs.

"What?"

I moved towards the sound instinctively. I couldn't discern if it was a child, but it was definitely someone crying. The huge tree that sat before the maze of trees leading to the woods grew larger and even more foreboding the closer I came towards it. I could just make out an image of someone huddled onto themselves crying into their hands.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

"He made me. He made me." The huddled figure rocked back and forth. "I didn't know what he was. I didn't see until he hurt me."

"Who? Who hurt you?"

The huddled figure started to come into focus. They had curly dark locks and big tearful eyes. "Bryce."

"So, this is where you ran off to." I stood up and turned around to find Bryce standing behind me with a little smirk. "What an eventful night you've had."

I glanced behind me, thinking I would need to protect the boy from Bryce, but when I turned he was already gone. "Where--?"

"Ahh, you met the ghost of Finn."

"The ghost--is everyone here out of their goddamn mind?"

"Don't worry about the missus, after tonight, she won't even look your way." He said it so calmly and surely, a small part of me was a little concerned over Mrs. Langley's fate after all the guests were gone. "But back to Finn. He likes to make himself known here if he thinks one of my guests is in danger."

"That--none of that makes sense, Bryce."

"Well, it is a full moon. Lots of strange shit happens on a full moon." He started to move closer to me and here, under the full moon, by this tree that once had a young boy huddled in tears, Bryce felt more than a little unsettling. He felt dangerous. "I never got the chance to tell you about the rest of my dream. It happened here. Right where you're standing."

"I don't need to hear anymore of your story, Bryce. I've already written it and sent it in."

"Does Andy know you're such a shit liar?" Bryce laughed, moving closer for every step I took away from him. "It's okay. I used to be a much better actor in my younger days. Why, I could charm an entire room with just a smile. Nowadays, domestic life has made me lazy. I just can't seem to give a shit anymore."

"Bryce--"

"But we were talking about Finn." Bryce sighed wistfully. "That first night I came in his mouth, I admit I pushed him too far too soon. But I just couldn't help myself. Did you ever see a toy when you were a kid that you wanted so badly that you would do anything to have it? That's how I felt. It wasn't so much about wanting Finn physically. It was the light and inner goodness inside of him. He was so happy and curious and...I just wanted to tear that shit right out of him."

Bryce grabbed me before I could move. He put his hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream. I tried to stay calm. Mama always said predators thrived on the adrenaline of the chase, and Bryce was one hundred percent predator. "He was afraid of me, he was afraid of himself when he was around me. He no longer wanted to be a part of my tribe. So I cast him out. I cast him out in such a way that he would NEVER forget me." Bryce pressed me against the tree. His hand inching my dress up. "I'm not a bad guy, you know? It's been years since I've had that itch, but then Andy comes parading you around and it's like all that progress just goes down the drain, and that unending hunger rose inside me. Now, you're going to help me feed it."

His hand touched the inside of my thigh for only a moment, before his weight disappeared from my back. I could hear screaming and fighting behind me, but like the ghost of Finn, I couldn't uncurl from around myself.

I was sure the screaming came from Mrs. Langley when I heard the shrieks of, 'he didn't mean it!' 'this is all her fault!'

Andy's calming, familiar scent surrounded me. "I'm going to get you out of here now, baby, okay?" I could smell blood on him and I was horrified that Bryce had hurt him. "Sshh, it's okay." I must have said so aloud. "That bastard barely got one punch. This is his blood." Andy picked me up like I weighed nothing. He moved through the crowd who was too stunned to say anything.

We could hear Bryce's laugh behind us. "Does this mean we're not partners anymore, Andrew?"

My fingers curled in Andy's shirt when I felt him tense, itching to turn around and finish the job. His wonderfully soft beard brushed along my forehead in a soothing kiss. "Everything is going to be okay. I promise."

I must have dozed off or blacked out because when I opened my eyes again, we were home and Andy was dabbing at the scrapes across my chest and arms from Bryce pinning me against the tree. He had me laying on the bed while he spoke in low murmurs on his phone.

"I don't care that everyone is going to think it was me. I want it done exactly how I asked." I closed my eyes again before he noticed I was awake. "Physically? Fine. Mentally? I'm not sure." I felt his warm hand against my cheek as he answered the person on the other end. "Far enough. Just text me when it's done." Andy ended the call and left my bedside to take off my shoes. "I know you're awake, sweetheart."

I opened my eyes and sat up. The disinfectant made my wounds sting. I wouldn't ask Andy who he was talking to or what he was planning. I had a feeling, but I'd rather he didn't confirm it.

"I want you to tell me exactly when this started."

I stared at my hands and said, "I've been uncomfortable around Bryce since you introduced us. I never liked the way he looked at me or how he always managed to find me alone." My eyes watered when Andy's hands curled around mine. "I didn't want to say anything because things were finally getting back on track. I convinced myself that these feelings were all in my head. My mama always told me to trust my instincts around people, but with Bryce I didn't listen."

Andy said nothing as he helped me off the bed and into the bathroom where he had the tub filled, waiting for me. He unzipped my gown, easing it off my shoulders. I wished we had never gone to that stupid party. None of this would have happened if we had just sent our regrets and stayed home.

I eased in the tub and watched Andy strip off his costume, exposing every inch of his beautiful body to me so that he could sit behind me in the tub. He started washing my neck and back, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on my tummy.

"I want you to understand something. I don't blame you for anything Bryce said or did to you, but I am furious that you kept the discomfort he brought you to yourself. You and Jacob are everything to me. I don't ever want you to put your feelings aside for mine. Do you understand me?"

He turned me around so that I could look into his eyes. His anger and pain and worry and love and disappointment had me tearing up until I was sobbing against his chest. "I'm sorry," I cried.

Andy held me tight in his arms until I was cried out. "Tomorrow, you're getting a spanking," he said soft, but stern.

"Yes, daddy."

tagging: @georgiapeach30513 @autumnrose40 @specialk-18 @caffiend-queen @geminixevans @angrythingstarlight @afriendlyblackhottie @avintagekiss24 @indyluckycharlie @the-iceni-bitch @slothspaghettiwrites @giorno-plays-piano @cherienymphe @navybrat817 @nellblazer @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @wayward-blonde @luxeavenger @boxofbonesfic @xxindiglow @river-soul @sweetlyscared @gotnofucks @foxgloveprincess @lotusss-flowerbomb

#andy barber #andy barber x black!reader #bryce langley #finn earl #asks #my asks #asks answered #spooky season

241 notes · View notes

crystalwolfblog · 3 years

Text

I Can’t Sleep Without You || Ivar x reader || Modern

This is my fic created for @ofmanderley’s writing challenge. My prompt was: It's 4:03 and I can't sleep without you next to me.

First of all I need to apologize because I am SUPER late with my work but life was kinda crazy and writing block wasn’t kind!

Hope you will like it!

Being with Ivar Ragnarsson wasn't an easy task to perform. He was a man of a short temper; he could be cruel and mean but thankfully for him you were out of the reach of his anger. Ivar always did his best to keep his raging nerves away from you. For him, you were his little treasure, a lovely woman who was patient enough to even try to form any kind of relationship with him.

You got used to this life and no matter what everyone said, you stayed by his side.

Of course you didn't do this because Ivar forced you or blackmailed you. The love towards this man was simply too strong within you.

After two years of being together you learned that behind that huge, thick wall he built around himself was a suffering, lonely man that craved to be loved.

____________________________

There was one thing you loved to do right after work - paying a visit in the local cafe. It was a quiet, little, cozy place. You sat at your favourite table and placed your usual order - a cup of coffee and a piece of pie.

Last thing you expected that day was to see a familiar face.

"Y/N, I didn't expect to see you here," Bjørn smiled, sitting in the chair right in front of you.

"Hi, Bjørn," you greeted him, returning the smile. "How are you doing?"

Eldest Ragnarsson nodded. "Oh, I am doing just fine. Since I have a break at work, I decided to get myself a coffee and something sweet."

____________________________

"So, when do you have this big game of yours?," Ubbe asked, looking into his phone.

"Seriously? I am going on and on about it for weeks now. It's this weekend, Saturday to be exact," Hvitserk rolled his eyes; he grew annoyed by repeating himself on and on.

"Forgive him. I guess the family takes a lot out of our dear brother," Ivar chuckled.

All three of them walked down the street.

It was the first time in months when they could just meet and go out. Even if they didn't plan anything crazy, it still was nice to get reunited.

"I at least have a family, Ivar. You and Y/N could think about it as well," Ubbe shrugged, placing the phone back in his pocket. "Mother is still talking about it."

"Mother will talk. We both feel comfortable with how things are for now. I am not pushing her and she is not pushing me, to anything. We just live the best of our lives and we both are happy about that," Ivar answered, nodding.

"I mean, that's sound fair," Hvitserk commented.

Boys quickly changed the subject to something far way interesting to talk about. They walked lively as they talked about some stuff.

The nice atmosphere lasted until Hvitserk stopped in front of a little cafe. Through the cafe's big window he spotted a familiar person, actually two to be exact.

You were sitting there, talking with Bjørn and giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Yo, Ivar? Isn't it Y/N?”

Ubbe and Ivar looked over their shoulders, and then joined Hvitserk.

Ivar frowned as soon as he spotted you.

Of course you going out wasn't a problem for him, you were a free woman after all but meeting with Bjørn? Out of all the people?! Fucking Bjørn. What else?! Maybe you were doing it regularly behind his back?

"I am going back home. Whatever idea you two had, go without me, I’m passing," crippled, young man muttered, tightening the grip on his crutch.

There was no reason to argue with Ivar at that point. They could see that he was pissed and arguing with angry Ivar was like teasing a bull with a red cape, it was the last thing they really needed that day or ever.

Ubbe and Hvitserk just shook their heads and then slowly walked away.

____________________________

You had no idea how long you sat there but you couldn't help it. Talking with Bjørn was really captivating. While listening to one of his stories you looked at your watch. "Oh, my! Bjørn, I am so sorry but I should go. I still have plans."

Bjørn looked at you and nodded slowly. “Yeah, sure. It was really nice to see you."

"Same! We need to meet up one day. Bye!," You quickly paid and left the cafe.

____________________________

The walk home was calm, you even texted Ivar that you are on the way back but for some reason he didn't respond. Maybe this should be a red flag but you shrugged it off, he probably was still with his brothers.

You didn't expect to see him in the flat. He was sitting on the couch, tapping his fingers angrily. It was more than obvious that he was mad.

"Love? Did something happen?," You asked, taking your jacket off.

"I don't know. You tell me, love."

Walking into the living room you looked at him with confusion written on your face. At this point you had no idea what he meant.

"What? You gonna stand there and make a fool out of me? You thought I won't find you? I wonder how long you go behind my back!,” Ivar growled, getting up from the couch.

Then it suddenly hit you. Did he see you in the cafe? After all he was out with Hvitserk and Ubbe, so there was a slight chance he did.

"Ivar. It's not like that. I was in a cafe and Bjørn just happened to be there as well."

"He? Happened to be there?," Ivar chuckled darkly. "You are blind, stupid or both!"

His behaviour was getting out of hand but his accusations were too much for you to handle.

"Excuse me? Watch your words, Ivar."

"Me?! Watch my words?! These are words of truth! He was following you those fucking eyes ever since I brought you home for the first time. Ever since that day he accidentally happened to be in places that you are!," Ivar growled, shaking his head. "Of course you had to fall for this. What's next?! Are you gonna fuck him? Or Maybe Hvitserk?”

You went silent. How could he even have thought about something like that? He was hard to live with but you would never cheat on him, no matter how moody or annoying he was. His words cut you deeply.

The lack of response meant as much as a yes for him.

"Fuck it. I am leaving, no idea when I will be back," Ivar muttered and walked to a hanger to grab his jacket before leaving.

The door slammed loudly that you literally jumped in the place.

____________________________

House without Ivar seemed empty.

Maybe it was stupind to miss him after this argument but you couldn't help it. You really loved that man, no matter how moody he was. Even if it was hard to love him, you knew that he was different deep inside.

Laying in bed alone was odd, without his body next to yours. He always was there, mostly complaining about his legs or just talking about his day and how annoying his brothers were.

Sighing, you took his pillow and hugged it tightly, you wanted him back but he needed time to cool down. Looking at the clock helped you realize how sleepless your night was. It was almost morning.

____________________________

Ivar also couldn't sleep. He just lied in bed, smoking and looking into the ceiling. Aslaug would prabobly murder him for smoking inside the house but he didn't care, it's not like she would kick her crippled son out of the house.

Puffing out the smoke he watched it disappearing in the air.

He already missed you, so fucking much. Ivar looked at the bedside table and grabbed his phone to check the time.

____________________________

Trying to get some sleep, you laid on the bed, with eyes closed and Ivar's pillow under your head.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed.

You sat up and grabbed it; maybe it was Hvitserk? Or Ubbe? Maybe Aslaug? Maybe something happened to Ivar? You simply had to know.

To your own surprise, it was text from Ivar himself.

Ivar ❤️😈: It's 4:03 and I can't sleep without you next to me.

Chuckling, you felt the wave of relief washing over you. He was alive.

You: I can say the same. Where are you?

Ivar ❤️😈: I am at my parent's house.

You: I am happy that you are safe.

Meantime Ivar blonked looking at the screen. You were happy he was safe? You were worried about him.

Ivar ❤️😈: Were you worried?

You: Of course I was, dummy. I am always worried. Listen, I just want you to know that I don't care about Bjørn. All I care about is you, Ivar. Always and forever.

He looked at the text. You didn't have a reason to hurt him in any way, you always were patient with him. Even when he was a total asshole. No matter if the day was regular or filled with pain, you just were there for him.

Maybe the fear of losing you just clouded his judgement? Bjørn wasn't like him, he was a strong and healthy man when he was just a cripple. Who the hell would pick a cripple over a healthy man?!

He was jealous and scared but it was time to fix it.

____________________________

You waited at the message but nothing came. Maybe he just fell asleep or didn't care about your empty (for him at least) arguments. After giving him fifteen minutes, you send another text to make sure he is okay, and surprisingly you heard the sound of the SMS notification in the flat.

Ivar opened the door to your shared bedroom and rested his weight on the crutch, looking at you. Without any word he walked to the bed and sat down. He removed his braces, clothes, and soon you were wrapped in a tight hug.

"I am sorry," Ivar whispered.

You nuzzled to him. "It's fine."

"It's not, Y/N. I hurt you... All because of my insecurities. I was furious, he is Bjørn, big, strong, healthy. I am none of that, and you are beautiful, special. You deserve better,``he muttered, nuzzling to you.

While listening to him, you undone his bun and moved your hand through his hair. "Silly! I love you. I love you so much, no matter what. You are hard to deal with sometimes, that’s true but I still love you."

"You are too good to me, you know that?”

Giggling, you gently pulled on his hair, earning a soft growl from him. "You should be grateful and not point it out," you kissed his forehead. "We should get some sleep."

Ivar nodded, hugging you tightly. "Yeah, you are right."

Soon, both of you fell asleep, embracing each other tightly.

____________________________

#ofmanderley300 #ivar the boneless #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar ragnarsson #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless x hvitserk #hvitserk #ubbe #bjorn ironside #ivar the boneless fluff #writing challenge #ivar the boneless oneshot #ivar the boneless one shot #ivar the boneless fic

255 notes · View notes

thinkingoutlouddblog · 3 years

Text

butterfly effect: one

His mouth is slightly ajar, surely shocked to be seeing the girl of his past so far from where he had left her. I myself try to compute what I am seeing, but my brain is running so fast from the adrenaline, the gravity of what is occurring hardly registers.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Word Count: 6k+

Includes: mob!h, mentions of blood, scary dudes late at night, and the set up for my favourite story I’ve ever written!

A/N: guys I am so excited about this story! I swear writing this is the only thing holding me together (so don’t let it flop lmao). It is 2AM pray for me.

My inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat about this series! I love to gab, and constructive criticism is very much appreciated. I want this to be as good as possible!!

butterfly effect masterlist // my masterlist

now

It is not until it is already too late that I realise I should have just ordered an uber.

Alex was very insistent that I order one home from my late shift at the pub. He had even offered to split the cost, knowing without needing to ask this was the cause of my hesitation. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it. Strictly speaking, I could. I was just keenly aware of the amount of material I could buy with the amount a late night uber in London would cost me. I would never take him up on his offer. He needed the money just as much as I did.

“It’s okay, I’m good for it,” I gave him a little smile. He was sitting in front of his mirror in his room, midway through getting ready for work. I had simply come to say goodbye before I left for my shift when he had grabbed me by the hand and demanded I ordered an uber home.

“Babe, you have to promise me.”

“I promise!” I stared exaggeratedly into his eyes as I spoke, emphasising my honesty.

In that moment, I made peace with the money I would be losing from my fabric budget. I calculated this budget, of course, by subtracting living expenses from my weekly income. My best friend wanted to make sure I got home safe, wanted the peace of mind while he was working that I would be fine. Who was I to say no to that?

“Make sure you text me when you get into the uber and once you make it up to the apartment.” My chest flooded with warmth at the love and care in his voice. It was moments like these I really sat back and thanked my lucky stars that Alex was in my life.

So, of course I was just going to bite the bullet and order the uber. Of course.

Except, well.

I couldn’t help but think how quickly I got from our place to work. We had picked the apartment just one short month ago, heavily considering the advantage of its walking distance to my work. The King’s Arms was just one block up and down the road. It was barely a fifteen-minute walk. Shorter than that if I took the shortcut down the alleyway back to our block, saving me from walking further down the road and looping back around. It would probably take me longer to get home via uber, once you account for the time spent waiting for it to arrive.

A ten-minute walk home wouldn’t kill me, surely.

The contemplation was pushed from my mind for the duration of my busy Saturday night shift. It was my least favourite shift of the week, as I spent each week chasing after middle aged men getting rowdy in the excitement of watching whatever sport was on TV. The King’s Arm was small, but it was a local favourite known for its homey pub meals, reasonably priced pints and good atmosphere. Much to my contempt they didn’t keep a large staff pool, preferring a smaller, well-trained, reliable bunch. Which was great in theory until it left me to run around like my hair is on fire on a night as busy as tonight.

I was capable of serving everyone well and in a timely manner, but it wasn’t exactly a stroll in the park. More like a seven-hour long sprint, with a half hour break in the middle.

As the final game for the night ended, the crowd slowly but surely thinned until just a couple of small groups remained.

“Hey y/n, are you okay to lock up by yourself if I head home in five?” my manager, Rachel asked me half an hour before close. “I have some time I need to take back,” she added in explanation.

“Of course, you go get out of here.” I knew she wasn’t lying when she said she had some time to take back, putting in all sorts of extra hours to keep the place in tip top shape. I liked Nicola, and I had certainly been working there long enough to handle a couple of customers and lock up by myself. Even if I didn’t like Rachel and thought she was slacking off, I couldn’t exactly argue. She was both my boss and the owner’s daughter, probably not far off becoming the owner herself.

“Are you sure?” She asked, eyeing the few men still seated, probably triple checking she didn’t think they were any kind of threat.

“Yes,” I laughed, “now scram, before I change my mind.”

“Alright if you insist,” she said, already making her way towards her bag.

“Ring me if you need anything! Good night!” She called over her shoulder as she exited through the kitchen door. The cook had gone home ten minutes earlier, the pub serving only drinks the hour before close at midnight.

“Night!” I called back.

I made quick work of what little cleaning there was left to do, and gently reminded the remaining patrons we closed in half an hour. To my surprise they were agreeable and friendly, one of them instantly assuring me, “Don’t worry love we’ll be out of your hair soon, won’t make you stay back late.”

Usually the kind of people that were in the pub this late had no care for closing time, believing that pertained simply to whenever they decided they wanted to leave.

