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mermaidchansons · 2 years ago

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Warm Colors: Chapter 8

SugarDaddy!M’Baku x Oshun(reader)

Summary: After leaving St. Lucia, Oshun stays at Megan's house to nurse her heartache; but a moment of weakness changes the tides.

Words: 2400+

Warnings: A bit of smut, 18+ only

Author’s Note: After this chapter, there will only be two chapters left y’all! Thanks for reading this far!

Translations: sthandwa (my love), thixokazi wam (my goddess), ndiyakuthanda (i love you), omncinci (little one), ukukhanya kobomi bam (light of my life)

Recommended listening: Nobody Gets Me by SZA, BAD BOY by Yseult

Chapter 8

Megan’s Home, Pasadena

It had been weeks since you’d left your small haven on the white sands of the Saint Lucian beach. Your concept of time was shot in the wake of your grief and you weren’t sure of just how many weeks it had been. Maybe two and a half, but no more than 4. Once you arrived home, you saw the usual guards were no longer standing in their place and Zoya was nowhere to be seen. Would his things be gone? The emptiness had begun to set in and you couldn’t even bring yourself to open the door of the loft. The loft that he had paid for. And so, you rushed to the only place that was not yet tainted with heartache, Megan’s house.

“You need to get up. You haven’t even eaten since yesterday, O.”

You had gone to Megan’s to lean on her emotionally, but she was visibly more heartbroken than you were. With the dissolution of the contract between you and M’Baku came the end of Megan x Zoya. He couldn't stay behind to be with her and she knew that. But that knowledge didn’t stop her from wishing their time spent together was longer. Meg was carrying on with her sobbing and crying and you were just.. there. You didn’t want to cry or pout or talk about your feelings. You just wanted to push the fast-forward button on this series of feelings that were trying to bubble out of you and get to the point where you no longer missed M’Baku; a timeline where you weren’t in love with him anymore.

Sitting up on the couch, you lazily held the remote and let it dangle between your fingers. You clicked through the channels aimlessly until you landed on HGTV. Satisfied with the show, you leaned back into the indent your body had made on the couch. Meg passed you on the sofa and stood in front of the tv.

“Meg, I just found this channel. Move, please.”

“You need to get up. All you do all day is watch tv. I haven’t seen you sketch or paint anything since you got here. I know you and M’B-”

“Please don’t say his name.”

“Fine. I know you and him parted ways but you still need to be you. Maybe if we went back to the loft, you could get some painting done.”

“I can’t. Artists block.”

You shifted your weight on the couch and returned your attention to the interior design show on the tv. Megan sighed, leaving the room in a huff and returning with the jingle of her keys sounding in the room.

“Let’s go. Now.”

In the car, you stared out the window at the high rises as you entered downtown Los Angeles once again. A twinge in your chest signaled the incoming heartache but you ignored it. You weren’t allowing yourself to feel right now, and a silly little building would not be the cause of your first breakdown in weeks.

“So.. How long do you get to stay in the loft?”

“The rent is paid through the end of the year so I’ve some months,” you sighed and placed a hand on Megan’s thigh as she drove.

“I’m sorry about Zoya. I can’t help but feel like this is my fault.”

She shook her head and placed her hand on top of yours, granting you a comforting squeeze.

“Don’t do that. We knew the risks.”

A sad moment of silence passed before she returned her hand to the steering wheel. You looked through your phone, contemplating if you should delete his number.

“You gotta get a job now, huh? My job is looking for a project coordinator.”

“Actually, no. In our newer contract, there was a clause saying that money would be given to me if our thing ended.”

“Well, that can’t possibly get you through the rest of the year. How much are we talking about?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t read too much into it. Hold on.”

Megan pulled into the garage of the loft and parked in your assigned spot. You unbuckled yourself and then pulled up the contract on your phone. Leaning against her shoulder, you read aloud as she followed along.

“In the event of dissolution of this contract and relationship, a sum of money will be wired into Oshun Jones’ account in the amount of-”

“One hundred thousand dollars?!”

You and Megan looked at each other in shock. Scrambling to open your banking app with shaky hands, you logged in and waited for the loading spinning wheel of death to reveal the amount. And there it was, $105,836.72. Your heartbeat in your chest pounded as memories of M’Baku’s solemn face watching you leave St. Lucia flooded your mind; his furrowed brow and the way he held onto your hand as you slipped away. When you leave, you take my heart with you, Oshun. I have no use for it now, he told you before your final embrace. He wanted to take care of you even before you knew he was in love with you. He wanted to care for you even in his absence, even after whatever was between you was no longer thriving. The familiar twinge of pain returned and you opened his contact ID once more, pressing the text icon. Your thumbs moved before you could think and suddenly, you had the need to feel.

Jabariland, Wakanda

The hot springs of Jabariland held a sacred place in each warrior’s heart. The nature-made pools were hidden between the birch trees below the throne room, on the back of a mountain. The salt-laden warm water was thought to be blessed by Hanuman themself as a haven for worn muscles, wounds from war, and aching bones. After a grueling day of training new warriors, M’Baku slipped away from the snow-covered training arena in search of the only thing that could grant him solace. A good soak in these waters aided in healing most ailments. Perhaps even a broken heart.

“I just need a moment.”

He dismissed Zoya and M’Bele so he could have time to reflect privately. He laid his staff down before slipping off his sandals. Shrugging off his wooden armor and fur-lined adornments, he stripped down and took his time getting into the water. The initial sting of warmth against his skin caught his breath before he fully sat and relaxed in the water. But his mind refused to quiet his thoughts and join his body in relaxation. Too many things were going through his mind. Ifechi’s constant suggestions for wives. Training younglings to fight. Requests from villagers. The love of his life leaving him behind.

No, he gave you that choice. He would only keep you if he could offer what you needed. You deserved more and he was aware of that. He sacrificed his pride and let you choose for both of you. And he would spend the rest of his days trying to convince himself that this decision was best for everyone.

“Lord M’Baku, there’s been-”

“Did I not ask you to give me a moment? What is so urgent that you must interrupt my quiet,” M’Baku asked, cutting off M’Bele’s message.

“It is urgent, brother.”

M’Bele handed him a small phone with the text screen lit up. He’d only used this tech to contact you and had set it aside once he returned to Jabariland, thinking he wouldn’t need it again. Yet, in one glance at the screen, M’Baku had almost leaped out of the water; all the pain from training was forgotten in an instant. He swiftly collected his armor and began his trek back to his bed chambers, grunting instructions to M’Bele about securing a transport.

I need you - O

The Ritz Carlton, Los Angeles

The next night, you paced in the foyer of the loft, wringing out your hands repeatedly. Now that you had a reply, you were regretting sending that text. A singular moment of weakness was threatening to break down all the walls you had built over the last few weeks. I need you. What did you need? Did you need attention or affection? The feeling of him filling you up as only he could? That’s it, you thought, I just need one last fuck and I can forget everything.

A knock sounded at the door and you took a deep breath before opening the door. There he was. The one man that had caused all of your happiness and anguish in the memories that you wrestled with nightly. Before he even had the chance to speak, you pulled him down by his collar and crashed your lips into him. The kiss was all-encompassing, it felt like you could breathe for the first time in days. His soft lips resting on yours were enough to clear your mind of all your previous worries. Your body was pressed against his but you needed to be closer. As if M’Baku could sense your desires, he picked you up and cradled the plush of your thighs in his hands. You practically melted into him as he carried you to the bedroom.

He sat on the bed with you straddling his thighs and you unbuttoned his shirt. He took his lips from yours and placed butterfly kisses and bites down your neck and across your chest. You bit your lip as he whispered praises in between his kisses.

Such a good girl, sthandwa

Thixokazi wam

How I’ve missed you

His words were tightening the coil beneath your tummy and it was getting to be too much. You placed his hand in your shorts where you needed it most and guided his fingers around your clit. Desperation took over as he sped up the strumming motion on your hardened bead and you rested your head on his shoulder trying to hold the incoming rush of arousal. You were almost embarrassed at how quickly he could undue you with just his words and his fingers.

You’re close, my love, I can feel it

Be good for me

Ndiyakuthanda, Oshun

Like a dam bursting, your release quaked through you while you orgasmed. Satisfaction and relief should have washed over you as you came, but a sudden sadness broke through instead. Your moans turned into sobs as you collapsed your body weight onto him and cried into the crook of his neck. Everything you had been holding in since you left the island poured out of you as he held you in his arms.

“I know, sthandwa, I know.”

Once the sobs had subsided, you clung to him as you both sat in bed with your backs against the headboard. No one had said a word but he was still rubbing soft circles onto your lower back. The sadness loomed over you but you had no more tears to cry.

“Oshun,” M’Baku cooed, “ are you still awake, omncinci?”

You only nodded into his chest and felt the rise and fall against your cheek when he sighed.

“I need to be honest with you. What do you know of Wakanda?”

“The country? Not much, besides that one UN speech on the news. Is that where you’re from?”

“Yes. But I am not from the main part of the country where the king resides.”

You straightened your body and sat up to look at him with confusion on your face.

“I don’t work for a company there. I am the leader and chief of the Jabari tribe. We have resided in the mountains of Wakanda since Bashenga discovered the great mound and I oversee the lives of about 400 of my people.”

He watched you go through the motions as you processed the information he had given you. There were so many questions you wanted to ask.

“I’m sorry for deceiving you, uthando. I just needed to ensure the safety of my people.”

“So you’re a whole king?”

“If that’s what you’d like to call me.”

“If you hold this position of power, why can’t we be together?”

M’Baku shifted his position to face you completely and held your hands. You watched as he looked down and kissed the tops of your hands, holding his lips there for a moment. His momentary silence was worrying and no amount of kisses would make it better.

“I have a council that advises me in making decisions for my people and they did not grant their blessing to us.”

“Well, maybe if you take me, I can talk to them. I could try to persuade them.”

“They will not let me take a black American chieftess, let alone bring you to Jabarliland,” he said flatly.

You were taken aback by the harshness of his words and you removed your hands from his. Anger and confusion started to boil in your chest and you got up from the bed. Holding your hands in a prayer formation, you glared at him as you gathered your thoughts.

“Let me get this straight. Because I’m black but not Wakandan black, we can’t be together. I didn’t ask to be born here, M’Baku!”

“I know, Oshun, I-”

“Do you know? You’ve been surrounded by your people your entire life. You weren’t given fewer opportunities because of your dark skin and forced to assimilate in a country that doesn’t give a shit about you! Your ancestors weren’t enslaved and mutilated or taken against their will. And because I have the unfortunate circumstance of coming from that, I’m not enough for them? For you?”

The tears had begun once and again and you rubbed your chest, trying to soothe yourself through this completely new wave of heartache. You turned to look out of the window as you could no longer bare to look at him. M’Baku made quick of coming to stand behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. You grimaced at the weight of it all but brought your hands to his arms nonetheless.

“Of course, you’re enough. You are more than enough. Sthandwa just give me some time, please,” M’Baku begged, his tone low so as not to frighten you.

“I can’t. I can’t do this. This was a mistake, asking you to come.”

He held on to you tighter, pressing a kiss onto your temple.

“Ukukhanya kobomi bam, do not shut me out.”

“Please, just go,” you cried, shutting your eyes tight.

“I love you.”

His hold on you loosened and you held your breath as he rubbed your arms and kissed your head once more; you felt the cold set in once he was no longer touching you. With the front door closed, you sat on your bed and stared out the window, letting the time pass.

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soultek · 2 years ago

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I Told You So: A Concept

Author’s Note: <to the tune of 7/22 by Taylor Edwards> It’s my birthday and I’ll post my Ronnie Peterson concept if I want to!

Hi, ADCU fans! Welcome to the first of a few concepts I’ve written for you! Ronnie is my favourite, so of course, he gets to go first!

My concepts are essentially single scenes from a much larger fic in my head, that introduce you to the relationship, and the love interest...

I hope you enjoy this one! 💙💜

Word Count: 3,567

Warning: None

Concept: Lovers to strangers to lovers.

Having moved back to the small town where she grew up, Araya does not expect to come face to face with ex Ronnie Peterson, now all grown up himself. Given the circumstances they broke up in, it’s understandable that he doesn’t want her around - but that’s the thing about a small town, it’s damn near unavoidable... In truth he still has feelings for her. But he’ll be damned if he walks down that road again, what if it ends worse than the first time?

Takes place pre-film by at least a few years.

Playlist: Available on Spotify!