True to his word, everyone was out with ten minutes to spare and I was able to clean their dishes and tables with the remaining time they had granted me. I locked the door to The King’s Arms at 12 o’clock on the dot and riding the high of such an easy close, took not a moment in deciding I was in fact going to walk home.

To Alex: Just ordered an uber!

I felt guilty lying, but I would rather lie than have Alex worrying over nothing. I would be home in a flash, keys secured firmly in between my knuckles the whole way. I felt far safer on the move than waiting out the front of work for an uber anyway.

I kept a fast pace, left only to debate whether I took my shortcut or stuck to the street. I checked over my shoulder, and seeing absolutely no one around, made a quick right turn into the alleyway between two buildings.

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket as I heard the ding of a text notification. I glance down at my screen, reading as I walk.

From Alex: Amazing! I should be home in a couple hours, text me when you get home safe. Love you x

I don’t register the hushed growling tones as I continue making my way down the alley, still looking down at my phone as I type a simple ‘love you’ in reply. It isn’t uncommon to hear the conversations of tenants on the lower levels of these apartment buildings as you walk down the street. Walls are thin and many windows generally left open. It is easy to consign this particular conversation among the other non-threatening city sounds until I eventually look back up from my phone.

I am immediately faced with a most unfavourable scene, under the single light that illuminates this alley, are the two men who I now recognise to be the source of the argument I had barely registered. The first man is tall, dressed in all black, thick muscles protruding through his t-shirt. He towered over the second man who contrasted him starkly in his bright red adidas tracksuit. The tall man’s presence would be dominating the space, even if he didn’t have his dark forearm pressed firmly against the smaller man’s throat.

I clamp a hand over my mouth, stopping myself from yelping stupidly and drawing attention to myself. They haven’t noticed my presence. A witness to whatever it was that was occurring here.

“See all I’m hearing is excuses, bruv,” the tall man’s accent is distinctly that of someone from South London. His tone is aggressive, but even. He knows he has the upper hand and it is clearly not his first rodeo threatening people. This is exactly the kind of person I could’ve avoided encountering by simply ordering an uber.

I snap out of my shocked daze and start to turn to make a swift and stealthy departure. I’m no fool. I know there is a definitive gang presence around here. I also know, if you leave them alone, they too shall (hopefully)leave you. All hopes of making such an exit are of course foiled as soon as my foot connects with an empty beer bottle on my first step.

The two men’s heads snap towards me instantly. I expect the shorter man to ask for help, to say something, but his mouth remains clamped shut. Gang business. He is in a bigger mess than someone like me can ever save him from. The taller man’s eyes narrow. After the briefest moments of standing there frozen, caught, I spin on my heel and run as fast as my feet can carry me.

I run back to the route I should have taken, cursing myself all the way for being naïve enough to believe that nothing bad could happen to me on something as simple as a walk home from work. That women who were raped, kidnapped and murdered from off the street were somehow removed from me. That was something only on the news in my world. Not something that was possibly about to occur.

My heart hammers in my chest as I make the split-second decision, I am safer running all the way home than running as far as I can from the scene of the crime. I’m going to run all the way up the stairs to my fifth-floor apartment, and I am going to lock the door behind me. I turn the corner back up to my block, not slowing down for a second.

I am so quick in fact, that as I come flying around the next corner towards my apartment, I nearly barrel straight into someone. He was clearly walking with some pace too, because he narrowly prevents us crashing into each other head on, but he is a second too slow in his reaction time because I trip straight over his feet. I hardly even see him, even as I am falling straight over him. All I see is brown hair and a dark suit before I’m staring straight at the pavement flying towards my face. I barely manage to throw my forearms out to break my fall as I hit the pavement at speed.

“Jesus,” the man mutters, but the only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing and my own blood pounding in my ears.

I’m on the ground now, I register for a second before my flight response kicks back in.

I don’t even feel the sting of the scrapes with the adrenaline coursing through me, already attempting to scramble up and get as far away as possible from this stranger. “I’m so sorry!” I manage to call as I pick myself and my keys up, gearing up to get moving once more.

“Honey?”

No. It absolutely could not possibly be. There was only one person on this planet who had ever called me by that name.

I stop dead in my tracks. That voice. It’s deeper than I remember but undoubtedly familiar. Familiar seems too simple a word. That voice had echoed around the halls of my brain for years. Even now, six years later, it was not gone but buried, waiting for a simple trigger to spark my memory and bring that beautiful sound back to the forefront my mind. Some days I swear I remembered it like I had just heard it moments ago.

Except now, I really had heard him.

Slowly, I turned to face him.

It’s Harry, and he’s here and the two of you need to get out of there right now.

Before he can verbalise any of the questions on the tip of his tongue, I grab his hand in my own, and yank him forward as I continue running home.

Realistically, I know that we now outnumber whoever it was that may be coming after me and I know even six years since I’ve last seen him, I am always safe with Harry. He proved that in many ways, and more than once, while I knew him. I was not, however, willing to risk the tall man pulling a knife on Harry. I didn’t even want to put him in a situation where it was a battle of fists. Though I did know from experience he could more than hold his own.

“What’s going on?” he yells as we run down the street, rapidly approaching the exit of the alleyway I had fled.

I gradually reduce our pace until we are speed-walking past the alleyway. Tempted as I am to see if they are still there, I keep my eyes trained forward, praying they aren’t there watching us as we pass by.

As soon as we have cleared it, I’m straight back to my running pace, forcing Harry to accelerate speed once more.

“I’ll explain inside,” I call over my shoulder in answer to his earlier question.

Now that I felt a degree safer with Harry’s presence, I had the capacity to feel thankful I had opted for a boiler suit and converse for tonight to accommodate for the Saturday night rush. This run would have been hell if I had worn a skirt and a heeled boot instead.

“Inside where?” He’s laughing as he speaks and as the fear loosens its grip on me, the déjà vu begins to battle for dominance. That laugh had brightened my every day for long enough to leave a mark on my soul. Fleeting as it was, that single sound reignited the shine it had once left.

His question was answered when we came to a screeching halt in front of my apartment. It took me two tries to input my security code correctly, my brain and hands both moving quickly, but not quite matching up. Eventually, the door clicked, and I was able to swing it open, tugging Harry in after me.

I didn’t stop dragging him along behind me until we had taken all five flights of stairs up to my apartment two at a time.

“y/n…” he attempted to grab my attention when we first entered the building, but I was not to be deterred until we had reached the absolute safety of my apartment. I shushed him, not wanting to receive a noise complaint from my new neighbours. I supposed having such a thought was a good sign, my consciousness beginning to register it was not in any imminent danger.

I huffed and puffed as we landed at the doorstep of apartment 5B, the place I loved to call home. Harry, I noticed, was barely short of breath. He had always been a runner when we were in high school. I wondered if he kept up the habit even now.

My hands shook as I located the correct key on my chain, body still shaking from the excitement of the events of the past five minutes. I struggled to align the key with the lock with my left hand, unthinking of the fact my right was still firmly in Harry’s hold.

“Let me,” he murmured, already moving his right hand to take the key. I said nothing, simply surrendering it over to him.

His hands were steady as anything as he turned the key, granting us entrance into my home. I released a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. I finally stopped just past the door, my back to Harry as he shut it behind him. I took a few deep breaths, trying so desperately to ground myself.

Was any of this even real? The sketchy characters I could believe in a heartbeat, Harry Styles’ presence, however, was harder to grasp.

But there his hand was, in my own, even if I couldn’t see him.

Harry stood back and let me take this moment to myself, keenly aware of how much I needed it. He knew I needed to take pause and re-centre myself otherwise I would only shut down. He was also aware of my injured state though, even if I wasn’t.

“y/n, you’re bleeding.”

“Oh,” my head snapped back to look at my arm. In the rush to get home, the blood from the scrapes on my arm had run down my arm and dripped into our connected hands. I quickly released my grasp on him. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“A little bit of blood never hurt anyone,” he quickly dismissed. “Unless you’re the one that’s bleeding, in which case you better get cleaned up as soon as possible.

“Luckily you have me here to play nurse. Just lead the way to the nearest bathroom,” he gave me a little cheeky grin, clearly trying to lift your spirits. The subtle playfulness is not as natural as it once was, but it is certainly reminiscent of our old dynamic. The surrealism of this whole thing goes straight to my head, clouding my ability to form full, coherent thoughts.

Somehow, I manage to come out with, “I think you mean our only bathroom,” in response.

He grunts a laugh, but he hasn’t missed the use of the word our.

I walk like a zombie, leading him through the hallway past the living room and the kitchen to the bathroom. I hold my forearms up in an attempt to redirect the flow of the blood and prevent it from dripping from my fingertips onto the floor. As I slowly came out of survival mode, my awareness of the stinging of my forearms became increasingly prominent. I was sure my hip and knees were going to be bruised pretty badly too. I really hadn’t managed to slow down at all before all my momentum came crashing into the cement.

“Do you have a first aid kit?” He asks upon our arrival to the bathroom.

“Under the sink.”

My eyes trail over the mess Alex and I had left in our rush to get ready.

I tend to procrastinate getting ready for as long as possible, busying myself with just about anything else. Generally, it will be tidying up the mess I’ve made during the day, only for me to create a whole new one in my hurry to get ready for my shift on time. Alex on the other hand, always leaves plenty of time to perfect his look before leaving for the night. Despite having the time to do so, he never cleans as he goes. Leaving his many products and deliberated outfits spread far and wide. Luckily most of his mess was confined to his bedroom, the only trace of him in the bathroom skincare and hair products (though there wasn’t a limited amount of those, either).

“I’m sorry for the mess,” I speak quietly watching Harry get his bearings, standing helplessly as I bled, hands still raised.

“Nonsense,” he doesn’t look at me as he speaks, jumping into action.

Harry turns the faucet on in the sink before opening the cupboard door and grabbing the first aid kid out. It was actually sort of a miracle Alex and I had one. It had been on a list of “Things You Need for a New Apartment” I had googled, scared we were missing important things. At the time, I had deliberated longer than necessary over whether to get one. I couldn’t remember the last time I had required anything more than a band aid for any given ailment. The deciding factor had been the memory of Alex getting into a couple of scrapes while out over the years. It had never been anything major, the worst injury he ever sustained being a bruised jaw, but it was better to be safe than sorry, I decided.

Turns out, that decision was for the best.

He gently touches his fingertips to my right arm, which had copped the brunt of it. With the softest touch, he delicately guided my arm under the stream of water. As I stepped forward to lean over the sink and wash away the dirt of the footpath, he stepped backwards, giving me my space.

I winced at the initial contact of the water as it ran red. I risked a glance at my reflection. Sweaty brow, the light lazy work makeup I had applied half off my face. I quickly diverted my gaze back to my injured arm. This was not exactly how I pictured our reunion. I had hardly ever even pictured it, I was so sure that I would never see Harry again.

I wondered if this silence was as heavy as I thought it was. Everything about him felt so familiar, yet so different. Up until this moment it felt like being in the presence of a friend, but now I realised, he was closer to a stranger.

I knew the person he once was, a sweet but fucked up kid who had been forced to become a man too early. Someone who had his walls a mile high around almost everyone. Almost. The boy who painted his nails on lunch breaks and was friends with everyone but somehow also no one. Until he was friends with me. Then he was the boy who always sat to my left from the first bell of the school day to the last. Back then, I knew him from the inside out, just as he knew me.

He was my greatest joy of those years. Then he was my greatest heartbreak. Now, he was just some guy I used to know who I had plucked straight up off the street, looking very out of place in what was clearly a designer suit in my tiny apartment.

He looked through the first aid kit as I ensured the entirety of the scrape was rinsed. It extended most of the way from my elbow to my wrist, but more pressingly in my mind, it now stung like a bitch. Once the water rain clear as it ran off my arm, I moved onto the much smaller and shallower scrape on my left elbow, working quickly to get it clean.

Most of the bleeding had stopped, only a few spots on my right arm still dotting with blood. I leaned over the sink to prevent the water from dripping onto the floor.

I cleared my throat, nervous to break the silence.

“Can you please grab me that towel?” I nodded my head towards the black hand towel hung behind Harry.

His eyes snapped upwards from the first aid kit he had been busying himself with. I was sure he had been surveying it more thoroughly than strictly necessary, trying to detract from the awkward energy which had crept up on us. We made brief eye contact through the mirror. My breath caught in my throat. The moment was over as soon as it began as he turned wordlessly to grab the towel.

He holds it in his hand, hesitating before handing it over, “Did you want me to…?” he trails off, growing awkward in his offer. He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. She barely knows you, back off, he tells himself.

“No that’s okay,” I speak gently, and he quickly passes the towel to me. I get to work patting my arms down delicately.

“Thank you though,” I add, hating the unsure look on his face. I meet his eye, giving him a smile I hope is reassuring.

“Okay, let’s get you sitting down so I can fix you up,” he returns your smile with a slight upturn of the right side of his mouth.

I relocate to the little dining table Alex and I had bought at Ikea just a week prior. Harry isn’t far behind, washing his hands before joining me to tend to my wounds. He lays out everything he is going to need from the first aid kit before holding his hand out. Like an idiot, I stare at his hand without moving for a beat too long before jerkily offering my right arm up.

He laughs silently as he turns my arm over, analysing it carefully.

“So, do you often go for runs at midnight?” He asks as he unscrews the lid on the Vaseline.

“Yeah all the time. I just don’t normally take people from the street with me.”

“Is that all I am? A person on the street?” He tries to keep his tone light, but I can tell he was hurt by my choice of words.

I expect to feel guilty, but a burst of anger I thought I had long gotten over flares in my chest. It isn’t as red hot and overwhelming as it had been years before – I’d definitely had my fair share of time to cool off – but I’m still surprised by the sting of it.

He was the one that made himself a stranger to me, and now he’s upset when I’m stating the fact that he made a reality.

Despite myself, I tried not to come across too harshly in my response. I was never one for confrontation.

“I mean, I haven’t heard from you in six years.”

He is very careful not to lift his eyes from my injuries as he carefully applies the petroleum jelly. I stare down at him, desperate to catch his eye.

There’s a pause as I wait for him to offer some kind of explanation. Some perfectly good reason why my best friend and first love left town without telling me why, or where he was going, and then never contacted me again.

When he doesn’t fill the silence, I sigh as quietly as I can manage. You don’t really know him, I remind myself. I practically kidnapped him, I can’t just go asking him to rehash history. It was so clear that he was what he had wanted me to be. History.

“I just mean, I don’t really know you anymore. I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I just,” I hissed at the sting of his first aid, “I was walking home from work and I saw these really sketchy looking guys.”

“Sketchy looking?” He finally looked up at me, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“Well I guess they didn’t really look sketchy in their appearance particularly, it was more the fact that one of them was practically choking the other. They were arguing over something. I think it was something to do with some of the gangs around here,” I attempted a nonchalant tone, not wanting to worry him. The less phased I seemed, the better. I had caused him enough trouble. The only thing that was probably stopping him from running for the hills and never looking back (again) was guilt.

I go on to explain how I’d kicked that stupid beer bottle and taken off running, “which is when I ran into you. I’m really sorry about that, by the way. I’m so glad I didn’t take you down with me I think I would’ve died of a mix of guilt and embarrassment right then and there.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Ho-“he cut himself before his mouth could form that name he had so affectionately given you. “I’m the one who feels guilty, if not for my big, slow feet you wouldn’t have bit the dust.” I laugh at his turn of phrase.

His face suddenly grows serious. “Your head is okay, right?”

Instinctively, my left hand shoots up to the back of my head, ghosting over the slight bump hidden under my hair. The scar tissue was ever so minimally raised, only perceptible to a knowing touch. I retract my hand bashfully, slightly embarrassed by my knee jerk reaction.

“It’s fine,” I match his serious tone, before lightening it up, “as you can see, I managed to break most of my fall,” I gesture to my right arm he has paused work on.

He holds my gaze for a moment longer, discerning whether he thinks I am downplaying anything. He picks up the dressing, moving onto the next phase of his treatment plan.

“And they don’t feel broken? You can move your wrists okay without too much pain?”

My heart swells at his concern. I stamp out the small joy as soon as it flared up. It’s guilt that’s fuelling him. Nothing else.

I shake my head no. He looks up once more, having missed the gesture in his concentration. “Sorry! No. All bumps and bruises. I’m fine honestly, I probably majorly overexaggerated the whole thing and freaked out for nothing. I’m really sorry about all this, its so late at night.”

“Don’t apologise,” he says firmly. “It’s not your fault and you did exactly the right thing by making a break fo’ it. You never know what could’ve happened. Ya’ know. Out late. By yourself. In the dark.”

My face burned red with shame, but also defiance. I knew what I did was stupid and extremely risky, but I also didn’t think I needed a lecture about it in this moment. The fear still coursing through me and my scraped-up arms were surely lesson enough.

“I could say the same thing to you,” I countered.

We both knew my argument didn’t hold up very well. He was a man out alone at night. There was obviously a risk there, but it wasn’t the same.

We also both knew, I wasn’t really trying to start a debate. Just signalling to him I didn’t want to get into it and wanted to move on.

“I was walking to the tube from a mate’s place,” he explained simply, letting me off the hook.

He had begun to tape the dressing down to my skin, securing it safely. He worked expertly. Even if I didn’t already know, I would have said this was one of many times he had done some at home first aid.

“In a designer suit?” I questioned. There were two things I was asking, but also not saying. Was this the kind of ‘mate’ you wine and dine before going home with them? And what happened to that poor kid from Holmes Chapel I once knew?

“I came straight from work.”

Jesus he wasn’t giving me a lot to work with in the way of details.

“Oh,” I say lamely, not wanting to pry. As much as I could tell myself (and him) that I didn’t really know him anymore and he was basically a stranger, it still hurt to be treated like one. We used to be so open with one another. The one thing I ever kept from him was how I truly felt about him.

“I work in finance,” he offers up after a beat of silence. “It uh- I’m pretty lucky to have the job I do,” he alludes to his financial standing, obviously wanting to acknowledge the contrast comparative to how I knew him. A boy not even of eighteen, fending for himself while trying to complete his high school education.

My face practically split in two with the size of the smile on my face at his words. “I’m so happy for you, Harry,” I say, hoping he can see how genuinely I mean it.

“Thank you.”

“Are you happy, H?” The question slips out before I can stop it. Internally, I kick myself. Externally, I try to keep my face neutral, yet interested. That’s a perfectly normal question to ask. Totally.

“Um,” he switches to my left elbow, making quicker work of the smaller wound. “I think so. In my experience you never realise how happy you are until you aren’t. But still, I think I am.”

“Good,” I say firmly. “I’m glad.”

“What about you?” He turns the questioning back on you. “What’s your story?”

“Oh, you know. The sad story of the girl chasing a dream,” I nodded my head towards the sewing machine stationed at the other end of the table.

“Don’t say that!” His tone jests, but he is serious as he speaks. “I think it would be far sadder if I discovered that your talent was going to waste. I’m really glad to hear that actually,” he half says the last sentence to himself, concentrating on fixing his dressing properly on the more difficult angle of my elbow.

“There you go,” he gleams as he admires his handy work. “Good as new.”

“Thank you so much, Harry. I’m so sorry for all this-“

“Not your fault,” he quickly dismisses.

“Even so, I’m sorry for all the trouble. I’ll pay for an uber home for you or something,” I try to come up with something to offer him that can even begin to repay him for his help.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” His brow creases in concern.

“Oh, Alex should be-“ I smack a hand over my mouth, realising I never texted him to let him know I had gotten home okay.

“Oh fuck,” I remove my hand from my mouth. I gingerly fish my phone out of my back pocket, muscles beginning to protest, the impact of that fall settling in.