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When I was gonna be your forever You were gonna be my wife But you went off to find better And I was learning all about life But I was what you wanted and you were what I needed And we could meet in between We were gonna be the greatest love story this town had ever seen

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Suppose I called you up tonight And told you that I loved you And suppose I said I wanna come back home And suppose I cried and said I think I finally learned my lesson And I'm tired of spending all my time alone If I told you that I realize you're all I ever wanted And it's killing me to be so far away Would you tell me that you love me too And would we cry together Or would you simply laugh at me and say...

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Let me guess, you miss me, you're sorry Too bad it's too little too late Don't make me say, don't make me say... I don't wanna be right this time But you made a fool of me And you're not gonna fool me twice It's almost like I... I told you so, I told you I let you know, if you let go Find someone else to hold you Just walk away, don't make me say The only words I owe you

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It had been more than a few months, and he still wasn’t used to her being back in town yet. Life had passed fairly aimlessly; everything had been so day to day before then. He hadn’t needed to worry about anything – save the occasional bit of really serious police work. But now Ronnie Peterson felt like he had to be on alert everywhere he went, on the very likely chance that he’d have to find a creative way to avoid her.

Seemed he still had a thing or two to learn about breaking up in a small town. Uh— being broken up with in a small town. He hadn’t had to worry about her since she went to college. Was almost definitely over her by now.

Except that wasn’t the case, was it?

And now he was just trying to get coffee before work and there she was, once again sitting in the diner. It made him hesitate, made him think twice. Maybe he could just wait and get to work. Maybe he could actually make it through this morning without a caffeine fix.

Except he was already out of his car and half way to the door – standing in the middle of the parking lot with his hands on his hips, staring at her through the window… and he could kick himself. Clearing his throat and closing his eyes, Ronnie focused back on the concreate, shaking his head. ��Okay. Just… get in, order coffee, get out.’ Heading for the entrance he reasoned with himself; Where else could she go? The previous owners of the house had left it in need of repair and TLC – and the old flower shop attached, once belonging to her mother, hadn’t been open for years. There was a lot of work to do, and that meant a lot of workmen in and out. All the needed planning and preparation on her part had to be done somewhere - and even with the frequency of visitors the diner got, it would still be a damn sight quieter than home would have been for her.

Fern greeted him warmly, as ever. She didn’t even need to ask his order – Ronnie never changed it. Sometimes he thought about it, but setting that in motion hadn’t quite occurred yet. It certainly wasn’t going to be today, given how occupied his mind currently was on… other things. It was almost impossible not to glance over to her – pouring over notebooks and documents, head propped up on one hand, pencil absentmindedly tapping the page as she tried to make sense of it all. She hadn’t noticed him yet, if she knew he was here Ronnie knew she’d be doing the same thing he was. Glancing quickly became staring, until Fern’s next question interrupted him. “You taking some for the station?” “Uh…” He had to fight to drag his own eyeline back to Fern as he answered, slower than he’d like to admit. “I mean, I didn’t think about it, but I guess I could call them…” “Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s pretty early, I mean they might not even be there, right?” “Y-Yeah… right…” Fern watched as, sensing he was no longer needed to answer her questions, Ronnie’s gaze wandered back to the woman sitting in the corner. Araya Monaghan had hardly aged a day since the times her and Ronnie had been high-school-smitten with each other – still looking like a sweet small town girl, despite her move to the big city more than just a few years back. She had returned to Centerville now, though. Fern almost rolled her eyes at him. She has observed Ronnie do this more than just once or twice over the past few weeks – how he would always immediately survey the diner to see if she was here, and then stare. Even if he was also fighting with himself; and Fern could tell Ronnie was most definitely fighting himself. It was about time she took things into her own hands.

“Didn’t you guys break up?” “Huh?” Concentration once again broken, Ronnie turned back, not entirely sure he’d heard that right. Or, maybe hoping he wouldn’t have to go through this yet again with someone in this town. “You broke up, right?” Oh yeah, he’d heard right. Unfortunately. “Oh. Yeah, that was…” Fern couldn’t help but smile knowingly as he went right back to staring at Araya, answer quiet, “a long while ago.” He was silently begging her to drop the conversation, but that wasn’t part of her plan, so Fern continued. “But you still like her.” Ronnie wasn’t sure that he liked the tone sounding more statement than question. He pretended to muse hard on it. Part of him still really hurt – part of him still twisted up seeing Araya back here after so long; like just after he’d got it together she had to move back just to wreck everything? She couldn’t get away with that. Not after breaking his heart. Not how she’d done it.

And yet… yes, he did look at her now and at least partially long for her back – if he was honest with himself (which, he didn’t want to be), Ronnie nearly always had. Therefore, when he responded with “Hmmm… well…” despite his trail off, he nodded; but it almost seemed absentminded, like he hadn’t quite admitted it yet. As his attention was still on her, this time Fern’s eyes flicked over too, “Well, she clearly still likes you a whole lot too.” They were almost as bad at each other for staring. The only reason it wasn’t happening right now was because she hadn’t looked up yet.

This, Ronnie knew. Despite Araya’s initial shock that he was still in town, she now looked at him in the way she used to. Which in all honestly twisted him up even more. He wasn’t about to admit this, and scoffed at the idea instead. “Well, she broke up with me.” Fern simply nodded, “Uh huh.” and then placed a cup in front of him. Not paper to take away, oh no, a proper cup and saucer. Then tipped her head in the direction they’d both been looking, “Now go on, stop staring and go talk to her.” Ronnie’s mouth opened, nearly in shock, pushing the cup back to the edge of the counter, “Fern, I’m taking out! I’m not staying!” She didn’t budge, instead lowering her voice to a semi-threatening whisper. “Don’t make me walk it over to her table!” She pointed daringly at him and Ronnie realised he wouldn’t be getting out of this in a hurry. This was not the morning he had planned. He swallowed hard, nodding in acceptance of his situation, before picking up the cup – shooting Fern a look just so she knew he wasn’t best pleased about this – and walked over to the back of the diner slowly.

At the corner table Araya was sitting at, this exchange had gone completely unnoticed. In fact, Ronnie could probably have snuck in and out no problem and been well into his shift, before she even looked up from the papers in front of her. Largely because she had done the same calculation about five times already and the answer was never the same, and never matched the breakdown sheet. She theorised that it would have to eventually - but now it was a case of when eventually was. What she didn’t fail to notice however, was someone heading cautiously in her direction, and once she’d caught the movement it caused enough of a distraction to make her look up. Though, his nearly 6’3” frame probably helped. Although, Araya couldn’t help but startle – because Ronnie Peterson was not who she would expect to be walking towards her if he was given any sort of choice in the matter. (Well… maybe once.) As he was about to confirm.

“Oh, hey!” “Hey.” It was blunter than she would have liked. He gestured to the cup in his hands, “Fern did this and I’m pretty sure would have refused me a takeout cup otherwise, so…” Araya pressed her lips together, nodding, trying to ignore her own disappointment and indicated to the seat in front of her, hoping it didn’t drip into her voice. “Care to join me?” She half expected him to say no, but Ronnie was always polite so she got a “Well, yeah…” As he slid into the booth, the cup chinked gently as he placed it down – finding space amongst the paperwork – and Araya was given a window of opportunity to study his face as he became interested in her notes. Dare she say he was even more handsome now than he was to her back then. “Watcha doing?”

When Ronnie glanced back at her, he equally ignored the way pink dusted her cheeks ever so slightly, the way she took a breath before she answered to steady herself. “Oh, uh… kinda budgeting… expenses… figuring it out as I go, but, not going so great.” Then he smiled in remembrance. That made things worse. And he knew it. “Math was never really your strongest suit.” She smiled back, chuckle soft, and nodded along, looking away from his eyes, “Yeah, you’re right.” “Want me to help?” He’d asked before he could stop himself.

Araya looked back at him, eager to accept, ready to beam and push her books and calculator across the table to him and start rattling off issues - exactly as she would have done in high school. But she stopped herself from looking too joyful, and instead cleared her throat before sliding everything to the side. “No, you know what, I can figure it out later. You’re sitting in front of me with a coffee, so the least I can do is… actually have a conversation with you. You’ll have plenty to do at work, you don’t need to also be doing mine.” Ronnie’s eyebrows raised with the shoulders of his shrug, “Oh well, if you… ever need any help.” “Oh, I know where to find you, Ronnie, trust me.” The pink became dark red, “I mean, not like- I- I know where the station is.” Although the smile he flashed was almost a smirk, “I’d hope you wouldn’t have forgotten where I live but, the station is a good start, yeah.” Her eyebrows furrowed, not willing to jump to conclusions, “…I, uh, know where your parents live.” Lived? Araya wasn’t sure if they still lived here, although that wouldn’t surprise her even if Ronnie’s presence did. “Yeah, I’m still on that side of town.” And Centerville was small enough for that to roughly mean the same place. Araya’s head tilted, it wasn’t a hard link to pick up, “Not my side of town.” “Well… no.” He said matter of fact. “Your parents still here?” She’d half expected him to have been long gone. Ronnie had never seemed much like a homebody, even when he hadn’t known what he wanted for his future. She’d figured he’d want to stay here even less after her. How wrong she could be. “Mhm.” “Oh.” Her grimace was easy to read – ‘what must they possibly think of me’ – he held his hand up to quickly rectify. “No, no, don’t worry – I never tried to get them to hate you.” This clearly didn’t help things, by the fact her face became pained – but it wasn’t like she wasn’t aware of what she deserved. Ronnie tried again, “Oh no, I-” but then he stopped, because, yeah actually he did hate Araya for what she did. At least back then. Maybe even still. And lying wasn’t the way to go, so it was probably best to just stop talking. He bit his lips together, “I’m sorry, that… was uncalled for.” “No, No I…” She crossed her arms on the table, rubbing her thumbs over the sleeves of her dress, “probably deserve that.” He gave another shrug, this one more apathetic, before taking a sip of coffee. Concluding it was cool enough to drink, Ronnie didn’t put the cup down. The faster he drank it, the faster he could leave… Araya watched him, not because she was waiting for him to say anything else – simply because she liked watching him. She could sit for hours in silence and do that. If he would let her – which, Ronnie certainly wouldn’t be doing any time soon. When he placed the cup down, however, it wasn’t empty. “You know, the coffee here really is the best. I don’t know how Fern does it. Truly something else.” Araya laughed at his musing, “Must be a secret ingredient.” He laughed too, “Must be something like that, huh?”

And that was the problem. It was so easy to be amicable. It was so easy to talk to her again. Like a needle slipping into a groove. Natural. Something they both wanted back, as if it was never gone. And it was like it was never gone. But it had gone – goodbye had been said more than once, and the last time they had seen each other (before, a few months ago, she turned up walking down the street in the middle of his patrol looking like a deer caught in headlights), they had both screamed things they wanted to take back.

Ronnie didn’t know what he wanted anymore. Friends wasn’t going to cut it. He couldn’t just ignore her, even with his best efforts. But he couldn’t let his feelings run away with this. What would happen if they did get back together? What if it all fell apart again? What if it was worse? He couldn’t take that. He couldn’t even consider the possibility.

That didn’t mean she wasn��t thinking the exact same thing he was. That didn’t mean Araya wasn’t brave enough to tentatively ask it. In moments like this when they were actually getting on – where maybe she’d get the answer she wished for. Nervously tucking her hair behind her left ear before she did, and yet still able to hold the steady gaze of his brown eyes. “Do you ever think about it?” All the time. “About what?” He played a convincing perplexed. “Don’t you wonder if… - What - this could be?” Despite his previous dedication to the truth – Ronnie had no choice but to outright lie, straightening himself. “God, no… I couldn’t bring myself to read the plot points for this. I don’t think I wanna know…” Araya’s eyebrows furrowed again, if any disappointment had even entered her thought stream it had quickly been washed away with confusion. “Plot points?” Ronnie nodded, “Yeah… for the fic?” Araya’s look of puzzlement turned to one of surprise, “Oh. I didn’t know you could just read those and find out what happens.” “Yeah. If I wanted further heartbreak I guess I might!” To stop himself from talking too much Ronnie turned back to his coffee, this time making sure to finish it. But at the look still on Araya’s face, found himself compelled to continue, “I mean there must be some, you wouldn’t write a fic without them, right? I mean--” on second thought, knowing this author…

She sat silent for a moment with her own thoughts, digesting what he was saying. Although, even when she hadn’t fully, Araya gained confidence in her understanding enough to be able to look back into his eyes. What she was hearing was – he didn’t want to not try. It was what happened after that worrying him. And no wonder. “You wouldn’t want to know how it ends?” What if it was like a fairytale? What if they got a happy ever after? That didn’t have to be just fantasy and her wishful thinking. Ronnie blinked, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, before he shrugged again, this time being the one to look away, fingers dancing around the rim of his coffee cup, “Well I didn’t exactly like how it ended last time – if I read it and it doesn’t end well, why would I even want to start anything?” “What if it doesn’t end this time?” There was a warmth to her words as she went back to leaning her head on her hand. Araya was teasing him, of course. It wasn’t really a serious question – she knew neither of them could handle it being a serious question right now. They needed time, they had had time sure – but they needed more. His head tilted, eyes still not meeting hers – but the look on his face let her know she had a point. Ronnie couldn’t argue with that, but STILL! “I don’t think I wanna take the chance to find out. Could be worse. Don’t want that. No, thank you.”