Four missed calls and a flurry of text messages. My phone had automatically turned onto ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode as scheduled at 12:30. I hadn’t been notified of any of it and he had definitely assumed the worst.

“Is everything okay?”

“I forgot to text him and let him know I made it home okay,” I don’t look up as I speak, opening our text chat.

From Alex: I’m coming home

Received ten minutes ago.

“Your boyfriend?” He questioned, keeping his face impassive. That had my head shooting up.

“Uh-“ I began, but cut myself off as the unmistakeable sound of heeled feet running up the stairs to our apartment ran out loud and clear.

Shit.

Before I could even think what to say next, Alex’s key was in the lock. The door swung open, smacking the wall with the force of it.

Both Harry and Alex’s brows hit their bloody hairline I swear. Or more accurately, Lexie’s.

There my best friend and roommate stood, in full drag, light catching the sequins of the pink mini-dress I had sewn myself. If I weren’t standing there with the guiltiest expression of my life, I would be thinking about how stunning she looked.

Harry looked between the two of you, as Lexie did the same. Both trying to catch their brains up to what they were seeing. I myself was at a loss for words. I probably should have started with, “Lex, I am so sorry,” but Harry broke the silence first.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he breathed, transfixed by the look Lexie had created. Drag was an art form, and she was quite the artist. He was not the first to become enchanted upon first look, and he certainly would not be the last.

Lexie narrowed her eyes at Harry, jaw falling slightly open at the audacity of the acknowledgement in this moment. She had little patience for besotted strangers in moments like this. Her narrowed eyes moved to mine, face filling with rage.

“Lex-“ I begin, but am cut off for what seems to be the millionth time tonight with the simple raise of her hand. The close of my mouth is instant. I was not about to make this any worse.

“Bitch, if you do not have a very good explanation for this,” she breathes deeply, trying to gain her composure, “I am going to fucking kill you.”

********

As soon as he is out of your apartment and onto the street, his phone is in his hand. Fingers not able to press to type the message fast enough for his liking.

From Harry: We need to talk. I saw her.

As soon as the message was delivered, he was returning the calls he had silenced in y/n’s presence. The moment she had turned her back and left him to wash his hands, he had turned his phone to airplane mode.

“Jesus Christ bruv, I thought you were dead,” Michael joked as soon as he picked up.

The two of them had parted ways for what should’ve been five or ten minutes. Harry hadn’t seen it happen, just heard the clatter of the beer bottle as it skated along the ground and the screeching halt in the argument. He had been waiting patiently for Michael to finish working in the shadowy doorway to the side. He hadn’t seen a thing, and he was sure from his concealed position, whoever had seen Mike hadn’t seen him. So, he obligingly offered to take a walk, ensure she hadn’t gone calling the police.

He had just been bored. Ready to go home and have a drink with Michael so he could have a bitch and a moan about work. It always left him feeling better when he returned on Monday. He was killing time, that was all. He hadn’t expected to stumble over the girl who had changed everything.

Harry didn’t take time to explain his extended absence, moving straight along to what he had called for. Just like Mike, he preferred to skip the pleasantries.

“I need you to subtly divert as much traffic from this block as possible,” he didn’t ask. He never asked. It was always an instruction with him. In this business, asking nicely didn’t exactly lend itself to going far.

“What’s this about?” Harry gritted his teeth. He did not enjoy having his authority questioned. The only reason Michael would get away with it was because of their pre-existing friendship. Even then. Harry was not exactly in a forgiving mood. Made all the worse when Mike added, “This isn’t about that girl from the alley is it?”

Michael had his answer when Harry said only, “Get it done or I’ll have your fookin’ head.”

chat with me about butterfly effect!

176 notes · View notes

savagetrickster · 4 years

Text

Stay with Me | BNHA

request: Hi! Can I request a scenario where Bakugou thought that reader was starting to lose interest, but in reality reader is just really busy and doesn’t realize she’s treating baku differently and Bakugou confronting her about it then it ends with some fluff fluff. 💖 p.s luv ur work

anime | character: bnha | bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1949

themes/warnings: soft!bakugou, insecure bakugou, college AU

a/n: sorry for not posting a fic in such a long time, I’ve been SO busy. so anyway, okay I kinda went little off-track and ended up writing the way it is shown below but i hope you’ll still enjoy reading this, though i have to say I’m not really fond of how it turned out. this fic has not been beta-ed so pardon me if you find any cringey error.

The city of Musutafu moved as sluggishly as possible for a city of its size and caliber. It was one of those days when the moon was mostly hidden behind the clouds.

Kirishima let his eyes roam the street outside. The inhabitants of the boulevard were constantly on the move despite being a Saturday; it was a startling contrast to the cafe they sat in where a comfortable nonchalance clung to every aspect of the little business.

The slow, sleepy music playing from the speakers.

The casual yet practiced movements of the baristas as they prepared the orders.

The lazy, idling manners in the way the customers brought their cups to their lips. Carrying every bit of thoughtlessness and indifference in their actions.

Well, almost everyone but them.

A perplexed frown pinched between Kirishima’s brows as he turned his gaze away from the window beside them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been sulking at the window ever since he plopped into the seat across him.

He had been sitting in brooding silence for what felt like fifteen minutes and the expression on his face hadn’t changed. If there were any at all, it was only that his scowl grew bigger.

“As much as I like hanging out with you, I have to say this is getting a little…weird.”

Kirishima briefly flitted to the counter to see curious eyes on them, “My colleagues are starting to think we’re dating.”

Tonight was the fourth time Bakugou had come to find him right as he was knocking off from his part-time job this week.

“Who gives a fuck about what they think?” Bakugou muttered gruffly, finally looking away from the outside.

Kirishima had known him ever since they met in middle school to know the scowl on Bakugou’s face was…well, his default expression.

Long enough for him to tell at one glance that the scowl he’d been seeing on Bakugou’s face was different. This one seemed to come right out from the depth of his fierce vermilion eyes — Bakugou was upset.

And it was about you.

No matter how hard Bakugou tried to hide how much he was a sucker for you, Kirishima could always tell.

Even though they had matured into college students, Bakugou was still the same stubborn guy who wasn’t the most comfortable displaying his affections openly.

Mere mentions of you would soften the scowl on his face, and the rough edge in his voice. It was easy for anyone else to miss the difference but it was obvious to Kirishima.

His grumpy complaints about how clingy and touchy you are were one of their common topics in their conversations. The annoyance scowling in his eyes when he did was always subtly soft and warm.

But something changed, as Bakugou had mentioned, in the recent two weeks.

Nights in his dormitory room were spent alone. He was so used to falling asleep and waking up, to the sight of you curling up right next to him.

The last time he saw you were from afar, watching you rushing off to somewhere.

Dates with you, even as simple as a meal in the cafeteria was scarce.

Your replies to his texts were late and sometimes curt. The usual ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ from you, if you didn’t spend the night with him, were no longer…usual.

Sometimes his messages to you would be left hanging for days before you replied.

The tone when Bakugou was telling him about all these strange distances between them was nonchalant, but the scowl on his face told Kirishima a different story.

Kirishima tried to think of something to say, but all he could think of in the end was the same thing he’d been saying ever since Bakugou shared this with him.

“Stop worrying man, she’s probably just busy?”

Bakugou’s face carried a carefully blanked expression as he raised his eyes to meet Kirishima’s.

“…Or maybe she’s losing interest in me.”

His arm was tucked between his pillow and his head as his other held his phone to his face. Vermilion eyes stared blankly at the quiet chatroom he shared with you, particularly fixated on your last reply to him.

Two days ago.

The gloom hung over his gaze these days were like the dreary seasons of dull, gray monsoons.

The hopeful morning sun filtering into his room through the wooden window blinds above him was a startling contrast, and so was the lively laughter ringing out from the basketball court somewhere near the dormitory blocks.

Probably some idiots shoving snow at each others’ faces, Bakugou thought seethingly as he clicked his tongue in annoyance at a particular spike of volume in the ruckus downstairs.

It was Saturday and the morning was already—

His eyes flitted to the time written in the corner of his screen.

— halfway to noon.

A quiet sigh left him.

Like on Saturdays, he should be on the way to meet you for your usual brunch. Except things weren’t quite ‘usual’ anymore.

Bakugou released another sigh as he let his phone fall away from his face along with his raised arm, landing on the bed under him with a muffled ‘plop’.

His forehead ridged with a scowl. Just how did he fuck things up?

His memories sifted through the times he called you names and how you would still smile back at him like he was your whole world as if he didn’t just call you an idiot, a nerd, or a moron.

A bitter taste of guilt entered his mouth.

Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed that you knew he was feeling affectionate when he did?

Perhaps you’ve grown sick of him? And realized that you didn’t need a shitty boyfriend who called you insulting names or would shrug off your affections as if they were annoyances.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth as a frustrated hiss slipped from him.

Shit, maybe he did fuck up afterall. Fucked up big time.

And he was probably going to lose you. Everything that made you…you.

The way you smiled at him with a loving, bright glint in your eyes as if he was the one who put the stars in the sky.

The sweet kisses you love to plant on his lips and forehead.

How your hand would hold onto his — small but warm with your love.

Bakugou felt his throat swell with the presence of forming tears as his heart twinged in his chest.

The idea of losing all that spurred a rush of panic in him.

Bakugou shot off his bed, put on the nearest shirt and jeans he could grab, and hurried out of his room.

The first place Bakugou thought to look for you was your dormitory but his worst fear made him hesitate at your door, with a hand hovering over its handle.

In fact, he’d thought about doing this for the past two weeks but the wisps of doubts whispering nasty things wouldn’t let him.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth.

What if there was someone else—

Bakugou shoved the unfinished thought aside; it was unbearable to even think about that possibility.

His scowling gaze snapped to his hesitating hand and his lips instantly curled into a sneer to a spark of irritation within.

What was with him? He was starting to remind himself of Deku, hesitating outside doors with twiddling thumbs like a wimp.

He was Bakugou Katsuki and he should be announcing his arrival by bursting through one.

Man, you thought you could finally enjoy a good night’s sleep after countless of sleepless nights.

But no…nope.

The heater just had to break down at an ungodly hour when you were still trudging through the last thesis for your project and you could find no other alternative places to work on them.

Bakugou came across your mind but again, it was crazy late or more accurately, early to budge into your boyfriend’s room.

Like every other night, you’d been tirelessly working on it so you could finally submit the project you’d been assigned since two weeks ago.

It was the infamous final year project you’ve dreaded ever since you heard about it from your senior — dubbed as ‘the project from hell’.

And indeed, it was a project from hell. It seemed to suck out your very soul. The exhaustion weighing you down like lead ran bone deep, that even lifting your head off your pillow was such a struggle.

With a broken heater sitting uselessly in your room, you’d spent the whole night wrapped in your blanket, with the lingering winter chill prickling at your skin.

So you couldn’t help sighing at the sudden warmth enveloping your body after spending the night shivering away under your blanket at the mercy of the dropping temperature.

Your arms found their way around the heat source.

You didn’t see the tender curl of his lips when you sighed blissfully and nuzzled into his chest or the softening glint in the usual fierce edge held in his vermilion eyes.

It was like nestling inside a warm cocoon that…

— awareness seeping into your groggy senses pried your eyes open.

…breathed.

What or rather who greeted you lifted you right out of your morning grogginess and struck you with an overwhelming barrage of emotions.

“…Ka-Katsuki!” You missed him so much.

Along with how the shadows and sunlight filtering in from behind you fell across and highlighted his chiseled profile, there was something about the way his intense eyes looked down at you with his head leaning against an arm.

This sight gave your heart a fluttery squeeze.

You weren’t sure why Bakugou looked so strikingly handsome like this — maybe it was because you haven’t seen him for awhile?

“When did you come in here?” Words started pouring out of your mouth.

You’ve always wanted to vent and rant about the dumb project to Bakugou so there was too much you wanted to say,

“Oh my god, you’ve no idea how much busy I was these few weeks-” but the brooding look that hadn’t left Bakugou stopped you.”…Katsuki?”

You’d never seen Bakugou look this down before, and it didn’t sit right with you.

You hesitated but asked anyway.“…What’s wrong?”

The cloud that fell over his eyes told you that something was definitely wrong.

“…I’m sorry, (Name).”

You grew concerned as you tried to understand his unreadable demeanor. “What’s this about— ”

“Are you losing interest in me?”

Your next breath was caught in your throat at his strange question and the only thing you could do was blurt out a —“What?”

You watch him exhale carefully with a bewildered look.

Bakugou didn’t even care how he looked to you now.

“Look, I know I’m a huge fuck-up as a boyfriend and you probably think I don’t care about our relationship cause I act like I don’t.”

There was so much to say, so much guilt brimming inside him.

“But shit, I do care.”

He was desperate.

He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t. He loved you but he was an idiot for not showing that to you.

So he needed to let you know now.

His hand on your waist pulled you up to him and his eyes were pinned on yours.

Your mouth opened, then snapped close at the silent, blazing gleam in his gaze.

Your voice had fled at the way he stared at you.

Longing and heavy with remorse.

“Stay with me,” His lips brushed lightly across yours as his voice cracked with an aching need.” …please.”

He kissed you and the world fell away.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagine #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #bnha katsuki x reader

1K notes · View notes

blush-and-books · 3 years

Text

sun's gone // but you always liked this time of day

angsty, hurt/comfort with a happy ending, juke canonverse. title from Place In Me by Luke Hemmings. special shoutout to my dear @unsaid-emily who loves this lyric as much as i do.

warnings: luke is just going through a lot and its scientifically proven that anger destroys brain cells so just be ready

----

Finding out that Rose's death day was on the same day as his mom's birthday was... Not easy, for Luke.

Him and Julie both mourning different things. Both of them felt different things surrounding their mom situations, and Luke knew that his job as Julie's "Luke" was to be there for her. He had been there for Reggie when his dad was leaving home every night to go sleep wherever his mom wasn't, and when Alex's parents turned into apathetic losers post-coming out.

He should be a master at all of this parent shit.

Unfortunately, there's a difference between losing love for or from your parents, and losing that parent to a force out of your control. Luke was used to the tension that was easy to complain about; to criticizing what his friends' families were doing wrong.

From how Julie talks about her, it doesn't sound like Rose Molina was doing anything wrong.

He can't help the way that rage smolders in a deep pit of his stomach. He hates that Julie's sad, and he hates that he didn't have a mom like Rose Molina, and he hates that the universe was cruel enough to give his favorite person such a wonderful mother and take her away before Julie was even an adult.

Sometimes, especially today, he's reminded of the hate he felt for his mom. When he was fifteen and wrote her a real song, one of his first when he started to improve his writing skills, and he could see the twitch in her eye of disdain.

That night, she told him to start looking at jobs. He was old enough, after all.

He went to the closest place he could find - a local diner - picked up an application, and cried.

She didn't care about his art; she didn't realize how his art meant more than anything he could buy with money. What was starting to sting was the fact that she probably would never care. And as he got older, she made it increasingly clear, and...

Yeah. Emily's birthdays were bitter.

Luke was bitter.

Julie was depressed.

He went to see her that day, it was a Saturday, and tried to talk to her. His hand softly ran up and down her side as she curled under the comforter, and when she invited him under the blankets he gratefully accepted the invitation.

Maybe Julie, the girl that made them whole again, could heal this little extra wound, too.

They talk. Julie cries; he avoids it.

"It's just really hard to be without her, you know? Sometimes shit just happens and it feels like a time she needs to be here, and she's not, and I don't know what to do."

Luke misses feeling like that. But it stopped about a month after he left home.

"Well, I mean, I've gone this long without a mom, and I'm fine. You can live without her. You're gonna be fine."

He says it with the same apathetic tone he always uses when he shifts into Emily-mode, and it isn't supposed to be like that, but it is.

Painfully.

And his mistake is obvious when Julie's frowning lips part open in horror, and her eyes are welling fresh with tears that illuminate the red around her irises.

Carelessly, with his eyes wide open, he's torn her apart.

Under the comforter, he feels cold. Even Julie's body next to him feels cold, and-

"Julie-"

"Get out. Please."

"I'm sor-"

"Luke, please- Leave me alone."

When Luke finally sobs, he's alone. It's dark outside and the garage is empty because the boys respect that it's a rough day for many people in this household, but the sadness and anger overcome him until he's opening his mouth to scream and nothing comes out, and when he's so dehydrated that his body is void of any tears, he sits on the couch with a damp face and plucks the chords of Emily's birthday song from 27 years ago.

He tries not to feel the numbing depression very often. But you can only push down such strong emotions for so long before they choose to ignore your fighting attempts.

Julie made it easier to battle the fury he felt towards his mom. That woman will always have a grasp on him, a place in him - probably because he never properly processed it. He's stuck with all of it now. The internal playlists of songs that remind him of how mad he is or sad he is, for him to listen to whenever his temper towards Emily seethes.

Tonight, he doesn't have a choice but to face it.

----

The next morning, there's a note for him.

Please give me the day to myself.

No author claims their identity, but the loopy "y" is a dead giveaway that Julie wrote it, let alone the content. His chest does that shitty thing where his ribs feel as though they are compressing against his lungs and breathing is hard.

He feels like that all day, but he still waits.

But he barely makes it to sunset before he is poofing to the hallway and standing before her bedroom, fist raised to knock.

The sunset was pretty tonight. He hopes she enjoyed it. Her favorite time of day is dusk, when the air only feels fresher because it carries a chill with it, and the world begins to slow down.

Luke knocks.

Julie answers.

"I'm sorry," he rushes out before she has the chance to interrupt or he has the chance to say something stupid. "What I said- That was my stupid, stupid anger at my mom. It was her birthday yesterday." Julie looks surprised to hear this, of course she didn't know, but she doesn't say anything.

"I don't know what it's like to go through what you did. I wanted to support you yesterday, and I didn't, and I know that. My feelings got the better of me, and that isn't fair. And I am so, so sorry, Julie."

She remains still in front of him, but only for a beat. Eventually, she moves aside, wordlessly, and stares at him expectantly.

He takes exactly four steps inside, and plants his feet once again.

"It's not stupid," is the first thing she says. Her voice has a piercing edge to it that he rarely hears, and he hates it, but stays quiet. "How you feel about your mom. Don't call it stupid. I don't think it's stupid."

She takes a deep breath. A tear slips through her lashes.

"But what you said was really fucking insensitive. All I needed from you was to be there and hold me and let me ride this wave, not try to relate or compare our problems. How would you feel if I tried to guilt you for running away because 'at least you had a mom'?"

Shitty. He'd feel shitty, because they are two different situations and she has no right to speak on something that she hasn't gone through.

He answers with that, verbatim. And he throws in another apology for good measure, making it clear that he understands where he went wrong.

"Good. You understand. Thank you."

Her eyebrows twist together. It's a tell that she wants to say something too.

"If you ever need to talk about your mom, you know I'm here for it. I didn't know her birthday was yesterday."

Understanding, he nods. He didn't tell her it was Emily's birthday, because the day was supposed to be about Rose, and then it wasn't.

"Thank you."

The two of them fall silent.

Luke doesn't want to leave, but feels like he should; Julie hasn't asked him to leave, but he doubts she wants him to stay.

They're just two kids with gaps in their hearts, left by the absence of their mothers.

Sometimes - all the time - Luke feels Julie filling that gap. Not as a mom, of course, but as another person; someone to love him and support him and make him happy.

Emily might not ever go away in his head. But Julie Molina, over anyone, will always have a place in his heart, in his head, and in his soul.

She's just magic like that.

So magic that she finds it in herself to step forward, and he is roped in by her gravitational pull, and they're falling into each other's arms.

Luke imagines that if he ever went to a heaven instead of coming back to the modern day, that this, Julie's arms around him, is the feeling that would greet him at that end.

Everything feels better here.

----

tags: @bluefirewrites @lydias--stiles @sylphrenas @wlwcarries @ruzek-halstead @willexx @sirena-de-lunas @babydagger28 @phantomsandsunsets

#jatp #juke #julie molina #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic

59 notes · View notes

rreyie · 4 years

Text

𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨- 𝙖𝙤𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: after coming back from a long week of experiments, eren is greatful to finally spend time with you. you both go stargazing, and eren reveals a present he has for you for your anniversary.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: nsfw, outdoor sex, semi-public sex (?), dom! eren, sub! reader !EREN IS 18!

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨: eren yeager, reader insert

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: smut/nsfw

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: hi everyone! sorry i didn’t post yesterday, i had an extremely busy day! i’ll probably alternate characters that i’m writing about a fair bit, and once i have a few more fics i’ll be making a post with all the smuts and other things in one place!! hope this makes things easier!

——————————————————————————

it had been an excruciating long week. you were out on an expedition for four days attempting to claim back some of the small cities that were still ridden with titans. meanwhile, your boyfriend, eren, was sticking with hange to preform some more experiments and to figure out how to take down marley and to end this seemingly endless war.

you were injured, but not as badly as some of your fellow comrades. you had some scrapes, cuts and bruises scattered around your body.

you saw eren waiting for you on the sidewalk of the street, along with the rest of the crowd mourning the scouts losses. he looked at you, excitement in his green eyes and rushed over to your position on your horse.

“y/n!” he yelled. “how was it? you take down any titans?” he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“a few, but we needed to halt the mission to come back and see how you were holding up.” you directed your horse to the sidewalk, so you and eren could talk more. “anything you’d like to share? new discoveries?”

“same old. i have no clue why hange still wants me to help with her little experiments.” you laugh.

“well, you know hange. she has a thing for titans. she wants to absorb every last piece of information about them.” you pause. “that’s what makes her such a valuable member of the team- her desire to learn.”

he nods. “i suppose so.” he pressed another kiss to your cheek. “we should spend some time together tonight, love. how about stargazing?”

“that could be fun”, you respond, grinning. “just give me an hour to clean up and rip this bloodstained uniform off of me and change into some nicer clothes.”

“it’s a date.” eren waves, and heads in the opposite direction as you.

———

you climb up to the hill that you two had your first date at. it was coated in a thick layer of grass, a few wildflowers peeling out the edges. you remember you two meeting here when you were fifteen, after the battle of trost. you had your first kiss up here. you were wondering why eren hadn’t shown up yet.

you sit yourself down on the ground, looking at how the beautiful moon shone down on your town. what a wonderful place to live. it would be even more wonderful if it wasn’t being nearly destroyed by giant humanoid creatures.

“BOO!” you hear someone behind you yell. you let out a small scream and jump, and immediately turn your vision around behind you. it was eren, laughing at your response.

“you scared me!” you yell, elbowing his leg.

“maybe you need to be more aware of your surroundings”, he responds.

you pout and roll your eyes. eren takes a seat next to you and wraps one of his muscular arms around you. you lean into his chest, letting out a sigh of content.

“hey”, eren whispers. “i brought something. it’s like a three year anniversary present.”

“what is it?” you ask. he pulls out a wrapped condom.

“god eren, you pervert”, you chuckle. erens content expression turns into a smirk. “wait, you’re serious?”

“mhm”, he mumbles. “it’s been three years. i think it’s about time, if you think so too.”

you had been fantasizing about this moment for ages, touching yourself to the thought of him. you stared at the condom in shock. your throat went dry. “y-yeah, i’d love to...”

without hesitation, eren pulled you into a messy, sloppy kiss and hugged your waist. he began to unbutton your white blouse, and desperately attempted to unclasp your bra, failing miserably.

“has a girl not ever showed you how to undo one of these things?” you ask, pulling down the straps. “it’s straps first, then buckle.” you proceed to take off your bra, leaving you and eren with your bare chest. he stares at your breasts in awe, then practically rips off his own shirt. he slides off your jeans with ease, leaving you both in only your underwear. you feel a small spot of arousal begin to form in your panties.

“already wet for me, darling?” he asks. he pushed your underwear aside, and inserts a finger. you moan at the sensation of his wide fingers inside of you. he starts to pump them in and out, creating a knot in your stomach.

without much time at all, you become overwhelmed by the sensation and release all over eren. he takes his fingers out, and licks them.

you’re still laying flat on the ground as eren takes his boxers down and discards them by a nearby tree. his throbbing member is now exposed. it’s tip is red and swollen, a drip of pre-cum forming at the center.

“e-eren...” you stammer. “get inside me, please...”

“you really want me that bad?” he teases. “come on now, gotta beg for me first.” he tears the packaging on the condom, and let’s it fall to his side. he effortlessly slips the large condom onto his dick.

“eren, please...” before you could finish your sentence, you feel something thrust inside you. you let out a sharp moan.

“aren’t you lucky that we aren’t anywhere near people tonight”, eren says. “might’ve had to gag you so they wouldn’t know how good i’m making you feel.” he continues to thrust into you, earning moans and groans from each of you.

he continues, going at various speeds. “eren!” you yell. “i’m gonna cum!” you cum again, your release acting like a natural lubricant to help eren glide inside your walls.

“g-god... i think i’m gonna cum too...” eren stammers. he quickly pulls out and removes the soaked condom, and cums all over your stomach and breasts. he pants, and noticed your fucked-out state, covered in his cum.

“y/n, you look so hot when you’re covered in my cum”, he growls, and presses his lips to yours, much more violently than the last time. your eyes were now half-shut, your legs weak from the stimulation. you were practically melting into the ground.

“that was... s-so good...” you say. eren smirks and traces your jawline with his finger.

“i bet it was, baby.” he lays down next to you, and moves your body so that you were laying down. you two were still both fully nude, but it felt refreshing to feel the cool summer breeze on your bare skin. eren wrapped his arm around you.

“we should do this more often”, he says. “every saturday?”

you giggle. “that would be lovely.”

#aot hcs #aot headcanons #attack on titan #snk headcanons #snk hcs #snk smut #aot smut #aot eren #snk eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin imagine

157 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 4 years

Text

Protective Detail (3/?)

Nestor Oceteva x Reader

Warnings: language, falling more in love with Nestor than we already were originally (if that’s even possible)

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: I’m a sucker for characters building relationships. Humans slowly getting to know each other and get more comfortable with each other??? Friendships and feelings developing?? Sign me the fuck up lmao. As always, hope y’all enjoy xoxo

Chapter Index

Protective Detail Taglist: @masterlistforimagines @sillygoose6969 @mydaiilyescape @lovebennycolon @the-radical-venus @gemini0410 @garbinge (If you want to be tagged in this fic or any of my other writing let me know!)

A few days into the new arrangement, you and Nestor had started figuring out a little bit of a routine. There were a lot of quiet moments between the two of you—you realized that he wasn’t much of a talker and you were still trying to figure out how to get him to say more than two sentences at a time about anything. It was like your new mission.

He was adamant about doing dishes. He couldn’t stand letting them sit in the sink overnight, so they were always clean first thing in the morning when you came out into the kitchen. He’d shake his head at you before you could even try to tell him that it wasn’t necessary. You wanted to be motivated enough to clean them before you went to bed, but by the time the end of the day rolled around all you wanted to do was crawl under the covers and pass out, so that was usually what you ended up doing.

“I’ll do dishes but I draw the line at combining our laundry,” he said as he carried his small hamper of dirty clothes to the basement where the washer and dryer were.

You laughed, calling after him, “Oh darn. How am I supposed to snoop through your stuff, then?” you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket and you took it out to see who was calling, smiling to yourself when you saw your father’s contact photo on your phone screen, “You’re calling early.”

“You’re awake early,” you could hear the smile in his voice, “Was just calling to check in and see how things are going.”

“I haven’t succeeded in driving him away yet, unfortunately.”

Nestor’s voice came from downstairs, “I can hear you!”

“Good!” you called back with a laugh before returning your attention to your phone call.

Your father sighed, “So things are going well, I see.”

“It’s really not bad at all, Papi. Nestor is alright. It’s just weird living with someone that you don’t know,” you paced the floor of your kitchen, “You know how long he’s gonna have to stay with me?”

“Until I feel that things have been properly handled.”

“You sure Miguel doesn’t need him back?”

“Even if he did, he would never ask me,” you knew your father well enough to know that there was a light smugness to his voice as he said that, “But you’ve been alright? You’re safe?”

“Yes, I’m safe,” you heard Nestor’s footsteps coming back up the stairs and you turned to face him, a childish smirk on your face, “Nestor is doing a fabulous job protecting me.” You chuckled as he pressed his lips into a thin line and made his way to the guest room without a word.

Your father laughed, knowing that you were giving your protective detail a run for his money, “Don’t be too hard on him, mija.”

You laughed, “No promises. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too,” he let out a soft chuckle before hanging up the call.

Morning faded into the afternoon and you hadn’t seen Nestor since he disappeared after he brought laundry downstairs. Some moments you wondered if your father’s concern about him being annoyed enough to quit were valid, but you also figured that Nestor was too proud and stubborn to bail. You walked down the hall and knocked on the open door to what you now considered his room. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, tying his shoes. You smiled slightly as he looked over at you, eyebrows raised.

“You almost ready to go?” you asked, “Ready for another very boring night sitting at the bar watching me like a creep?”

He stood up and walked over to you, and for a moment you were reminded of the size difference between the two of you. he glanced down at you, making you feel very small as your face instantly got hot, “Ready to watch me watch you? Like an even bigger creep?” You chuckled, mostly to try and relieve the tension that was bubbling up inside your body. He brushed past you and went to grab his keys, “My turn to drive.”

You followed his path and opened your mouth to argue, but you knew it was useless. With a sigh you grabbed your purse and followed him out the door to his SUV. He’d driven you a couple places in it, and you had to admit it had way more room than your car when it came to grocery shopping. You still weren’t ready to accept it as your main mode of transportation, though. You could’ve had your own nice car, and your father would’ve preferred it, but you didn’t like feeling so obvious. And, in the case of Nestor’s car, you hated feeling like you were constantly fighting to not touch anything in his pristine vehicle.

“You really don’t need to stay for my whole shift, Nestor,” you said as the two of you walked in the front door, “I’m sure there are more important things you could spend a couple hours doing and then just come pick me up afterwards.”

He shook his head, opening the door for you, “Can’t do it.”

It was a busier shift—Saturday’s always were. You almost felt bad for Nestor, but at least there were enough people to keep him occupied and have him feeling like he was actually serving a purpose by being there with you. He never said anything, but you knew that things had been so quiet lately and it was probably a big change of pace from whatever he was usually doing for the Galindos. Any time you tried to ask or allude to it, though, he went silent.

You finally had a moment to pause and catch your breath for a second when you saw Nestor waving you over. You leaned over the bar so he wouldn’t have to shout whatever it was that he had to say to you, sporting your best Customer Service Smile so the people around you wouldn’t get clued in on anything.

“Guy over in that booth has been eyeing you for the last fifteen minutes.”

You were about to tell him that there were always creeps leering at you while you were working, but when you saw who he was talking about, your facial expression dropped. You saw Nestor’s whole body tense up and he went to stand, but you put your hands over his to stop him. He turned to you, clearly confused and on-edge.

“He’s not a problem. Just a shitty ex-boyfriend. He’s annoying, but not a security concern. You can sit, it’s fine,” you nodded to him to reassure him before plastering a smile back on your face and getting back to your other patrons.

Nestor didn’t like the fact that the man kept staring at you. And despite the fact that you had explicitly told him that he wasn’t an issue, there was still a very strong urge to get up and physically throw him out of the building. For the sake of your job, though, Nestor kept himself seated, keeping an eye on everyone else while paying special attention to the man in the booth.

You don’t know how you missed him coming in, but you almost wished that Nestor hadn’t said anything. Now you couldn’t help but to feel him staring at you and it was a difficult feeling to ignore. It would have been a total abuse of power to ask Nestor to go over and get in his face, and you knew it, but the option was still tempting nonetheless. You were glad that he was at least keeping to himself.

That luck ran out too, though. You were looking across the expanse of the bar to see if anyone needed anything, and sure enough he was standing at the far end, a smug grin on his face because he knew that you were going to have to come over and talk to him. Jade saw the look on your face and was about to intervene but you politely waved her off, knowing that it wasn’t her drama to deal with.

“What can I get you, Marco?” your voice wasn’t nasty, but it wasn’t laden with the typical sweetness you used on other customers.

“Whatever’s good on tap tonight, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” you didn’t look at him as you grabbed a glass and picked a beer out of the tap lineup.

“That your new boyfriend?” he nodded towards Nestor as you handed him the glass.

“And if he is?” this conversation wasn’t going in a good direction, but you were trapped in it regardless.

“I was just wondering, because he’s spent an awful lot of the evening staring at you.”

“Could say the same about you,” you scoffed.

You went to walk away when he reached over the bar and grabbed your arm. His grip wasn’t tight, and you knew that the intention wasn’t to hurt you, just to get your attention, but you still had the overwhelming urge to bust his nose. You ripped your arm from his grip, taking a deep breath as you suppressed the desire to cause a scene.

You almost had no say in the matter, though, as Nestor materialized, placing his hands down hard on Marco’s shoulders, “Everything alright over here?”

Your eyes grew wide, not sure at all how this was going to play out. You could see the fear on Marco’s face, but you also knew that he was too proud and too stupid to back down from a fight, even if it was one he would definitely lose. He shrugged in an attempt to get Nestor’s hands off of his shoulders, “We’re fine.”

Nestor’s eyes zeroed in on you, practically begging you to give him the okay to do some damage, “All good, Y/N?”

Before you could answer, Marco spoke up again, “I said we’re fine.”

“I wasn’t fucking asking you,” Nestor’s voice was low but you could tell by the grimace on Marco’s face that he was definitely digging his fingers into his shoulders.

You nodded, “We’re good.”

Nestor released his grip and you could see Marco’s entire body relax. His gaze lingered on you for a moment and you nodded again to let him know that you could handle it. He didn’t say anything else as he made his way back down to where he had originally been sitting at the bar. His eyes never left the two of you though—you could feel his stare even though your back was to him.

“I figured you would’ve gone for a more warm and fuzzy type,” he tried to play it confidently but you could tell that he was shaken up.

You scoffed, “I’d leave while you still can. He decides to come back over again I won’t tell him to let you go.”

The color drained from Marco’s face, but he just couldn’t make himself smart enough to walk away, “Didn’t think you liked pushy guys.”

You braced your hands on your side of the bar and leaned forward slightly, “I don’t like guys who are pushy with me. Now, get the fuck out before you see how pushy he can really be.”

The second threat was enough to get through. He dropped money on the surface of the bar and left, leaving a full glass of beer behind. You chuckled to yourself as you brought the glass down and set it in front of Nestor. The two of you locked eyes for a moment but didn’t say anything about what had happened as you went about the rest of your evening.

You were cleaning up after your shift, once again it was just you, Jade, and Nestor. You and Jade were going back and forth about some of the ridiculous things that you had heard that night as you wiped down counters and tabletops. Nestor scrolled on his phone, a smile tugging at the edges of his mouth as he listened to the two of you.

When there was a lull in the conversation, he looked up and at you, “So, who was your friend that was here tonight?”

“Ah, he got to meet Marco,” Jade chuckled, shaking her head knowingly.

“Marco?” he raised his eyebrows.

You huffed, rolling your eyes, “Yea, Marco. With a capital M for mierda,” you let out a humorless laugh, “We dated a couple years back.”

“Still not over you?”

Jade interjected before you could, “Can you blame him?”

You smiled and shook your head, “I haven’t heard from him in a while. He pops up every now and then to see if he still has a shot. He never does. I turn him down, send him away, and the cycle repeats itself.”

“Too bad you didn’t have a Nestor sooner,” Jade was stacking glasses with a smug grin on her face, “Could’ve gotten rid of him a long time ago.”

“Nestor is not a bouncer for ex-boyfriends,” you laughed.

She laughed and shrugged, “It is a bonus though.”

You shook your head as the two of you finished up closing down the bar. While it was hectic sometimes when it was only the two of you, those were some of your favorite nights. You’d come to think of Jade more as an aunt or a second mother rather than your boss, and you liked the time you got to spend with her.

After getting home and letting Nestor check the house, the two of you took turns showering off the day. You were trying to figure out if Nestor just had multiple of the same sets of sweatpants and lounge shirts, or if he just washed the same set over and over again. You grabbed a fresh pint of ice cream out of the freezer and grabbed one for him too without bothering to ask, knowing that if you gave him the option he would always say no.

You set his down on the coffee table in front of him before taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch from him, giving him a little space. He looked back and forth between you and the ice cream with a slightly confused expression.

“A thank you for scaring off Marco,” you said with a smile as you scooped out a spoonful of your own.

“It’s my job.”

You raised an eyebrow, “That is not in your job description. He is not a threat to my father’s way of life, or mine for that matter. Now just eat the damn ice cream before I add doesn’t eat dessert to my Nestor Notes.”

He let himself smile as he picked up the pint of ice cream, “Thank you,” he took a spoonful, “And for future reference, my favorite flavor is mint chip.”

Your eyes grew wide, mostly because he actually offered up a piece of personal information, but also at the fact that that was his favorite flavor, “Really? I don’t think I’ve ever met someone with that as their favorite.”

“Now you have,” he nodded before reaching for the controller to turn the TV on.

You chuckled to yourself as you settled back against the couch, pulling your legs up underneath you. You looked over at Nestor, who was slightly hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees. He had the controller in one hand, scrolling through shows, and his ice cream in the other. For a man who didn’t like music while he was driving in the car, he certainly did seem to see eye-to-eye with you when it came to always having the television on in the house for a light layer of background noise. Most of the time neither of you were paying super close attention to what was on, but it was just nice to break up the silence. In that moment, though, both of you felt extremely present.

“I’m one hundred percent eating this whole thing tonight,” you laughed, “It’s counting as dinner and dessert.”

He chuckled, “Sounds good.”

“We can go grocery shopping tomorrow and get real food,” you smiled as you kept your eyes glued to the container in your hands, “I’ll make sure to get you some mint chip.”

He nodded, smiling despite the fact that he wasn’t looking over at you, “I’d appreciate that.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #nestor oceteva #nestor oceteva x reader #nestor oceteva x you #nestor oceteva imagine #my writing #nestor oceteva fanfic #drabblesmc #protective detail #multichapter #chapter 3

204 notes · View notes

p4nkow · 4 years

Text

After school tutoring

Hey-ho! I don't really know if I can say that I'm back with writing but yeah, I wrote something

I’ve watched OBX as soon as it came out but I’ve struggled with coming up with an innovative idea (so you can easily imagine how excited I was when this one surprisingly popped up in my mind)

Summary: JJ really needs a tutor not to fail his French class, but he doesn’t seem to excited about the idea. Especially when the Tutor he’s been assigned to is a Kook he grew up with, who seems to be friends with the Rafe and the rest of the Scooby Gang. Y’know, the usual with some good ol’ angst and fluff

So, of course, it’s a JJ x reader

Warnings: nothing much, really. Rafe’s a bit of a jerk, but not as much as in the show (I have a soft spot for him). Oh and also some violence (but blink and you’ll miss it, I swear)

hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think :)

gif not mine so credit to the owner

Your father always told you that you were one of the nicest and most patient little girls that he had ever known. Ever since you were a child, you’ve always been such a Florence Nightingale. You’d always help Mrs. Goode cross the street on her way back home — especially when Rafe and his bloody motorcycle where nearby — or you’d always take care of some abandoned kittens until you could find them a proper and loving home.

Yeah, you were that kind of nice. You were Jamie Sullivan kind-of-nice, straight out of A walk to remember but without your Landon Carter.