By the time he’d finished his eyes were focused back on hers, with intensity. As if his would be the final word. Araya would have let him have it too, would have nodded along; ‘fair enough’. She even went back to looking at her work, pencil returning to her hand - but then she realised what he’d said. She paused her writing and looked up at him, curious, a little hopeful… but trying not to look too interested – perhaps not wanting Ronnie to realise exact what he’d said just yet. “Wait… so you… are thinking of… starting something?” It wasn’t a stupid question. Even if it would seem to be – either way he answered would have felt correct to both of them. It wasn’t as if there weren’t inklings of chemistry, that had somehow never faded, but she knew how hesitant he was considering how much she had hurt him before. Walking away from someone saying you couldn’t handle a relationship and then ending up in one again less than two months later would do that to a person. Ronnie had gone from wanting her back; would do everything and anything to have her back to… ‘well screw it and screw her and I never want to see her again and I’m actually quite MAD at her truthfully.’, and back again enough times in the years since. His distance when she first arrived didn’t surprise her, even when it was so easy to warm up like this after a five minute conversation. Araya was just as surprised at herself… she didn’t expect to fall back in love with him so easily, and so soon. The wish for her old relationship back had almost been immediate. As much as she understood the situation, at this point it felt so much like dancing around it; they both still had feelings neither would admit for their own personal reasons and the rest of the town was just… waiting. Of that they were almost certain.

Despite this, despite thinking he would want the final word back, Ronnie didn’t answer her. Instead, he just sat up a little straighter. His eyebrows furrowed together and he frowned a little, breathing out deeply – in a way that said everything, but there was no verbal answer… Araya knew better than to push him, and right now he had no coffee and she had no thread of conversation to keep him here either. Ronnie should be getting up and leaving and going to work now, because what else was there to do? He knew this, and so did she and yet he was still just… sitting there.

Either way, she had work to do, and dragging her notebook back towards her, Araya knew she had to think of something quickly before Ronnie figured out nothing was keeping him in his seat. She wanted to keep this conversation flowing – while he wasn’t scowling at her like he’d wish she’d leave, or straight up ignoring her presence. It had been so long since she’d got him like this, and she liked his company – whether Ronnie was talking or not, she always had. “A-Actually…” She held on to the only thing she had left, “If you wouldn’t mind just taking me though this one calculation that won’t add up? It’s different every time, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” He studied her face for just a fraction too long, and without the immediate response she feared that she might lose him this time. Ronnie checked his watch - what was five more minutes? - before he shook his head, “Sure. What’s up? Let’s see what I can do!” Then she smiled, the way she always used to smile at him and a smile he hadn’t seen since she’d left. Ronnie was 90% sure he wouldn’t hear a damn word she was about to say, and Araya would have to repeat herself, but it’d be worth it. What would be five more, five more minutes?

Fern watched from the counter as Ronnie leaned over the table to listen to Araya better, taking the pencil gently from her hand to explain exactly where she was going wrong. It didn’t seem like two minutes since they’d been high school age doing this…

She smiled to herself knowingly, looking at the empty coffee cup and then back at the in-depth discussion – the joy on Araya’s face when it finally made sense and the way Ronnie laughed to. And this time he didn’t check his watch.

It might take a little time, but they would get there. And if that meant she had to keep pouring his coffee into a proper cup instead, she’d make as many as it took.

---

Thank you for reading! ✨

#Happy Birthday To Me #Ronnie Peterson #Officer Ronnie Peterson #The Dead Don't Die #Araya #This has about 10 theme songs already #GUYSSSS I had to put a 4th wall break in - I just couldn't /NOT/ do it.#I thought of 2 for this concept and this was one of them!#Officer Peterson #Linzi Writes

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ninjastormhawkkat · 10 months ago