No matter how many times your own actions backfired at you, you never regretted them. Not even when Kielce tried to embarrass you in front of everyone at Midsummers, after you trying to hide the fact that he was stoned from his parents. Or when the Pogues kept throwing daggers at you for just being a Kook. Well, half Kook. You were as Kook as Kiara.

Nevertheless, you never regretted anything— until now.

What the hell were you thinking when you volunteered for the after-school program? No, after-school was not the real problem. The real matter was who had been assigned to you.

JJ Maybank.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t stand his sight or anything. No, nothing like that. He just didn’t seem to know you existed. Which was odd, considered that he did nothing but pick up a fight with your best friend every three or four minutes.

Maybe he simply ignored you because you were a Kook. Well, half Kook.

And as he waited for his tutor – for you. As he waited for you, sitting on one of the farthest desks in the classroom, he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Both his elbows were on the desk, a grin lit up his face as he texted someone.

Man, this was going to be fun.

A few steps and you were right next to him. The grip on the books you were holding against your chest was so tight that you couldn’t even feel your fingers anymore. There was no reason for you to be that nervous, yet you had to take a deep breath before speaking to him.

“Hey.” As simple as that. It came out more as a squeak than as a word, but whatever.

His blue eyes moved from the screen to you. He held your gaze for a few moments, before letting his eyes slide all over your body.

“Hey”, he replied. His tone was amused as his grin grew wider. His phone was now locked but he didn’t put it away.

His curious gaze followed your movements as you took a seat in front of him, placing your books on the empty space between the two of you. “Looks like I’m stuck with you.”

“Is that a problem?” The smile on his face told you that he wasn’t taking it seriously. He leaned back, bringing both his hands behind his neck as he gave you a careless look.

All you could do was shrug. “I hope not.”

A loud ding interrupted him from whatever he was about to say, as the screen of his phone lit up. His blue eyes, which seemed so amused and interested in you, quickly moved to it. JJ remained silent for a few seconds, his attention now elsewhere.

Trying to camouflage your annoyance caused by his behavior, you said “I spoke to Mrs. Roux. She told me to focus on the basics first, then we can move to the more advanced notions.”

JJ cleared his voice, leaning again towards you. His face was just a few inches away from yours and you took the chance to give a better look at his eyes – even though they seemed carefree and young, deep down you knew they were troubled. Rumors traveled faster than the wind there at the island.

“Look”, he started. “As much as I appreciate your good will, I have no intention of following a single thing you say. I’m only here to score some points with Mrs. Roux so that I don’t fail French.”

His honesty was appreciated. You couldn’t say you were surprised, though. Everybody knew that JJ cared so little of his grades. Not because he couldn’t do better, but because for whatever reason he didn’t want to.

“Then you’ll have to change your tutor”, you replied with a shrug.

After all, you had volunteered to after-school for a reason.

Your words must’ve caught him off guard. His brows narrowed and he slightly tilted his head. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m here to help. And obviously you don’t want to be helped.”

The rays coming through the window at your left made his blonde eyes look even lighter, giving him an angelic look. If it wasn’t for the devilish grin printed on his face.

“You could score some points, too. And without any effort”, he proposed, a corner of his lips raised in an amused smile.

His words made you giggle, so you slightly shook your head. “That’s not how it works, JJ.”

“Do you know me?” Why did he seem so surprised by that? First, even though you were now in the mainland, you both lived in the island. Back there, everyone knew everyone. So of course you knew who JJ Maybank was.

The real question was, “Do you know me?”

“I know you hang out with the Scooby Gang. That’s enough for me.” He clenched his jaw and for the first time since you had taken your seat in front of him, he looked away from you.

You narrowed your brows, throwing him a confused look. “With who?”

JJ gave you a look that said ‘You already know who I’m talking about’. But to make it sure you’d understood, he said “Y’know, Rafe and the rest of the gang.

“They’re my friends.” Of course you knew that there was some bad blood between JJ’s friends and the now so-called Scooby Gang. Since the very first moment, though, you dissociated yourself from that situation. Mainly because you were friends with both Sarah – who was now hanging with the Pogues – and Rafe.

JJ pressed his lips together in a thin line. “You’ve found yourself some terrible friends, I’m afraid.”

His words hurt you. How dared he?

“You don’t really know them. Neither of you have really tried to know each other, so what do you know? I’m more than capable to pick my own friends, thank you.”

And his words made him smile. Was he making fun of you? His smile grew wider as he stared at you. “I knew you had claws hidden somewhere, kitten.”

“Kitten?”

“You’re bringing out the claws like a kitty.”

“Oh please”, you scoffed, looking away from his intense stare. “Don’t try to buy me by using your pickup lines.”

JJ laughed. It was probably the first time you ever heard him laugh — like, a real laugh — and the reactions it aroused in your stomach caught you off guard.

“I’m not trying to hit on you, Kitten. Trust me. At least not for now.” He winked at you and you could do nothing but give him an eye roll.

“Shut up.”

JJ remained silent for a while, the ghost of a smile still on his face. His gaze fell to his hands, now joined on the desk. Before speaking again, he gave you a mischievous look from under his lashes. “So you really wanna help me, huh?”

“You just said you don’t want my help.”

“That was before knowing the Kitten in you. It might actually be fun.”

You sighed deeply and shook your head. “JJ, you’re gonna fail French. You need me.”

“I don’t really care about failing French, but I’ll think about it.” His phone rang again, and you couldn’t stop yourself from eye-rolling. He gave you a quick look before lowering his gaze to the screen, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

The atmosphere had just changed, and you could feel it. The tension was tangible.

JJ swallowed hard and lowered his gaze. Then he loudly pulled away his chair, meeting your gaze again only once having stood up in front of you. “Gotta go now. Don’t bail on me, Kitten.”

He had to go. He had been there for fifteen minutes only!

While throwing him a confused glance, you replied “You don’t bail on me. You’re the one who needs help.”

His lips curved again as a reaction to your words and he held your gaze for a couple of more seconds before starting to walk away.

“JJ?” You hadn’t really meant to say it out loud, but when he turned towards you there was no going back. “We grew up together. You just never noticed I existed.”

And with his brows narrowed in an expression you couldn’t quite decipher, JJ walked away.

—

It was a Saturday just like any other, before Rafe started to persuade you to go with him at a kegger some guy was having down at the Boneyard.

“We won’t be long, right?” Yes, he got the best of you. As you sighed, you turned your head towards the window. From where his Jeep was parked, you could see the crowd already gathered around an improvised bonfire.

“Promise.” Rafe nodded as to confirm his words. “As soon as you wanna get out of here, you come tell me.”

The light of the streetlamps gave you the chance to give him a better look – the white shirt he was wearing highlighted his blue eyes, which were now giving you a hopeful look. “Fine”, you gave up. “Please behave.”

The innocent look he gave you made you giggle, so you threw him a condescending look before stepping out of the car.

You landed on the sand with a little jump, and the night breeze immediately caressed your bare legs. The choice of wearing a skirt was turning out to be a terrible decision.

Rafe made sure you were following him as he started to walk towards the heart of the party. “Are the guys already here?”

“They should be”, he murmured while giving a look around him. Kelce and Topper were nowhere to be found yet. “Let me call them.”

He lowered his gaze as he dialed Topper’s number and you took the chance to give a proper look at the situation around you. Many of your classmates were there, half of them already with a drink in their hands. There were many groups scattered around the beach and the air was filled with laughter – apparently everyone was in a good mood.

One of the first thing you noticed, though, was the equal presence of both Kooks and Pogues. Both factions were there, and for the first-time things seemed to be quiet. No daggers being throwed, no threats murmured. The atmosphere seemed to be peaceful, and you found yourself praying that it’d continue that way.

With the phone still pressed against his ear and his bottom lip between his teeth, Rafe met your gaze for a few instants before trying again to spot his friends. He nodded at someone every now and then because, after all, everyone knew Rafe. Everyone wanted to be his friend.

Everyone but the Pogues.

That’s when you noticed him.

Near one of the bungalows that was now being used as a drinks-refill, there was JJ. One of his hands was raised to hold a cup against his lips, while the other was hidden in the pocket of his short cargo pants.

Despite the darkness of the night, you could see the intensity of his blue eyes from where you were standing. His blonde locks were hidden under a red hat that he was wearing backwards.

Sarah was there with him, alongside with the rest of his friends and a couple of strangers. Female strangers. Some Tourons that he’d hit on, probably. The thought made your stomach twirl for various reasons that you weren’t ready to explore yet, so you looked away before he could notice your staring.

“There you are!” Topper’s arm surrounded your shoulders, bringing back to reality. The smile you gave him was spontaneous and warm.

Rafe sighed as he put away his phone. “You could answer my calls sometimes, asshole.”

“Actually”, Topper said, pointing his finger at Rafe’s chest “I’m pretty sure I lost my phone.”

The way he started to stagger next to you made you ask in an amused but worried tone “Are you drunk?”

Kelce giggled and nodded after meeting Topper’s eyes. “No, we aren’t. Do you want something to drink, Y/N?”

Before you could even give him an answer, you were interrupted by a new voice. “Hey Rafe.” A petite blonde was now standing in front of Rafe. His smile grew wider as he looked down at her and you knew that you’d lost his company even before he could reply.

She handed him a drink and Rafe gave you a quick look with the corner of his eyes. A smirk was all you gave him, and he took it as a good sign. “Hey, doll.”

Lame.

The two of them started to chat and Topper and Kelce were caught in the most intense, drunken conversation, so when you said “I’m gonna grab a drink”, you weren’t even sure who you were talking to.

On your way to the bungalow, you made sure to take the long way, trying to avoid JJ’s group. There wasn’t a particular reason for you not wanting to see him – or was there? All you knew was that he made you incredibly nervous, and you didn’t like that feeling. And sure as hell you didn’t like the way you felt when you saw him with those Tourons.

Stop it, Y/N.

Inside the bungalow there were a few people refilling their cups. After a few “Hey” and “How’s it going?” you finally made your way to the counter. It was hard to tell what those drinks were made of, so you opted for a simple beer.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” You were so lost in your thoughts that the cup almost slid off your fingers as JJ’s voice made you jump.

“Jesus!”

JJ laughed. “I know I’m awesome, but it’s just me.” He leaned on the counter next to you, crossing his arms on his chest as he gave you a mischievous smile.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

His blue eyes slowly slid all over your body, down to your bare legs. He clenched his jaw and you found yourself thinking that maybe, after all, wearing a skirt hadn’t been that terrible. The intensity of his stare pushed you to look away from him, so you took a sip of your drink while trying to slow down your heart rate.

“Are you having fun?” His voice was low and deep, almost as deep as the stare he was giving you.

“I just got here”, you shrugged.

He slowly nodded, looking away for a couple of seconds before turning again towards you. “You were with Rafe.”

He noticed? If it wasn’t for his tone — which made you groan — you’d have felt flattered by the fact that he had noticed. “Let’s not go there again, JJ. He’s my friend.”

“Your friend”, he repeated.

What was his problem?

“Yes”, you articulated.

You exhaled sharply and looked away. You were trying so hard not to get mad at him because of his attitude that you didn’t even notice he’d moved.

JJ was now standing right in front of you. His body was just a few inches away from yours and you fought against your first instinct to back up.

His blue eyes scanned your face, but not in a judgmental way. Maybe it was the first time that JJ really saw you. “You look good tonight, Kitten.”

“Stop calling me that”, you said instead of thanking him. His compliment made you blush.

His lips curved into a grin — it was so typical of him that you were starting to hate it. “You see”, he started. “You said something a few days ago.”

“Hm?” Your brows were raised in a confused look.

“I remember your orange beanie.”

Wait, what?

“What?”

His grin grew even wider at your confusion. “You loved it so much that the teacher had to tell your mother. You just wouldn't take it off. You’ve always been headstrong.”

It was true. When you were eight-ish, you owned an orange beanie. It was a gift from your aunt, and you grew so fond of it that you wouldn’t take it off. Not even in class. The teacher scolded you so many times — which, for an eight-year-old like you was the end of the world — that she even had to bring in your parents.

JJ remembered.

The last time you saw him you told him that he never noticed you existed, but he did.

He took another step towards you. “And when you were twelve, you fell off a tree. You told your mom that you were trying to grab a balloon or something, but I saw you. I was working in a house nearby and I know you were trying to save a kitten.”

You remained silent because you were literally speechless.

He took another step forward. You were so close to him that you could feel the warmth of his body. That’s when the people surrounding you started to blur, becoming meaningless to you. There was just him.

The intensity of his blue eyes stopped you from moving. You froze still as he gently cupped your cheek, sending chills down your spine. What the hell was going on?

“And I sure remember the look in your eyes at homecoming. I stayed late that night to give a hand cleaning up and make some money. You came with Topper, but you left alone. At some point he stood you up for Sarah. Even though he'd just he'd just bailed on you, when you asked Kelce a ride home you made up some lame excuse to cover him. And I kept asking myself why the hell you were always so nice to everyone.” His voice was nothing but a whisper. Both his hands were now placed on the counter, trapping you between his arms.

“JJ—”, you started but you weren't even sure what to say.

He'd noticed everything. He'd noticed you.

Instead of replying with words, you leaned towards him. You were now so close that your lips brushed his. It was a gentle touch, almost shy. Closing your eyes, you stood on your tips while placing your hands on his chest. You could feel his muscles from under the grey shirt he was wearing, and your skin burned where his hand was placed, right on your hip.

Just when your mind was starting to go wild and JJ was starting to deepen the kiss — after being taken aback by your initiative —, you were interrupted by a voice calling his name.

Really? Oh c’mon. JJ groaned and closed his eyes for a couple of seconds before turning towards the door.

“JJ?” Kie was standing right out of the bungalow, her brows narrowed in a worried look.

He took a step back from you and turned towards her, slowly letting you go. You already missed the warmth of his hand against your skin. But Kie being there, interrupting like that, could only mean one thing.

Her gaze fell on you for a couple of seconds, looking at you with nothing but disdain, before looking back at the blonde in front of you. “It’s John B. John B and Rafe.”

That's all she said, but you knew that it meant trouble.

The two of you started to move at the same moment, both drawn to where Kie was heading to. Rafe was in trouble and you knew JJ was as worried as you for his friend.

Why things had to be so difficult between them?

“What’s going on?”, you asked loud enough for Sarah to hear.

The worry in her face made you nervous, but your attention quickly shifted to where Rafe and John B were having a row. Topper was now pulling Rafe back, trying to get him off John B.

You shouted his name, but you knew he wouldn't hear you. The atmosphere was becoming loud and messy, and you were worried sick about your friend.

“Rafe, stop!”

As soon as Topper managed to pull him away, you placed yourself between the two of them. “C’mon man”, Topper kept murmuring as he pushed him away from the Pogues.

But Rafe was fuming. He had a split lip, and he was short of breath. A small crowd had gathered around the fight. People were moving around you, but all you could think of was trying to calm Rafe down. Hoping it'd help somehow, you placed a hand on his chest and murmured his name.

"You stay the hell away!”, he shouted at John B, who was now trying to stand up. Held by JJ on one side and Pope on the other, he did nothing but throw daggers at Rafe. He didn’t even reply. His bruises didn’t seem serious though, which was relief.

Your eyes fell to JJ for a couple of seconds, following his movements as he murmured something to John B, but you quickly looked away.

“Rafe, please.” Maybe because of your quiet tone, maybe because of the worry in it, he finally looked down at you. “That’s enough.”

And those words meant more than it looked like. No matter how hard you tried not to mind the distinction between the two factions in the island – the idea wouldn’t leave Rafe’s mind. The same Rafe that was now looking at you with nothing but anger, disappointment and regret in his blue eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Topper interrupted your staring contest. He patted on his shoulder and nodded towards the parking lots.

As the two of them started to make their way through the crowd, you turned towards JJ.

He was standing right in front of John B, murmuring something while looking at him straight in the eye. The hat he was wearing was long forgotten in the sand and the sea breeze pushed his blonde locks on his face. He didn’t seem to care, though.

Pope noticed you first. A nod was all he gave you before elbowing JJ. When he turned towards you, the look on his face was a lot different than the one you were getting used to. He was angry – jaw clenched, lips pressed and all. He had every right to be.

“What?” The sharpness of his tone almost made you step back.

You cleared your voice before asking, alluding to John B “Is he okay?”

He didn’t even look at him. Hell, he wasn’t even looking at you. The JJ standing right in front of you wasn’t the one you knew. And you didn’t like this new version of him.

“He’s fine.” That’s all he said.

His gaze was now fixed in the sea – he was looking at the waves violently hitting the bank without really seeing them.

You felt Kie’s eyes on you, as well as Pope’s. They were following your conversation with curiosity, trying to understand what the hell was going on between the two of you. After all they weren’t used to see JJ having a full conversation with a Kook. You kinda felt in the spotlight and you hated it.

“Is there something I can do?”, you asked as you tried to keep your voice down. Your words were meant to him and him only.

That’s when JJ finally looked at you, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He clenched his jaw once again and then said “Leave.”

The reaction to those words was immediate – you took a step back, almost as if he’d hurt you physically. And you hated the way your voice sounded squeaky when you asked “What?”

There were lots of emotions going through his eyes, but for the first time ever since you’d known him, you had no idea what the hell was JJ thinking.

“Just leave, Y/N.” He sighed and swore under his breath, lowering his gaze. Why was he acting like that?

As he started to turn his back to you, leaving you there on the spot, you asked “But I’ll see you on Monday, right?”

He shook his head even before turning again towards you. “This was a mistake.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” At this point you didn’t even care about the people surrounding you. Most of them had returned to mind their own business, but not the Pogues.

“If you really wanna do something about it, keep your fuckin’ pet away from me – away from us.” Even though he had every right to be pissed at Rafe, you didn’t like his tone nor the way he was referring to him. “He’s nothing but trouble and so are you. He’s got you wrapped around his finger and you’re so naïve that you don’t even notice it!”

“What the hell are you –”, you tried to intervene, but he immediately cut you off.

“I don’t need your help. No, I don’t want your help. You’re a Kook, Y/N – God, I’m not that desperate.”

You didn’t even try to reply to that. He didn’t deserve another minute of your attention, nor the things that you were starting to feel for him. So you took another step back, physically unable to look away from him eyes. How could he be so mean?

JJ knew he had fuck up. He regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Damn, he regretted hurting you. The look on your face said it all, and he hated himself for it. After all, you had nothing to do with Rafe’s behavior. He was an asshole – a real asshole – and you were too good for him.

And JJ knew sure as hell that you were too good for him, too.

You almost sighed in relief when you heard Kelce’s voice asking you “Y/N, you coming?” He was waiting just a few feet away from you.

JJ tried to take a step towards you, but his legs wouldn’t move. He had screwed it up and he knew it.

When you felt tears watering your eyes, you bit your lower lip till you felt a metallic taste in your mouth. You had no intention of crying in front of him – or his friends, for what matters.

The last look you gave him was full of hurt, regret and disappointment and you found yourself hoping that JJ would remember that look for the rest of his life.

You finally turned your back to him, approaching Kelce with a terrible burden on your heart. There had been moments when you really thought that the stupid distinction between the two factions wouldn’t matter to him. That the distinction between the Cut and Figure Eight wouldn’t influence your friendships.

But you were terribly wrong.

—

The first thing you did on Monday, was changing your schedule for the afterschool program. In that way, not only you weren’t assigned to JJ, but you wouldn’t even see him around during the afternoon. The plan was of avoiding him as much as you could. Well, that wasn’t much of a problem, considered that he despised you and everything.

The week went by kinda smoothly – no JJ in sight, no troubles, no Rafe. You were trying to blow off some stream, and that plan included avoiding both. Even when Sarah called you or stopped by, she cautiously avoided those subjects.