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Meanwhile on the other side of Fair City in Woodview Elementary School, a…debated conversation was going on inside the principal’s office. Mouse was just sitting outside, staring at her feet as she kicked them aimlessly. She had turned off her super hearing. She was tired of hearing the mean and angry whispers of her classmates who were upset about not getting any pizza or lasagna for lunch. She didn’t want to hear the shouting match that was happening between her dad, the principal, the lunch lady, and the janitor. Mouse had a crestfallen expression as she tried to hold back some tears. She couldn’t help it. She wasn’t even trying to go anywhere near the cafeteria before lunch. Mouse had heard the frantic squeaks of another mouse in trouble in the cafeteria. She raced over to see a poor mouse caught in a mouse trap. Luckily the mouse wasn’t hurt too badly when she freed it. Mouse didn’t even realize the door to the back of the kitchen where all that delicious cheese was stored was even open. It wasn’t until her nose caught a whiff of that cheese that everything spiraled to her ending up once again outside the principal’s office for a mouse related incident. After a while the door opened and her dad stepped out with a grim expression along with Bob. Mouse could hear the lunch lady crying for some reason inside the principal’s office but she couldn’t check before her dad approached her. “Time to go Mouse.” Steven said in a tired and no nonsense tone. Mouse quietly nodded and took her dad’s hand and they headed out of the school. The car ride back home was silent and tense. None of the three passengers said anything at first. Finally Mouse spoke up. “So..how much trouble am I in this time?” Mouse asked in a timid and hesitant tone. “Big trouble.” Steven stated bluntly. He then let out a long sigh. “Mouse, you know I pack you four cheese wedges every day before school to prevent something like this.” Steven began scolding. “I know dad I’m sorry I wasn’t even planning to steal cheese this time. I heard a mouse cry for help after it got caught in a mouse trap. I was saving it and the door was left open and then the tantalizing cheese smell…” Mouse began rambling as she tried apologizing and explaining her actions. Steven’s face softened a bit. He knew his daughter was remorseful for her actions, heck she was trying to do a good deed which led to the incident. Steven knew it wasn’t her entire fault. It was that stupid and horrible parasitic brain attached to her head making her misbehave like this. An incident Steven knew all too well who to blame for. Steven leveled a side glare to the mouse brain that seemed to glow a bit in delight and taunting. He then pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I talked with your principal. For about a week you are going to be staying after school for an hour and 45 minutes helping the janitor clean up the art room and library as your punishment. Also until your punishment is done there will be no tv. Do you understand?” Steven explained. Mouse nodded, knowing it was not a great idea to protest her punishment. “Yes dad.” Mouse replied solemnly. Steven nodded back, he then gently laid a hand on his daughter’s head and ruffled her hair a bit. “Hey kiddo. You know I still love you even when you do bad things.” Steven exclaimed. Mouse looked up and saw a loving and warm gaze in her dad’s expression despite how tired and solemn he looked. “I know dad.” Mouse said with a small smile. Steven returned it with one of his own. Soon Chase and his dad arrived back on their street with no other issues. Steven sighed in relief as he now could avoid being called a clown. He decided to have a quick rest first before looking at his invention as his feet were killing him. The two individuals came to the front entrance of their house. “Well everything seems okay.” Chase commented. Steven nodded. “Yeah everything here seems fine…though the door is open.” Steven commented. Chase also noticed the door was now slightly ajar. @wordgirlnextgen

Next gen meets mbgau rp Steven was happily whistling to himself as he was carrying the laundry basket upstairs. He liked to enjoy doing the simple, mundane, tasks of everyday life. It was something he valued and felt as a reprieve to his chaotic and suffering past. As Steven passed the bedroom of his eldest child Chase, his ears caught the sound of verbal grunting and shouting. Steven paused, a confused and worried expression now plastered on his once serene face. He stopped whistling to try and hear what was going on. "Stupid...dumb...no way...Augh! Son of a..." was all that Steven could make out. The man clearly recognized his son's voice. Steven knocked on the door gently but also with some firmness. "Chase is everything okay?" Steven called out. There was silence and faint sounds of shuffling before the door opened. Steven looked up to see his 18 year old son Chase who now was even taller than his father due to his alien genetics. Steven took mental note how puberty also affected his son's physical appearance somewhat as Chase now exhibited some of...Alex's features. Steven internally shook his head. He did not want to go on that emotional tangent right now. By the look on his son's face, Chase was clearly frustrated and upset about something, though due to his inherited Boxleitner stubbornness, it didn't seem like he was ready to come clean about his issues yet. "Oh hey dad. Uh yeah everything is fine just working on something." Chase admitted to his father. "Oh what are you working on?" Steven genuinely asked. He wondered if it had to do anything with Chase leaving for college soon. Once again, Chase seemed hesitant to give a straight answer, opting to scratch the back of his head. After a few moments of silence Chase finally opened up. "Well actually I might need some advice for something. Since I'm 18 now, I decided to change my hero name since Amazo Lad won't fit anymore. Could you help me with that dad?" Chase hesitantly asked his father. Steven beamed. "Of course I can help you son. I'm sure we can find a new hero name for you." Steven replied. He set down the laundry basket and followed his son to his desk. Steven could see there were a lot of pieces of paper tossed about. Some were crumpled, some had a lot of pencil scratches on them. Steven could tell his son had put a lot of effort into this name change. "So do you have any ideas for what you want to be called yet?" Steven asked Chase.

"that's the tough part...I don't want to let go of the name fully." Chase admits. It's was painful to guess why. Infact Steven knew exactly why. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder giving him a comforting squeeze. Steven thought for a moment. "Well we can think of something similar to Amazo..." Not Amazo guy. But Amazo something... He thought.

Something that was still connected to the roots whilst being it own thing.

He held his chin as he pondered. Walking deeper into the room.

"will tell you what we can take this and try pairing it up with some qualities about yourself. " He picked up a few of his son's crumpled up failed attempts to take a look over at them.

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technowoah · 3 years ago

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Wait imagine a fic where Jack and the reader are long distance or something and when Tubbo and Tommy are doing the man hunt irl the reader surprises Jack.

That would be cute I think 🤔

Just One Livestream

You surprise Jack with a spontaneous visit to the UK, little did you know that they were livestreaming.

- Jack Manifold x gen neutral!reader

- Anon Requested!

⚠︎ swearing, fluff!, not proofread

an// I hope yall enjoy! Much love! And sorry it came out so late I have no inspiration rn but imma get it done! Also I used the difference of American hours to London hours so sorry of

Navigation!

"Love, why are you up early?" Jack asked through the phone.

You two were facetiming eachother as he propped his phone up on his dashboard while he started to drive. It was around 1 am for you and 6 am for Jack. Sadly you two were in a long distance relationship. You had met Jack when you were on a college trip to London to study abroad for 3 weeks. You were sad that you had to leave your home country, but this was a opportunity you couldn't oppose.

During this trip you had found a cafe that you would go to often. The first time you sat at the cafe alone you always noticed it was only you and this other man in the cafe. He was always on his computer and sat by a window, he always came early too, even earlier than you. As the days went on you continued to see him around more and he seemed to notice you as well. You made a note to yourself to always try and show up a tad bit earlier to the cafe to stay around the same time as he did.

You two got to know eachother throughout the three weeks you had to stay in London. The small nods became hellos, and the hellos turned into full on conversation by the window. He had told you his name was Jack Manifold and was kind of surprised when you didn't immediately know who he was. To him it was refreshing not to be immediately noticed based on his appearance. You both had exchanged numbers one day and after each morning you two would text non stop even during your classes. Luckily trying to get to know Jack changed your sleep schedule and because of that you always made it to class on time.

Jack was such an amazing guy to you, but during the first week you had developed a small crush on the man, and he had developed a crush on you too. The second week you two had ventured out onto different territory than the cafe. Jack started to call those small outings after class, dates and you weren't opposed to the dates at all you loved them. The second and third week were mostly dates and the night before you left he asked to be your boyfriend and of course you accepted not knowing the pain of a long distance relationship.