JJ had tried to reach you once. He’d stopped by your house and found your sister, instead. He never showed up again.

Rafe was a whole another story. He hadn’t stopped calling you or texting you since that night at the kegger. Even though you were still pissed at him, you couldn’t help but forgive him. Kinda. As you already said, you were a Florence Nightingale. That huge part of you just couldn’t let go the idea of talking some sense to him.

—

The next Friday Sarah had a terrible, terrible idea.

The Pogues were planning to spend the whole day in the HMS Pogue – a hurricane was expected the following week and they wanted to enjoy those last quiet days. So of course, when Sarah asked you to come along, your answer had been a firm no.

The reason was obvious. JJ would’ve been there, and you were more than determined to avoid him all costs.

“It could be fun! Y’know, you could even try to swim this time.”

“I definitely won’t”, you articulated, not being able to repress a chuckle at her hopeful expression.

When she joined her hands in front of her face and leaned towards you, looking at you with her giant dark brown eyes, you slightly shook your head. “Not gonna happen.”

“Please?”, she whispered.

You gave her a quick look from under your lashes, bringing a scoop of ice cream to your lips. Trying to stall, you made sure to finish the entire spoon before shrugging. “Will you keep him away from me?

“Of course!” Her excitement was so contagious that you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘Not gonna happen’, huh?

Later that day, when you were waiting for the rest of the group to come, you were already starting to regret to regret your decision.

“Stop being so nervous”, Sarah murmured, giving you a look with the corner of her eyes.

You narrowed your brows. “I’m not.”

“Your leg is bouncing”, she pointed out and you eye rolled.

Before you could think of a comeback, Kie’s voice was barely audible above the boat noise. “Well, if you hadn’t stopped to buy all those snacks, we wouldn’t have been late!”

“Technically, we’re not late. You’re only used to be early”, Pope then her an amused look, throwing a Cheeto to his mouth.

They were both standing at the front of her boat, the girl’s hand raised to cover her eyes from the sun.

Behind them, maneuvering the boat, there were both JJ and John B. The latter quickly started to disappear to you as you focused on the blonde — he wasn’t wearing a shirt, which was nothing new to you, and his blonde locks were pulled back by a blue bandana. You were mesmerized by that sight — so much that you were almost drooling.

Sarah elbowed you and you cleared your voice, strengthening the grip on your bag as you looked away from him. After all, you still hadn’t forgiven and forgotten all the mean things that he had told you.

JJ saw you even before you could notice him standing next to John B. No one had told him that you’d have come along, but he now wished someone had. He was totally taken aback, mesmerized by your sight. The way the sun was making your hair shine or the way you’d wiggle your nose when talking to Sarah — that shit was driving him crazy.

“You okay?”, Sarah asked to make sure. Carefully avoiding looking at him, you nodded and gave her a fake smile.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

When the boat was close enough for you to hop in, John B didn’t waste any time and quickly approached Sarah. He was firmly holding her hand and said “Come on up.” You felt the urge to look away, almost as if you were witnessing something of extremely private.

When it was your turn to get on the boat, you handed your bag to Pope, who’d kindly offered to help you. Right before you could place your foot on the top of the boat, JJ hurried to get next to you. He offered you a hand and you looked at it, dumbfounded, for a couple of seconds.

Then you pushed it away and murmured “I can make it.”

And you did — even at the cost of breaking your own neck. You got on the boat with a little jump, and you gave Pope a little smile of victory, completely ignoring the blonde standing behind you.

You didn’t even had the courage to look at him in the eyes.

Just when you were about to get away from him and approach Sarah, JJ said “Y/N.”

Your body tensed up and you froze still.

“Y/N, please”. Your eyes shut once again at the sound of his pleading voice.

“Leave me alone, JJ.” And, surprisingly, for the next hour he did.

Contrary to what you thought at first, you were having a good time. Despite the fact that Kie was still throwing daggers at you, trying to read and understand you, the rest of the group was being extremely friendly and funny.

JJ had even stopped trying to talk to you, which was a relief. What he hadn’t stop doing, however, was throwing you looks with the corner of his eyes. He was always looking at you, especially when he thought you weren’t looking.

That until Pope proposed “You guys in for a swim?”

“Hell yeah”, Kie immediately stood up. “This sun is literally killing me.”

It didn’t take long for the rest of the crew to join them and, after some chats and laughter here and there, everyone jumped in the water. Everyone except JJ.

Before joining them John B turned to you and asked, “You coming?”

“Nah, I think I’ll pass”, you replied, giving him a smile. And with that he disappeared, joining his friends in the water.

JJ was sitting not far away from you, his legs dangling out of the boat. There was a weird silence between the two of you, and the tension was almost touchable. You hated that situation.

“Why didn’t you go swimming?”, he suddenly asked you, turning his head towards you.

There was no way you could get out of this, so you’d better have it done with it. When you slowly turned towards him, facing him, your heart skipped a beat. His eyes were a lot different than the last time you saw him and the hurt in them almost made you break.

“Why didn’t you?”, you retorted and he ironically snorted. Then you closed your eyes, trying to calm your nerves. You turned completely towards him, crossing your legs while doing so. “I don’t know how to swim”, you explained in a low voice.

Why the hell were you justifying yourself with him?

He seemed genuinely surprised. His brows narrowed and he placed the beer he was drinking right next to him. “What? You never tried or—”

“No, I’m — I have thalassophobia.”

His brows narrowed even further. “Not following you.”

“It means that I’m scared of open water” you patiently explained, and he remained quiet.

Until he got up and walked towards you, sitting right in front of you.

“What— what are you doing?” You weren’t sure you were able to control your emotions around him. After all, being around him was enough, considered what he’d told you.

“Y/N”, he started, taking a deep breath and lowering his gaze for a couple of seconds before looking back at you. “I’m sorry. I said a lot of things that night and I regret every word I said.”

JJ was apologizing, but that didn’t mean that you weren’t still hurt by the way he treated you.

He frowned when he noticed that you had no intention to reply. “You heard me?”

The guys were shouting and laughing while splashing each other, so you quickly looked away from them and met JJ’s eyes.

“I did”, you immediately said, quickly nodding at his question. “I also heard you when you said you weren’t that desperate to accept a Kook’s help. My help.”

He sighed deeply and shook his head, lot of emotions going through his eyes “A lot of things happened that night. And Rafe’s always in my way, always trying to mess with me, and that night was just the tip of the iceberg.”

The sea breeze pushed some locks of your hair right in front of your face, so when JJ raised a hand to pull them behind your ear, you didn’t move a muscle to stop him.

“This isn’t even about Rafe anymore, JJ. This is about you not accepting the fact that I’m a Kook!” Once again, as it usually happened in his presence, you temper was showing up.

“It isn’t about Rafe, huh?”, he snapped back. “So how come he’s always in the way when it comes to you?”

“Because he’s my friend! I know it’s hard to understand, I know it’s not easy for you, but I care about him. I know he can be mean; I know he’s an asshole most of the times, but I know him better, JJ.”

He scoffed, as if you were saying something that it was unthinkable for him. “Can’t fuckin’ believe it.”

“And if you can’t get over the fact that I’m his friend, that I’m a Kook, then we really shouldn’t see each other anymore. You were right.” You let out a defeated sight and you stood up, trying to walk away and ditch him there, when he immediately stood too. He gently grabbed your arm, meeting your eyes.

“Wait, Y/N. Listen, I don’t care, okay?” When did he get so close to you? You were so involved in your conversation that you hadn’t noticed how close his body was. “I said some mean shit that night, but I didn’t mean any of it. I don’t care if you’re from the Cut or from Figure Eight, Y/N. You could be from Narnia, for what matters, and I’d still like you.”

Wait what?

“You what?” The shock in your voice was evident.

It looked like JJ wanted to say something, so he parted his lips, but he immediately closed them back. Then he took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “Yes, I like you, Y/N. I like how you’re not afraid to step up and speak your mind. I like how kind you are, to everyone – no matter what. And sure as hell I like the way you make me want to be a better person.”

The burden you felt in your heart was slowly dissolving at his words — did he feel that way all this time?

He cupped your cheeks with his warm hands, and you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. To be completely honest, it scared you like hell the way you felt safe in his arms. When you leaned towards his hand, you reopened your eyes only to see him slightly smile.

“Good thing is, I don’t dislike you, either”, you teased him. He chuckled, slightly shaking his head, and once again you leaned towards him and placed your lips on his.

JJ didn’t waste any time. He placed one hand in the back of your neck in the attempt of pulling you closer to him, as he kissed you back. He immediately deepened the kiss, kissing you as if he was afraid of losing you.

Both your hands slid between his blonde locks, and at that gentle touch a deep groan came up from his throat.

Just when you were starting to be short of breath, you heard a loud voice saying “It’s about fuckin’ time!”

When you — reluctantly — pulled away from him and looked towards your friends, John B had a huge smile on his face as he looked at the two of you. Sarah cupped her hand around her mouth and let out a little “Woo-hoo”, and even Kie seemed sort of relieved that you two finally sorted your problems out.

JJ didn’t let go of you, his arm was still surrounding your waist as he kept you close to him. He paid little attention to his friends, moving his lips to your cheek up till the spot under your ear. You closed your eyes, smiling at the sweetness of his kisses, as he murmured in your ear “I was really hoping to make you mine, Kitten.”

—

“Je.”

JJ raised his brows. “Je.”

“M’appelle”, you articulated.

The blonde sitting in front of you looked down at the book. “M’appelle”, he repeated.

“JJ.”

He looked up to meet your eyes. “That’s easy. JJ.”

“Now repeat it.” You bit your lip as you tried to repress a little laugh.

JJ leaned towards you, placing both his elbows on the desk as he brought his face closer to yours. “You’re kinda hot when you’re bossy.”

“JJ”, you said in a warning tone.

“Y’know”, he started, and the grin on his face didn’t promise nothing good. “It could be useful. You could talk dirty to me in French.”

You kicked him from under the table, giving a quick look in the room around you to make sure that no one heard. “Stop it”, you hissed, making him chuckle.

“You’re blushing.”

“I should never have accepted tutoring you.” Of course you were lying.

And JJ knew it. “Liar.”

“J, will you focus? Please?”

“Can I have a kiss every time I get it right?”

“Shut up and pay attention to me.” Tutoring JJ turned out to be harder than expected. Especially when he took every chance he had to make you blush or tease you.

JJ cleared his voice and faked a salute “Yes ma’am.”

Oh man, this was gonna be a long, long semester.

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj obx #rudy outer banks #rudy pankow #rudy x reader #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #obx #obx jj #obx jj x reader #obx jj maybank

229 notes · View notes

springsaladgaming · 3 years

Text

Follower Milestone

Hey there, all! I recently passed 400 followers, so I thought it would be nice to gift you all some writing!

I had a particular short story that I wanted to gift when we got here, but I’m not entirely happy with it and want to rewrite it.

So, instead, I thought it would be fun to share the predecessor of Ninelives. For those of you who don’t already know, Ninelives was adapted from a short story that I wrote a decade ago for university. It is about a young man who is struggling with depression and, in a failed suicide attempt, learns a small thing about his parents that could potentially evolve into something explosive.

When I started writing this short story, I realized that I wanted to turn it into a novella. The main character would have met someone with a very Carpe Diem attitude and made the shift into a healthier headspace while dealing with his family problems. The overarching theme of the story was the way that little secrets add up. It was always my plan to go back to it once I was done with school, but then real life happened a little too hard (shitty job, pretty severe depression, and some family issues). I never touched it again.

My memory is pretty famously bad about certain things (due to I think ADHD and anxiety). But, of all the short stories that I wrote at uni, I remembered this one like the back of my hand. When I started writing Ninelives, I technically still didn’t touch the old story. I didn’t need to look back at it to remember the overall narrative. I just went at it. And then, a couple of weeks ago, I found the old external drive that I used to store all of my work on and dug up this short story once again.

I think you’ll find the similarities between this short story and Chapter 1 of Ninelives pretty quickly. Dad is kind of an asshole, Mom is pretty dismissive of the main character, and the brother seems to be the only one who cares. Ninelives is also carrying on the theme of secrets in a way. I was actually a little surprised by how similar the two still are, even though they are now different works with a decade of time between them.

This short story is a decade old, thus it hasn’t been edited or revised in the same amount of time, so read it with that in mind. Also, just to be on the safe side...

CONTENT WARNINGS: discussion of suicide, drug abuse/overdose, cigarette use, verbal abuse

And now, without further ado...

Jamie’s ass was beginning to stick to the porcelain tub, and it was getting to him. As if that weren’t enough, the paper sign taped over his crotch created a pocket of hot air that made his dick stick to his leg. The sign read HOW’S THIS FOR AN EXIT, but Jamie wasn’t going anywhere, and that’s what bothered him most of all. He’d downed his father’s bottle of blood pressure meds, but nothing was happening. At least, nothing seemed to be happening, except that Jamie was now hot and sweaty. He had no idea what ODing on blood pressure meds did, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t this. He was even more sure that he wasn’t dying.

This would go down in history as the most anticlimactic suicide ever.

Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty. An hour. Jamie felt some discomfort—a little sick to his stomach, the porcelain pressing against his boney ass—that was it. Now he was bored and naked, and someone would probably come looking for him soon. Probably.

His brother, Graham, was the one who called up to him. “Hey, Jammy,” he said. “Dinner’s ready. Get down here.”

Jamie spent a good five minutes after that staring at the ceiling, which was covered in a layer of grime from years of shower steam. Either that or the years during Jamie’s childhood when he’d come in here to smoke. His parents had never looked for him here. That hadn’t changed now that it was the spare bathroom instead of Graham and Jamie’s.

But Graham knew Jamie’s hiding spots and came looking for him. Jamie heard Graham call for him in the hall for a few minutes, maybe less. Then Graham knocked on the door. “Jammers, dinner. What are you doing in there?”

Jamie hadn’t locked the door. That would have been too dramatic. Now it was a mistake, and Graham walked in just as Jamie got out of the tub and crumpled up his suicide note. The family always seemed to be catching Jamie with his pants down, just never quite so literally.

Graham didn’t seem surprised or the least bit embarrassed. Jamie felt one of the two emotions, though he wasn’t sure which, and it wasn’t so much over his nakedness as it was the other circumstances. Graham crossed his arms and said, “Taking a bath?” He raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

“No, I wasn’t jacking off,” Jamie said. “Just being here makes me limp.” The fact that Jamie hated coming home wasn’t news to Graham. Jamie thought that would be enough to end the conversation, but Graham’s eyes flashed to something behind him, and Jamie remembered he’d left the empty prescription bottle on the side of the tub.

“What were you doing, Jamie?” Graham asked.

Jamie grabbed the bottle and tossed it in the garbage along with his suicide note—or maybe it was better to call it his ex-suicide note. It would be the only ex he’d ever had. He grabbed a towel from the wall to cover himself and said, “Remind me to tell Dad that Mom’s been giving him placebos.”

“Jamie—”

“Gonna let me get dressed for dinner or what?” Jamie said.

Graham let Jamie pass but followed him down the hall to his old room. Jamie packed clothes in his backpack instead of leaving some here like Graham did. It took him a few seconds to get the shirt he was looking for. He could feel Graham’s eyes on him. He gave up on pulling out his nice pants and put on the jeans he’d worn earlier that day. Graham was getting suspicious, Jamie knew. But it didn’t matter why he was staring; it made Jamie self-conscious of just about everything under the sun. He fumbled with the button on his pants for a good few minutes—almost broke the thing off—before he got it. When he turned back to the door, Graham was still staring.

They made eye contact and Graham asked again. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” Jamie said. He tried to make his way downstairs, but Graham was blocking the door. This time, he didn’t move.

“Jamie, you’re scaring me,” Graham said.

“Would it make you feel better if I said I knew they were placebos?”

“Did you?”

Jamie pushed his way past Graham. Graham grabbed Jamie for a second and then let go, as if unsure what he was supposed to do once he had him. Jamie didn’t have the answers either, wasn’t sure what he’d do if he their positions were reversed. They would never be reversed, though. Graham’s life was perfect; suicide wasn’t even an option for him. He had no idea what it was like. Maybe that’s why he was silent now.

Once they were seated around the dinner table, it was almost as if it never happened. Their parents went on about their usual praise of Graham’s life, but not before ragging on Jamie about his. “Dinner has been at seven sharp every Saturday for the last fifteen years,” Margery said. “I don’t know why you can’t get that through your head.”

Jamie knew that. That’s why he’d chosen the time he did. “I lost track of time,” Jamie said. He didn’t say more; they were going to tear him apart either way.

“It’s those work hours of his,” Hugh said. “He has a different schedule every week. If you’d get a real job, you wouldn’t have that problem.” Hugh didn’t look up from his plate as he cut his meat. He always ate the meat first, but not before cutting it into perfect little cubes.

I have a real job, Jamie might’ve said, but they’d had this conversation before. Hugh meant a salary job. Flipping burgers didn’t count unless Jamie was making more than twenty an hour.

“Speaking of work,” Margery said, “How did your last settlement go, Graham?” Margery went for her veggies first. She didn’t eat meat and only let Hugh at dinner, though Jamie suspected he snuck it during his lunch.

“It went well,” Graham said. He’d barely touched his food, but Hugh looked up from his plate at that moment, and Graham dug in.

“You’re not usually so tight-lipped,” Hugh said.

Graham kept his eyes on his plate. “It’s pretty easy to reach a settlement when the couple agrees on it before they even come to see me,” he said.

Graham was a divorce lawyer, carrying on the family tradition. Sort of. Their grandfather had been a judge and a prosecutor before that. Hugh was also a prosecutor. Graham’s decision to become a divorce lawyer had been met with a little resistance, but Hugh readily accepted it once Graham proved it made a lot of money. Everyone’s getting divorced these days, Graham had said. I’ll never be out of the job.

“That’s how prevalent your brother is, Jamie,” Hugh said. “Divorcees go to see him even when they don’t need his help.”

Jamie kept his face in his plate and poked at his food with his fork. What Hugh really meant was, “Why can’t you be successful like your brother?” It was the same game every Saturday; that’s why Jamie hated coming here. But it meant a free meal, even if Jamie had usually lost his appetite by the time he got it. Besides, if he didn’t come, that would be just one more disappointment.

“Jamie will figure it out,” Graham said. This was his way of taking Jamie’s side. Usually.

“As soon as he figures how to pay his rent on time,” Hugh said.

Will you please stop talking about me like I’m not here, Jamie wanted to say.

“You’ve paid this month’s rent, I hope,” Hugh said.

“I paid it last month,” Jamie said. He’d borrowed some money from Graham to do so with the promise of paying it back once he found a new roommate. The last one packed up and left without a word. Jamie's parents didn't know about the money, and he wasn't about to tell them now.

“You need to learn how to get ahead in all areas of your life, not just your bills,” Hugh said.

“Jamie,” Margery said, “get your chin off the table.”

Jamie felt like he was eleven again.

Jamie went outside for a smoke when dinner was over. He didn’t smoke anymore, but he kept reserves for these occasions. Few Saturdays passed without a cigarette. He usually kept with the old ritual, smoked on the edge of the tub with the bathroom door closed and the window open. After today, he avoided that bathroom., and not only because it embarrassed him. Graham was like a hawk for the rest of the night. He didn’t take his eyes off Jamie, even when they were cleaning the dishes. He’d gone so far as to clean all the knives himself. Jamie couldn’t lay a hand on them.

Graham was outside with Jamie, too, hovering over his shoulder like Hugh used to do when Jamie was a child. “You still smoke,” Graham said.

“Only after I’m well-cooked by the parents,” Jamie said.

“Smoking will kill you, you know,” Graham said. He shifted his stance. “Why not just smoke two packs a day?”

“Because so far the only life goal I’ve met is not getting cancer.”

“We’re switching rooms tonight.”

“Why?”

Graham took Jamie’s cigarette and tossed it into the gravel. “My room doesn’t have a lock,” Graham said.

“Oh, please,” Jamie said. “I didn’t lock the bathroom door, did I?”

“Thank god for that.”

“What does it matter?” Jamie said. “Dad will kill me when he finds that bottle in the trash anyway.”

“Let’s go inside,” Graham said.

“I didn’t get to finish my cigarette.”

“Inside, now,” Graham said.

Jamie didn’t have time to move before Graham corralled him inside with a hand on his shoulder. When they came in, Margery was on the landing and Hugh was shouting at her from their bedroom. To Margery, Jamie and Graham must have looked like two brothers who’d just shared a special moment. It was some kind of special moment, but she didn’t pick up on the animosity and smiled down at them.

“What’s Dad shouting about?” Graham asked.

“He can’t find his medication,” Margery said. “I’m sure he just misplaced it. Wouldn’t be the first time. I assume you two are leaving early tomorrow?”

Graham nodded. “Actually, I’ve been talking to Jamie about moving in with him.”

“Oh?” Margery said.

Jamie echoed the oh so immediately that they almost said it at the same time.

“Yes,” Graham said. His fingers dug in to Jamie’s shoulder. “At least until he can find a new roommate.”

Margery smiled. “Maybe you can help him get his life on track,” she said.

“Something like that,” Graham said, and he shook Jamie’s shoulder.

Graham was true to his word and made Jamie take his room. He opened the doors wide and, instead of going to bed himself, sat and watched Jamie from across the hall.

“You have to drive in the morning,” Jamie said.

“You’ll drive,” Graham said.

“Not afraid I’ll crash the car?”

“No,” Graham said, “because then it would be a murder-suicide.”

“You’re not moving in with me,” Jamie said.

“Either I move in with you or I check you into a psyche ward on suicide watch.”

“The apartment is small.”

“Jamie, I lived in a smaller apartment through eight years of college,” Graham said. “I’ll manage.”

“You’re really going to watch me sleep?” Jamie asked.

“Get used to it,” Graham said. “From now on, I’ll have to watch you do a lot of things.”

In the morning, Graham was still watching. The two of them drove back to Denver in Graham’s SUV, and Graham started moving some of his things into Jamie’s apartment later that day.

#follower gift #short story

23 notes · View notes

recollins · 4 years

Note

hi! can you do one of reid and he has a secret girlfriend/fiance/wife (idk your choice haha) that the team doesnt know about then something happens to spencer (hospital maybe) or the team meets her by chance and everyone is surprised and start piecing together why reid declined to go out all those times and stuff? you have free reign over this drabble I know it'll turn out great anyways! thanks!!

Of course! This is so cute! Sorry, I know this took a hot minute, but I apparently don’t have the ability to write short drabbles (and of course my internet went out for like an hour when I was ready to post 🙄). I hope you don’t mind it went a little long, hopefully you enjoy this!

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader Words: 3,531 Content: Fluff Warnings: Knife injury, stitches Masterlist

The tentative hand tugging on your pencil skirt was right on time. With a smile, you sat the stack of book returns on the shelf and turned to smile at your favorite visitor. As soon as she saw she had your attention, June held up the most recent book you’d recommended to her, beaming as she said excitedly,

“Zero found his mom! I was happy he was gonna live with Stanley but now he has his her too!”

“See? And you were worried it wasn’t gonna be a happy ending,” you teased the enthusiastic seven-year-old as you crouched down to her level. “Did you like it?”

June nodded enthusiastically, her blonde curls bouncing wildly with the movement. “I loved it! I would’a been so scared with all those lizards though! I don’t know how Zero and Stanley were so brave!”

“It’s not easy to be brave, but doing the right thing can show you that you’re a lot stronger than you might believe,” you told her, and to your surprise you saw uncertainty clouding her soft blue eyes.

“Miss (Y/N), do you think I could be brave?”

You nodded and reached up giving her chin a gentle squeeze before you stood. “You already are. I mean, you walk here from school every day by yourself. That’s pretty brave, if you ask me.”

To your surprise, June dropped her eyes and gave her small shoulders a dismissive shrug. “I’m not as brave as my big brother. He can climb all the way to the top of our tree and I’m too scared to even go past the first branch.”

As you did every Wednesday, you rested a hand on June’s shoulder and led her with you over to the children’s section of the library. Instead of instantly taking her to seek out a new book for the week, you led her to the reading nook and nudged her towards one of the chairs as you sat across from her.

“You remember Dr. Reid, don’t you?” you prompted, and June’s smile flickered back to her face as she gave an eager nod. How could she not? Spencer had come by the Story Circle – a kids book club you hosted every Saturday – and had eagerly joined in on your discussion of that month’s book, The Hobbit.

Though not [as] gifted as Spencer Reid (honestly, you didn’t think anyone else really was), June was an incredibly smart little girl and read well over her normal age group. It turned out that The Hobbit was one of her favorite books, and she and Spencer had spent hours talking about it after the club had ended.

“Well, he’s an FBI agent. Remember?” June nodded again. “Do you think he’s brave?”

“He is,” she confirmed instantly, and a smile came to your face. “He’s probably the bravest person ever!”

“I think so too,” you admitted, grinning back at her. But you think your brother’s pretty brave too, huh?”

June nodded, a little slower this time, trying to figure out the point you were about to make. “But he’s not an FBI agent like Dr. Reid.”

“He’s not. But he can still be brave, because there are different kinds of braveness in the world. Dr. Reid goes out and finds bad guys, and your brother can climb trees and not get scared.” June’s brow furrowed as you added pointedly, “and you walk all the way to the library by yourself. Everyone’s brave in their own way, but Dr. Reid’s bravery isn’t any different from yours. They’re all just as important, and all just as impressive.”

June’s smile took up her whole face, and to your surprise she hopped off her chair and rushed over to hug you tight. You laughed and hugged her back as she said, “thank you Miss (Y/N). you know what?” You pulled back and raised a brow at her in question. “You’re just like Gandalf. You’re wise and you always say things that make other people feel better. Like he does with Bilbo!”

You laughed with her as you got to your feet, taking her hand to lead her towards the shelves you wanted. “So then does that make you Bilbo?”

“Uh-huh. And Dr. Reid is Thorin, ‘cause he’s really smart and clever, but he’s really nice too. And he’s a leader. And he’s probably brave enough to fight Smaug.”

“I bet you’re right,” you agreed, already looking forward to telling Spencer all about this tonight. He loves little kids, and knowing June thought about him so highly would definitely make his day. “You know, speaking of bravery and dragons… I think I know a good book for you this week.”

You paused at the end of one of the aisles and knelt down – June following your movement – and you tugged out a book you’d been waiting to recommend to her. She took your offering and studied the cover as she read out,

“The Two Princesses of Bamarre?”

“Yep. Do you remember reading Ella Enchanted last month?” June nodded slowly. “This was written by the same author. It’s about a little sister who has to be really brave and go on an adventure to save her big sister. There’s dragons, ogres, and fairies in this one.”

June’s eyes widened with every word, and as you both stood she peeked up at you. “And true love?”

That was what the two of you shared – you were both hopeless romantics.

“Would I give you a fairytale story without that?” June giggled and shook her head. You nudged her gently back towards the reading nook, knowing her mom wouldn’t be by to pick her up for another hour at least. “I’ve got to finish putting the books away, so you get started on that and see if you like it, alright?”

“Thanks Miss (Y/N)!” she said eagerly, already cracking the book open on her way. You just grinned and shook your head as you headed back to the books you’d left on the shelf. The front desk phone ringing hadn’t even caught your attention, and you were just grabbing the books again when the other librarian Amy came bustling over to you, handset held out.

“It’s Stafford Hospital asking for you,” she whispered, and instantly your stomach flipped. Why was a hospital several cities over be calling for you? Warily you took the handset and said,

“This is (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Miss (Y/L/N), this is Nurse Lesser from Stafford Hospital. We’re calling you because you’re listed as the emergency medical contact for Spencer Reid.”

You nearly dropped the phone, sucking in a sharp breath as your heart skittered to a stop. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I’m not able to go into specifics right now, but if you’d be able to come down and speak with –“

“Yes, yes, I’m on my way,” you said quickly, already racing for the front desk. As soon as the call ended you practically threw the handset back to Amy as you grabbed your purse. “I’ve got to go, I’m so sorry. I’ll see you later!”

Amy didn’t even get a chance to respond before you were booking it to your car.

The normally fifteen minute drive to the hospital took you less than ten; you’d be sure not to ever mention how many traffic laws you’d broken to get there so fast. Not that you really cared about that, though. Your mind was in overdrive, heart stuttering painfully against your ribs, lungs refusing to let you get a full breath. All you could hear was emergency medical contact for Spencer Reid.

Heels and all, you practically sprinted through the ER parking lot, desperate to find out what had happened. You and Spencer had been dating for just about five months now, and though he’d listed you as his contact as soon as you’d made things official, this was the first call you’d ever gotten for it. You knew dating an FBI agent came with risks like this, but you really hadn’t been prepared for the instant panic and fear that came with knowing Spencer had been hurt.

Once inside, though, you had no idea where to go or what to do. Maybe you should’ve thought to ask that during the call, but you’d flown into panic hyperdrive and had been on a one-track-mind purpose of getting to your boyfriend as fast as possible.

You paused in the lobby for several moments, looking around desperately until you spotted someone that looked like a nurse.

“Excuse me!” you called, racing after him. The young man paused and looked back at you as you asked quickly, “I-I got a call. I’m an emergency contact for a patient –“

“Which patient, ma’am?” he asked, glancing down at a clipboard in his hand.

“Dr. Spencer Reid. He’s with the FBI, I don’t know – they wouldn’t tell me what’s wrong –“

“I’m sorry ma’am, he’s not one of my patients. If you want to wait in the lobby –“

“You don’t understand. I need to know – can you just please find out where he is? Spencer Reid. R-E-I-D. They just called me –“

“I’m sorry, did you say Spencer Reid?” a woman asked from behind you. As soon as you were distracted the nurse practically bolted from your side, but you were too busy studying the group of people behind you.

The woman who had spoken – a petite, beautiful blonde – was coming up to you, confused concern on her face. You recognized her instantly from Spencer’s description of his team, and for a moment you worried he’d be upset. He hadn’t wanted you to meet his coworkers just yet – and certainly not like this – but right now that didn’t matter.

“You must be JJ,” you started, not missing the blink of alarm she gave you as she nodded slowly.

“Yeah… I am. I’m sorry, who are you?”

Oh, right. That had probably been a lot creepier than you’d meant.

“No, I’m sorry. That was super weird of me. I’m (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N), Spencer’s girlfriend. He’s told me all about you guys.”

JJ and the others behind her all made noises of surprise. One of the men you recognized as Derek Morgan actually choked on his coffee as he spluttered, “I’m sorry, you’re what now?!”

Heat flooded your cheeks when you realized everyone was staring at you like you’d just sprouted a second head. Nervously you brought your hands together in front of you, fingers twisting together as you repeated a little quieter, “um, I’m Spencer’s girlfriend?”

“Spencer has a –“ a beautiful dark-haired woman scoffed, mouth hanging open as she tried to think of a way to finish that sentence. She must be Emily. “I had no idea Spencer had a girlfriend.”

“Surprise?” you offered, almost instantly cringing at how stupid that was. Thankfully, one of the older men seated behind the others gave an amused snort. Derek, Emily, and JJ all turned to stare at him as Emily asked incredulously,

“What, did you know about this, Rossi?”

“Of course not,” the man – apparently David Rossi – scoffed as he nodded at you. “But unlike you all it doesn’t surprise me that our resident genius would be dating a beautiful librarian. It doesn’t get any more Spencer Reid than that.”

Your cheeks were burning now as the others made noises of agreement. The last man to speak stepped forward and held out his hand to you.

“As I assume you already know, I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

“Spencer’s unit chief,” you confirmed, shaking his hand. “Though I never pictured it like this, it’s really great to meet you all finally.”

“It’s great to know you exist,” Derek quipped; Emily smacked his arm.

“You don’t know why Spence is here?” JJ prompted, and the surprise of meeting your boyfriend’s team flickered out the moment you remembered why you were here. At the look you gave her she said quickly, “don’t worry, he’s fine. He was cut by an UnSub we were chasing and he needed some stitches. We’re just waiting for the doctor to give us the clear to see him.”

Rossi patted the chair beside him and invited, “you’re more than welcome to sit with us, if we haven’t scared you off.”

“Of course not,” you smiled, taking him up on his offer and settling beside him. The others gathered a little closer, clearly ready to learn more about you. Derek wasted no time on jumping into the questions.

“So (Y/N), how long have you and Reid been dating?”

“Five months on the 18th,” you told him with a smile. His eyes widened in surprise and he made a noise of absolute shock.

“You’ve been datin’ for almost half a year and we didn’t know you existed?!”

“Um, surprise again?” you offered, getting a snort out of JJ this time. “I’m sorry. Spencer said he was waiting for the right time. He wanted to give us time to get comfortable with our relationship and make sure things were serious, and then things have just kept coming up. He definitely didn’t want to spring it on you like… well, exactly like it just happened…”

“He was going to tell us at the Halloween party, wasn’t he?” Emily asked you, and at the bewildered head nod you gave her she explained, “he was insistent we would all be there, and when we had to fly out on a case he was really upset. I thought it was just because he has an unnatural love for Halloween, but…”

“Wait,” JJ cut in, snapping her fingers. “When we invited him to lunch last week and he’d said he had to return a library book…”

The team around you ahh’d as they all chuckled. You looked around, still not getting their amusement, but thankfully Rossi caught on to your uncertainty.

“Reid’s been acting dodgy with us lately, and we’ve all been trying to pinpoint it. I can honestly tell you it’s a relief to know he’s in a relationship, not the mob.”

“You’re the only one that thought that,” Emily started, and from behind her, Aaron cleared his throat.

“No he wasn’t.”

The others turned to give him incredulous looks as JJ asked him, “you actually thought Spencer Reid was in the mob?”

“Hey, you and JJ thought he was in a fight club!” Rossi defended, and this time you had to snort.

“A fight club?” you laughed; Emily just offered a shrug as JJ said,

“He had bruises on his – oh.”

Ah, there was the burning in your cheeks again. The others laughed as Derek rubbed his hands together, looking around.

“Guess this means you all owe me your bets.” At the noise of protest around him, he said quickly, “I was the closest! I said he was crushin’ on someone!”

“You guys had money on his caginess?” you asked them with a bemused laugh. JJ, Rossi, and Hotch gave you apologetic smiles as Emily argued,

“That doesn’t count. Garcia wins, she said he had a secret girlfriend.”

“That’s not even fair,” Derek grumbled, shaking his head and crossing his arms irritably. “How is it the only one of us that was right is the one who isn’t even a profiler?”

Before they could go any further a voice called out, “I’m looking for Spencer Reid’s emergency contact, Miss (Y/L/N)?”

Instantly you scrambled out of your seat, rushing past the others to the Doctor peering down at you.

“Yes, that’s me. Is Spencer okay?”

“Yes ma’am. I’m happy to report he’s just fine,” he assured, and the group around you all made noises of relief. “He needed a decent amount of stitches but the blood loss was minimal and luckily there won’t be any long term damage. He’s ready for visitors, if you’d like me to take you back.”

Though you wanted to see him you didn’t feel right stepping in front of his team. They were his family and he’d known them all much longer than he’d known you. But when you looked back at them, JJ and Emily ushered you to go first.

“Go warn him that we’ve met, because as soon as we see him, he ain’t livin’ this down,” Derek assured you, giving a playful grin. With a laugh, you just gave a nod and followed the Doctor back into the patient rooms.

Spencer looked up at the sound of your heels, a huge smile spreading over his face. Though you instantly smiled back, you made a noise of distress seeing his bandaged arm. Rushing to his side, you gingerly took his arm and held it up, running your fingers lightly over the wrappings.

“Baby, are you okay?” you asked softly, looking up at him in concern. Spencer smiled and reached out, cupping your face with his free hand and brushing his thumb over your cheek in comfort.

“I’m just fine. I’m so sorry, I wanted to call and let you know what’d happened, but I left my phone in the SUV. I know the call from the hospital had to have taken you by surprise.”

“You know…” you started, giving him a smile as you leaned into his touch. “Not as much as finding your team in the waiting room did.”

He actually gasped, his mouth dropping into a shocked ‘O’ as he stared at you in mild horror. “Oh no. I – I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t even think about that. I didn’t mean to throw you to them like that –“

“Spencer it’s okay,” you laughed. “It wasn’t what we’d talked about but I liked meeting them. Although apparently they were making bets about why you kept ducking out of things with them.”

He frowned, an adorable pout coming over his face. “They do that a lot. And they give [me] a hard time for being from Vegas…”

With a laugh, you finally let go of his arm and reached up, cupping his face with both your hands and pulling him down into a kiss. He hummed against your lips, the hand on your cheek sliding into your hair to hold you to him. Your lips moved against one another softly, tongues brushing briefly before you broke apart to keep from going farther.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” you said softly, letting your fingers slide over his face to sweep his hair back behind his ears. “Did you catch the guy that did this?”

He nodded, a hint of pride in his soft brown eyes as he gave you a smile. “I did, actually. We managed to stop him before he killed a teen, and even did it without him taking his own life. He cut into me instead of his neck. It was close.”

You knew how bad that must’ve shaken him. Spencer had told you his hardest cases were the ones he had to watch someone take their life, almost more so than the cases with kids. To hear he’d been the hero warmed you to your core, and you knew exactly what would make him even happier.

“It’s funny, I was just telling June about how brave Dr. Reid was, and you go and prove me right.”

As expected, Spencer’s face lit up with a smile at that and he sat up a little taller. “You told her I was brave?”

“I did,” you confirmed. “And it’s been decided that she’s Bilbo, I’m Gandalf, and you’re Thorin.”

“I’m Thorin?” he asked in surprise, and you gave an eager nod. “Why?”

“According to June, you’re smart, nice, and clever. She’s a pretty perceptive first grader.”

Of all the things you loved about Spencer, his genuine humility was one of his best qualities. You knew he didn’t see himself for the incredible man he truly was, and watching the soft blush on his cheeks at June’s compliment warmed your heart even further.

Before you could sweet talk your boyfriend any further, though, you heard commotion in the hallway. The rest of Spencer’s team all piled into the room, with Derek in the lead, a phone to his ear.

“Oh yeah, baby girl. I’ve got him right here. I’ll let him tell you why he kept his girlfriend from us for five months.”

Spencer’s eyes widened as Derek held out the phone; he shook his head and Derek gave a deadpan frown. When Spencer refused again, his friend stepped up and pressed the phone to his face.

“No, Morgan, I don’t – oh, uh, hey Garcia –“

You could hear the squeaking of a very upset woman on the other end and you laughed along with the team as JJ and Emily came up on either side of you.

“So, (Y/N), how does dinner with the team Saturday night sound?” Emily mused, and JJ elaborated,

“We have about six months of embarrassing Reid to make up for, and Rossi makes a mean lasagna. You in?”

“Oh, I’m definitely in,” you laughed, catching Spencer’s eye as he rambled off a desperate apology to the phone in Derek’s hand. He raised his brows to you, silently asking, is this okay?

The smile and wink you gave him assured that yes, this was better than okay. This was as close to perfect as meeting someone’s family would ever get.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #drabble #thats a lie #this is not a drabble #this is 3.5k words lmao #my bad #Anonymous #female reader #spencer reid x female reader #criminal minds #rea writes #rea replies

501 notes · View notes

cjsinkythoughts · 4 years

Text

The Night Shift

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,189

Warnings: a few bad language words (sorry Stevie), fluff, I think that’s all

Summary: Your bad day turns worse when you're given the night shift at work. But you find it has more perks than you original thought.