You had to answer his question on why you were up so early. "Yeah- Um, Im up because of you." You chuckled. "You changed my sleep schedule ever since I met you."

"Well you're welcome, because before me I heard you were missing classes." Jack payed attention to the road but still talked to you.

"Because I told you! And I am grateful, but there is nothing to do at one am here." You sighed while you started to walk around your room as you lied to him.

Jack was talking to you while you did a clean sweep around your house to check if you had everything for your trip.

Two weeks ago you had decided to pack your bags and take a trip back to London. Right now your flight will be leaving early in the morning and that's why you are up so early.

You wanted to surprise Jack instead of straight up telling him that you will be in the country. You missed him dearly, and this will be a great way to spend time together instead of seeing eachother across a screen. One of you had to make that sacrafice and that would be you.

While Jack continued to talk you checked everywhere to make sure you arent leaving anything behind.

"What are you doing, darling?" Jack asked and that snapped you out of your trance. "Are you even listening to me? Im hurt." Jack faked being hurt.

You smiled at him and shook your head. "Im sorry I wasn't listening. What were you saying?"

"I was saying, when you were ignoring me, that I'm going to the cafe right now and that we should plan a trip soon. I miss you." Jack confessed and you awed.

"I miss you too Jack! I hopw we can see each other soon." You tried to contain your smile as you hid your surprise.

"Me too."

Your plane finally landed as you let out a sigh of relief. You had collected all of your shit fast so you could finally get off of that horrible plane. Every stereotypical airplane scene happened to you in the hours you were on that plane. You had a child crying behind you with a mother who couldn't keep that child calm, you were sat next to a man who snored the whole ride here and you just felt cramped.

Sadly you couldn't return any of Jack's messages or calls that you saw when you were in the airplane terminal. You tried calling him twice but they both went to voicemail while you rolled your bag through the huge building. Finding yourself outside you ordered an Uber and once you did that your phone began to ring showing Jack's name and picture of you two together on the screen.

You quickly answered the phone. "Hey!"

"Hi!" Jack chuckled. "I called like, 17 times!"

"I know! Im sorry. I was busy." You weren't lying getting a plane and basically leaving early in the morning and arriving in the afternoon in London. "So, what are you doing today?"

"I am hanging out with Tommy and Tubbo at the park! Im picking them up now!" Jack responded and you heard him close his car door.

"Which park?" You asked quickly as you saw your Uber arrive.

Jack started to laugh. "Uh I'll text you the park I guess. Why would you want to know?"

"No reason! I just want to make sure you are safe. Dont make me call 999." You tried to joke around and take the attention off of your question.

"I cant believe you still remember 999." Jack laughed.

"I still do!" You said as you got inside your Uber and gave the driver the directions to your hotel forgetting that Jack was on the other line.

"Wait hotel?" Jack questioned through the phone.

"Hotel? What are you talking about?" You acted oblivious.

"I- I thought you were talking about a hotel." Jack hesitated.

"No!" You tried to cover up your mistake.

"Well Im going to pick up Tommy soon. I'll talk to you later okay? Answer my calls this time!" Jack chuckled.

"I definitely will!"

You had recived the name of the park you were surprising Jack at. You began to walk around the parking lot after you got dropped off and noticed his car sitting there. There were tons of people at the park today and you didn't know where he would be. As you walked on the dirt trails of the park your thoughts took over, what if you made a mistake and should've told Jack that you were here in London and wanted to meet up at the cafe?

You looked at people as they passed by you ok the trail wishing that you had that energy that you had before, thinking that you would find Jack easily when in reality you were in a busy part of the park and he could be anywhere.

When you thought all hope was lost you heard some loud voices on the trail to your right. You were already walking aimlessly through the park and your first instinct was to go left and walk away from the loud voices, but then you heard something.

"Tommy this was a bad idea!"

"I dont think it was!"

You stood in the "intersection" of the dirt trails thinking that you heard those voices right. You rounded the corner and followed right to see Tommy and Jack doubled over, out of breath while Tubbo was still standing up breathing heavily. There were far away from you, but not far away that you couldn't see them clearly.

You began to call out to them. "Tommy! Jack! Tub-"

They quickly turned around and took off running. Confused on why they were doing that you took off running after them trying to tell them to stop. They were yelling and you were yelling and getting weird glances from stangers, and you dont blame them. You're chasing after your boyfriend and his two friends in a quiet public park. You continued to hear their groans of tiredness and their speed started to slow down.

"Jack! Tommy! Wait up!" You yelled out of breath as you slowed down as well.

"We give up! We give up!" Tubbo yelled and came to a complete stop while trying to catch his breath. He turned around to finally face you. "Y/N?!"

"Wait what?!"

"You're here?!" Jack ran up to you and gave you a bone crushing hug, rocking you two back and forth.

"I am! And Im our of breath thanks to you three." You said while still hugging Jack.

"M'sorry I thought you were a fan and I took off and they followed suit I guess." Tommy rubbed his forehead.

"A fan?" You questioned and Tommy and Tubbo lifted their phones up gesturing that they were recording.

"We're doing manhunt in real life, darling." Jack kissed your temple and wrapped his arn around your waist, holding you tight.

"Next time look before you run okay." You smiled still out of breath while kissing Jack's cheek.

"Enough with the PDA!" Tubbo yelled still recording you two.

"We havent even started!" Jack yelled back giving you a huge hug. Jack closed the distance between you two and gave you a passionate kiss on the lips while the two boys groaned in disgust.

"I think that's enough streaming for today boys." Tommy sighed.

"Sorry again, love. That won't happen again."

You and Jack walked hand in hand down the streets of London. People had to walk around you two because you were basically taking up the whole sidewalk and you weren't letting go of his hand anytime soon.

"It better not! I dont want to run after you again." You smiled as you bumped shoulders.

"And you wont have to!" He smiled back at you as you two continued to walk and people dodged the two of you.

"Have you ever thought of moving here?" Jack asked out of nowhere.

"I have actually! On the plane ride here I thought of leaving and moving to London." You thought about it constantly. It was nice being close to Jack and it was a major risk.

"Well wherever you're ready, I'll be here for you." Jack kissed your cheek. "And I wont run away when you come here!"