A/N: Here it is! My first ever posted/published work! This is a bit new for me for quite a few reasons. 1. I usually write OCs. 2. I'm used to writing 3rd POV and past tense. 3. I like writing series and longer fics. 4k is actually pretty mild for me. Also, I'm planning on doing more first date fics with the Avengers, but we'll see if I keep up with that. Thank you and enjoy!

(Pictures not mine but collage is)

Today is not your favorite day. You woke up late, your laundry isn’t done because the machines were all being used when you tried, your roommate didn’t do the dishes so you had to do them before you left, your car broke down - meaning you had to take the Subway - and now you’re working an extra shift because your stupid coworker didn’t show up.

Who even comes in to get coffee at 9 at night? The sky is dark, the stars are out, and everyone should be getting ready for bed - including you. God. You love New York, but sometimes you wish the damn city would just go to sleep for once in it’s goddamn existence.

You’re practically asleep on your feet, getting ready to close in fifteen minutes, when the door opens, the little bell ringing in response. You rub your eyes and turn from where you’re wiping down the back counters to speak to the wackjob who wants coffee at this cursed hour.

You freeze, your eyes meeting stunning azures framed by dark lashes. Thick, soft, chocolate locks fall down past his ears and into those alluring eyes. Lips, perfectly pink and very tempting, pull up in a delicious smile. He’s got a jawline sharp as a knife, only accentuated by the dark scruff covering it. Jesus Christ this man is attractive. He’s also vaguely familiar…

He strolls up to the counter, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans that pulled taunt around his thick thighs. His shirt is pulled tightly across his shoulders, muscles flexing beneath the fabric, threatening to tear the material with every movement.

“Hello.” You thank whatever deity that might be out there that your voice doesn’t shake as you greet the gorgeous god of a man.

“Hi there, doll. Cody’s off today, huh?” Even his voice is breathtaking.

“Yeah. He didn’t show up. Is he a friend of yours?”

The man tilts his head in confusion, before his eyes light up realization. “Oh, no. No. I just come here a lot.”

“At nine at night?”

He shrugs, a small blush rising on his cheeks. “It’s the only time I get to myself really.” It clicks in your head who this man is when he raises his hand to rub the back of his neck. Black metal gleams in place of tanned skin.

“You’re Bucky Barnes!” You blink at him in disbelief. His hand quickly finds its way back to his pocket while he chuckles awkwardly. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. You’re one of my favorite Avengers! After Black Widow, obviously, but-” You stop rambling, feeling heat rise to your face. “God, I’m tired. Uh, what can I get you?” You punch in the order that he gives you and look up shyly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

He smirks and leans on the counter. “How about a name, darlin'? Yours, specifically.”

You roll your eyes, unable to contain the snort you give. “I’ll be right back with your order, sir.” You start making his drink, avoiding his eyes that you feel watching your every move. Usually you had another worker helping to make drinks, but since there’s only ten minutes until closing, you’re alone to close up the shop tonight.

You also usually only write on the cup when there’s more than one person, but you find yourself writing down your own name on his cup. It is part of his order, after all.

“Here you go.” You repeat his order, handing his cup to him.

He raises an amused eyebrow. “You forgot-” You interrupt him by clicking your tongue and turning the cup in his hands. He looks down at it curiously, before grinning and reading the ink out loud. The way your name falls off his lips has you holding in a shiver. “Thanks, sugar.” You watch him leave the shop, whistling a nameless tune, and wonder if Cody would mind switching shifts more.

Turns out, Cody had been arrested, so your boss had to hire a new kid who, because of school, couldn’t do the night shifts. Which meant your shifts changed. Not that you mind all that much; it gives you more chances to see Bucky.

When he said he comes in often, he wasn’t lying. Occasionally he stays while you clean and lock up and the two of you get lost in conversation under the city lights outside the shop. He usually orders and leaves with a witty comment and a wink, probably off to save the world from aliens or Nazis. He always orders the same thing, but he always asks for a little something extra, different every night.

“The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Anything else?”

“Your phone number would be great.”

“I’ll get right on your drink, Buck.”

“Awesome. Can you add your favorite flowers to that, too? Thanks, sugar.”

“I’m gonna change it up today, dollface.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll have the usual, but on the side I want to know what your favorite dessert is.”

He’s such a charmer. You aren’t sure if he’s just flirting or if he actually likes you. You think maybe he does that with every girl - waitresses, cashiers, secretaries - and he’s just being friendly. You’re sure after being stuck as a brainwashed assassin for nearly a century, flirting and cracking jokes with people makes him feel more normal. Still, you can’t help but wish that maybe the relationship you have now would become…more.

It’s not until he shows up a few weeks after your first meeting that you finally get an answer to whether or not he really likes you.

The bell rings, signifying a customer coming into the shop. You know it’s Bucky by the watch on your wrist; in the past few weeks of working the night shift, only one other person came in at nine o’clock.

“Good evening, beautiful.” A smile lifts the corners of your mouth at the familiar smooth voice that you could listen to all day. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

You straighten up and look over the counter. “It’s called inventory. How’s your day been, Buckaroo?”

“Better now that I get to see your pretty face.”

You roll your eyes, face heating up and a small smile gracing your features. “Give me a minute and I’ll have your drink done. Anything extra?”

“This is a bit riskier than normal, but I’ve been wanting to try it for a while. Can I get your schedule?”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion as he smirks confidently. “My schedule?”

“Yeah. I just need to know something.”

“What would that be?”

“You free on Saturday, doll?”

* * * * * * * *

Saturday comes much too slowly for your liking, especially considering he asked you out only two days prior. He didn't tell you what you'd be doing today, so you decide on a casual sundress that you can play off as fancy if you need it to be. The color and style compliments you and your beautiful features perfectly and you can only hope he agrees. Your roommate assured you you looked gorgeous before going out with some of their other friends this morning.

You're just putting the finishing touches on your outfit for the day when a knock on your door sounds throughout your apartment. You check your watch: 10:30 on the dot. Just like he said. You get up too quickly, causing you to trip on your own feet and stumble - but luckily you catch yourself before you fall. Feeling simultaneously embarrassed and relieved he didn't see your clumsy actions, you head to open the door.

A bouquet of your favorite flowers appeared once you open the door, bright cerulean eyes shining at you from behind them. He grins, said eyes scanning your figure. "You look pretty as a picture, doll."

You duck your head bashfully, taking the flowers from him. "Thank you." You not so subtly check him out as you put the flowers in a vase. Like always, Bucky is absolutely stunning: his brown locks frame his face, falling into those mesmerizing blues, which are even more so due to the dark blue t-shirt under the light bIue jean jacket hugging his muscled torso. Dark jeans pull taunt across those thighs, his large hands in his pockets casually. You find yourself frowning when you notice his left hand is covered by a black glove. You want to say something, but decide against it, too anxious to ruin the date with this god of a man.

He clears his throat, which brings your gaze back to his face. You feel yourself heat up at the smirk on his perfectly pink lips. "Uh, I, um, so...what are we doing today?"

"I thought we could have some fun today, since all you ever seem to do is work."

"I don't always work." You quickly defend. He raises a disbelieving eyebrow, making you drop your head again. "Okay. Maybe I don't get out much."

He chuckles. "Good thing. That way I get you to myself." There's that smug smirk again. "As for what we're doing, that's for me to know and you to find out. I'd wear walking shoes if I were you, though."

You give him a curious look, moving over to grab your keys, phone, and wallet, before slipping on your sneakers. "I don't get a hint or anything?"

"And ruin the surprise? Where's the fun in that?" You giggle a bit as the two of you head out your door and down the hall. "I didn't know if you mind motorcycles, so I just borrowed Steve's car." He tells you in the elevator.

You talk about motorcycles and your opinion of them as you walk out your building and into the bright Spring sun. Your eyes widen at the nice Camaro parked in the street that he leads you to. "Wow."

"Yeah." Bucky nods in agreement. "Tony had it custom made for Steve for their anniversary a few months ago."

"And he's allowing you to use it?"

Bucky chuckles, running a hand through his hair as a pink tint dusts his cheeks. "'Allow' is a strong word."

You laugh as he opens the passenger door for you. You thank him, sliding onto the nice brown leather seat. "Does he even know you have it?"

He shrugs, shutting the door and leaning into the open window. "He'll find out soon, I'm sure."

Another laugh escapes you, a smile adorning his lips at the sound. He walks around the car, doing a hood slide to make you chortle again. While you two start driving, you try to convince him to give you a hint, but he's stubborn, denying you answers with that annoyingly charming smirk of his.

You recognize the direction you're going after a while and bounce in your seat as you arrive. "Coney Island?"

"I haven't been here since before the War and I've been meaning to come see how it's changed." He told you with a grin. "Who better to come check it out with than the pretty dame who serves me coffee at nine o'clock without complaining?"

Rolling your eyes to cover how much comments affect you, you smile teasingly in return. "Have you always been such a charmer, Barnes?"

He parks the car before shooting you a wink. "Only to angels, darlin', and you're the first one I've met so far."

You inwardly curse, hating how easily flustered you get around him. He gets out of the car and you're about to follow when he opens your door for you and offers his hand to you like the gentleman he is. You take it, enjoying the feeling of your smaller one against his rough calluses, and he helps you out of the car, shutting the door behind you.

"You ready to have the time of your life, dolIface?"

"As long as you get me a treat." You joke, linking your arm with the one he offers.

"Like I wasn't going to?" He scoffs back. "Who do you think l am, sugar? Now c'mon. Fun's awaitin'."

You laugh, letting him drag you around, loving the child-like wonder in his pretty eyes. Whether or not you enjoy roller coasters, you have a blast: playing carnival games, eating food you both know is terrible for you, but tastes oh so good, and people watching the interesting crowds, all while teasing and playing around with each other. There's nothing better you can think of to do with your free day than goof off with Bucky, no stress or worries plaguing your mind like usual. He even wins you multiple adorable plushies! Being a super soldier wasn't just good for saving the world, evidently.

It was while you're eating lunch that you ask Bucky why he's wearing a glove. "I've already seen your arm. I don't mind."

He hesitates, opening his mouth before licking his lips nervously. "It's not...I know you don't. I just don't...I dunno. I don't wanna freak anyone out."

You frown and put down your food, leaning forwards on your elbows. "First off, I think you're an amazing person. Just throwing that out there. Second, I don't think anyone will mind. You're a hero. An Avenger. Basically a celebrity with a badass arm. And, finally, if anyone does say anything, I'll tell them off. Easy peasy."

He snorts at that, before looking at his gloved hand warily. You reach across the table to give both his hands a squeeze. He meets your eyes and you grin reassuringly back. "If you're not comfortable, that's okay. Just know that other people should never be the reason to hide yourself. Trust me."

"I do." He says genuinely. You give him a questioning look, playing with the tips of his gloved fingers. At his nod, you slowly start taking his glove off, giving him time to say no. He doesn't, letting you tug it all the way off. He blushes when you lift the smooth metal to your lips.

"So, what's next? Wanna win me one of those monkeys with the velcro hands?" He chuckles at your question, telling you he'd win you all of them if you asked. You giggle, tightening your hold on his hand and, after finishing the last bite of food, pulling him to the booth with the monkey prizes.

When it starts getting dark, Bucky convinces you to go on the Ferris Wheel with him, promising to hold your hand the whole time if you're scared of heights (even though you haven't let go of his hand or arm since lunch). It's one of the most stunning scenes you've ever seen. The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, a few stars dotting the darkened sky, a rare sight living in New York City. The aforementioned city's lights were turning on, causing the skyline to glow brightly. It's hard to think of anything bad about NYC when she looks like that.

"Wow. " You breath, enchanted by the city you've grown to love as home. "There's something almost...magical about it, don't you think?" You turn to Bucky, still captivated by the view, expecting him to be the same. After all, New York has been his home for over a century and so much has changed. Instead, you find him intently watching you, a small, adoring smile etched on his features. You smile shyly, unable to keep his gaze while he's looking at you like that - like you're the most enthralling thing he's seen, bewitching his heart and soul, even with the magnificent picture before you.

"Yeah...there is." He agrees, grabbing your chin between his left thumb and pointer finger gently, making your eyes meet. His right arm is around your shoulders, pulling you into his warm chest, heating you up from the chill the night is bringing.

Your heart drums hard against your ribs when he glances at your lips and you're sure he could hear it, even without his enhanced hearing. Your eyes lock onto his lips as his tongue darts out to wet them. You're suddenly so much closer, his right hand holding the back of your neck delicately while his left cups the side of your jaw. Your hands are gripping his jacket, noses brushing.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice comes out low and raspy.

"If you didn't, I'd probably smack you."

You feel his deep chuckle reverberate through his chest, which you just notice is pressed solidly against yours. Before you can process anything, his lips are slanted over yours. They're softer than you originally thought and they move expertly against yours. It surprises you, before you remember he's technically over a century old, so of course he has experience.

The kiss is over before you want it to be, but the need for oxygen gets too much and your lungs start to sting, so you pull back reluctantly, your hands now in his hair while he's holding your face tenderly.

"Speaking of magic."

You laugh, rolling your eyes as the Ferris Wheel starts turning again. "Who knew Bucky Barnes is such a sap?"

He smirks, leaning forwards to peck your Iips a couple times. "I prefer the term 'romantic'."

Once you get off, you hold onto his elbow, leaning against his shoulder. "Thank you for bringing me, Buck. I really enjoyed today."

"Well that's good considering we're not done."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Wait, what?"

Bucky scoffs in amusement. "You didn't think that was all, didya, doll? The day's not over; the night's still young!" His right arm slings around your shoulders, pulling you close and kissing your head.

"Okay. What's next?" You ask curiously. He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on those delicious lips. "Another surprise?"

"Hope you're hungry, sweetheart."

"Dinner?"

Giving you a charming grin, he leads you back to the car. "Guess you'll have to wait 'n see, darlin’."

* * * * * * * *

"Buck.” You groan, toeing the ground nervously. The blindfold covering your eyes was keeping you from seeing anything and, to your embarrassment, you've already tripped more times than you care to admit. “Where are we? l feel like we've been walking forever. Can I take this stupid thing off yet?”

Bucky chuckles softly in your ear, holding you steady as you walk on the uneven surface beneath your feet. “We’re almost there, doll. I promise."

Letting out a huff, you let him lead you further along. Finally, after what feels like hours, though you know you're being dramatic and haven't been walking that long, he stops. "Stay right here," he mumbles, his hands that were on your shoulders leaving, along with his warmth behind you, with a kiss to your cheek.

"Haha. You're so funny."

A couple snickers leave his lips and you can just imagine the smile no doubt gracing his features - the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes adorably. You feel wind nip at your bare skin and shiver slightly, wondering where the hell you are.

"Okay. C'mere." His hands are on you again, the contrast of the two adding to the goosebumps the breeze was giving you. "Right here." You can practically feel his excitement and nerves as he positions you. "Alright. Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be, I suppose."

His nimble fingers are suddenly at the edge of cloth covering your eyes, which he makes quick work of, tugging it off gently. "You can open your eyes, sugar." He chuckles, seeing your eyes tightly clenched shut. You do as he says and blink them open. The sight that meets you takes your breath away.

He brought you to a beach, which you had kind of already guessed due to the sad slipping through your shoes. In front of you, a blanket is spread out, being held at the corners by lanterns, which are connected by a string of fairy lights outlining the blanket. Pillows are scattered on the blanket, a picnic basket to the side while a single red rose is in a small vase in the center with rose petals surrounding the setup. He really is a romantic.

"Bucky. It's beautiful. When did you set this up?"

He rubs the back of his neck, turning red. You smile, enjoying the fact that you can make him just as flustered as he makes you. “Actually, the team helped me out a bit. It was originally just Natasha and Steve. But, uh, then Tony and Wanda found out and then...Sam."

You giggle, knowing his and Sam's brotherly relationship from previous conversation. "I bet he teased the shit out of you when he found out."

"Please," Bucky scoffs. "I'll be the butt of his jokes for at least a month. At least, this part of me will."

"Well, I love this side of you if that's worth anything."

He grins dashingly at you. "Then let the birdbrain tease, because that’s worth everything. Here." Taking your hand, he leads you over to the blanket and sits you down. "All those questions at the coffee shop and I never asked your favorite drink so I brought red, white, beer, Coke, Pepsi, root beer, and," he pulls out the last bottle he brought with a boyish smile. "Apple juice. There's water in 'ere too. And, o' course, the meal and the dessert, which I did ask about because I'm not a complete idiot."

Laughing, you can't help but pull him in for a kiss. "You're so cute."

He clears his throat, his face heating up while he rubs the back of his neck, tying his hair back in a knot. He hands out compliments like candy on Halloween but he can't take them to save his life. How adorable can one man be?

You two eat and talk about everything from hilarious childhood stories to what keeps you up at night. You love listening to his fascinating tales of playing through the 20s, scraping through the 30s, and fighting through the 40s. You especially love the way his face lights up when talking about his family, the Howling Commandos, and America's Golden Boy, both twink and tank stories.

After a couple hours, you find yourself wrapped in his warm jacket - which smelled amazing - leaning against him as he tells you about his new family. You sip on your preferred drink, your eyes fluttering shut, content to simply listen to his soothing voice talking about Clint and Scott's latest prank on Pietro.

"You tired, doll?" You hear him whisper tenderly, his arms around your waist while his thumbs run small circles on your sides.

You hum and look back at him over your shoulder. "Just feeling the moment." He smiles adoringly at you, kissing your temple.

"It's getting late anyways. We should get you home. Don't want your roommate worrying."

You scoff, but agree. You help him clean up and carry things to the car, despite his protests. You nearly fall asleep on the ride back, his big, warm hand resting comfortably on your thigh the whole way. He squeezes gently when you pull up to your building, murmuring lightly to wake you up.

Ever the gentleman, he walks you inside and helps you bring the armful of prizes he got you to your door. Once there, you unlock the door and lean against the frame, facing him.

"Thank you, James. As far as first dates go, this is by far the best one I've had."

He shoots you a smug grin. "Glad to hear that, beautiful. Does that mean if I asked for a second date you'd say yes?"

You give him a smirk back. "I'd say your chances are very good."

"And if asked for a goodnight kiss from the most gorgeous girl I've ever been blessed to be in the presence of?"

You giggle, ducking your head shyly. His hands grip your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. He nudges your nose with his, whispering against your lips, "is that a yes?" AII you can think to do is nod. He smirks at your reaction, before he's pulling your lips against his. It's more passionate, less hesitant and experimental, than the few previous kisses you shared. He's angling your face to deepen the kiss, his hands tangle in your hair and his tongue prods your lips open, swallowing the little whimper you let out.

When you pull back, you're breathless, panting against his open month. "You workin' tomorrow, darlin'?" He rasps out.

"No." You try to collect yourself enough to answer, although it's hard with all your nerves on fire, his scent fogging up your brain. You manage to move your heavy tongue enough to say, "I have the weekend off."

A broad grin lights up his pretty face. "Great. I'll be over at nine. Have a nice night, sweetheart."

You nod, an airy "goodnight" leaving your lips. You watch him walk off, a pep in his step and his lips turned up. You lean back against your door, hugging all your new plushies to your chest, still wrapped up in his jacket, and let out a sigh.

You'll have to go visit Cody and thank him. After all, that dreadful night shift gave you the best day of your Iife.

#cjsinkythoughts #cjswriting #first written work #first published work #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #please excuse any mistakes #thanks for reading!#first dates w/ avengers #💙🦾

124 notes · View notes