You two finally made it to your destination which was the cafe you two met at. It was busy at this time because it was the middle of the day and not the beginning. You two entered and took your seats by the window where you two usually sat.

"I love you. I missed this." Jack said.

"I love you too! And of course I missed this. Maybe you can show me more places around London and convince me to stay longer." You gave him a proposal.

"Longer than what?" Jack asked.

"Four weeks." You grinned.

Jack grabbed both of your hands and kissed the back of them. "Hell yeah. I get you for more than four weeks?!"

"That's if you show me places to stay longer." You teased.

"Okay babe. You like ferris wheels?"

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hpimaginesandblurbs · 3 years ago

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may you make hermione x fem reader x harry smut where the girls are both hard dom and punishing harry. like, reader eating out hermione in front of harry? degrade him, spank him with a paddle, making him ride hermione's thigh while tying his hands? literally they both rail harry and play with each other in every way 😻

pairing(s): harry potter x hermione granger x reader

warning(s): 18+, threesome, dom/sub roles, dom!reader, dom!hermione, sub!harry, mentions of spanking/paddling, bondage, oral (female receiving), thigh riding, slight anal play, voyeurism(?)

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is my first time writing anything with two girls so i hope you enjoy! if you want to request anything else with the girls, please feel free! i'm bi so it really is no hardship lol. happy pride month btw to all my lovely lbgtqia+ followers and readers!

“Look at him whining, so pathetic,” Hermione mused from where she laid naked on the bed, waiting for you to join her.

You looked down at Harry, who you had just tied to a chair. His hands were bound behind his back, his legs tied down to the legs, and his chest strapped to the back. He had no relief for his aching cock that hung heavy between his thighs. Or his aching ass that you and Hermione had just had the pleasure in turning red.

You rounded the chair until you were in front of him before you grabbed a handful of his unruly black hair and tugged so he had no choice but to look at you.

“What are you whining about, hm? Is it that sore arse of yours? Because you know you deserved that. Or do you just want to get off that badly like some desperate little whore?” You asked, a smirk coming to your face as he blushed just as scarlet as his house colors.

“Both, Miss,” he forced himself to respond, knowing he would only make it worse for himself if he didn’t answer.

Not that your little masochist wouldn’t love a little more torture. You and Hermione always made it worth it in the end.

“That’s what I thought,” you said, releasing his hair in an aggressive push, knocking him back against the hard chair. He whined at the contact, and you knew the movement put unwanted pressure on his ass. “You’re lucky you’ve been good so far. You should be grateful I’m even letting you stay in the room. All you have to do now is be a good boy and watch me take care of ‘Mione and maybe I’ll let you get off. Try not to make too much noise,” you taunted before turning on your heel and making your way to the bed, sure to swing your hips just enough to torture him.

It was short work getting Hermione in the position you needed her in, exposed to Harry while in the perfect position for you to pleasure her.

You let him look at her exposed cunt for a moment before your fingers were on her and in her, a gasp of pleasure falling from her lips.

“This could be you right now, touching her and making her cum. But you just had to be a naughty little boy who couldn’t keep it in his pants,” you spoke directly to Harry, not missing a beat with your fingers. What you said was in reference to the rule he broke, no touching himself without your or Hermione’s permission. It was the whole reason he was being punished in the first place.

“Please,” he begged in a breathless whine, his eyes clouded with arousal and his chest heaving as he tried to keep himself calm.

You didn’t answer him, just simply turned your full attention now to Hermione who was basking in the pleasure your fingers were giving her. You watched her for a moment, in awe of how lucky you were to have two of the most beautiful people you knew under your command. It was intoxicating and arousing all at once.

Slowly, you kissed your way down her soft thighs, relishing in the way she shuddered in anticipation. When your tongue connected with her clit, you heard twin moans come from the pair of Gryffindors and you were sure you were dripping onto the bed by now.

You worked her effortlessly. With practice came perfection and you knew this way Hermione’s favorite way to get off, so both you and Harry had had plenty of practice. You felt her warm walls grip your fingers as you worked her closer and closer to her release until she let out a cry of your name and spasmed against your face, the wetness of her climax evident on your lips and chin when you pulled away.

You moved your body to kiss her, letting her taste herself off of you in a heated kiss. Her hands trailed your body, already desperate to return the favor but you pulled yourself away before he could get too far.

“I feel like we’ve been awfully neglectful of someone,” you said quietly, but just loud enough for Harry to hear.

“He’s been quiet,” she commented casually, speaking as if he wasn’t even there.

You made a noise of agreement before you continued the little charade. “Maybe he’s finally learning his lesson.”

“Doubt such a pathetic whore could ever learn his lesson,” she teased with a smirk.

It was then he finally made a noise, a high pitched whine as he listened to the two of you speak so openly about him. Both of your heads snapped towards him, and he was watching the both of you with a feral, lustful gaze that made your head spin.

When you took stock of his body, you couldn’t help but grind yourself down on Hermione’s thigh just to ease the pressure you felt between your legs. His face and chest were flushed a pretty shade of pink, a stark contrast to his angry, red cock that was jutting up between his legs. He was leaking an absurd amount of precum, probably of the edge of cumming untouched if you had to guess.

He was beautiful when he submitted like this.

“Have you learned your lesson yet?” You asked, staring at him intently.

“Yes, yes, please, Miss. I learned my lesson. Please. Just want to touch you. Anything. Please,” he begged aimlessly now that he had the chance to speak, his hips thrusting against the air pointlessly in search of any friction. A harsh breeze would probably send him over the edge right now.

“Shh,” you cooed as you made your way over to him, careful only to touch his face when you approached. “You’ve been good. I’m going to untie you now and you’re going to go sit on ‘Mione’s thigh and hump your little mind away. Does that sound fair?” You asked, slowly releasing him from his bonds as you spoke.

“I won’t last,” he whined quietly, sounding beautifully pitiful.

You couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. “It’s cute that you really think we’ll be done with you that easy,” you told him as you coaxed him up from his chair and watched him make his way over to Hermione, his hands still tied behind his back.

You did what you could to help him onto the bed, but even your touch seemed to affect him too much.

When his cock touched the smooth skin on Hermione’s leg, he let out a beautiful moan that had you and Hermione smiling at each other over his shoulder.

“Show us how bad you want it. Show me how bad a little slut like you wants to cum,” Hermione instructed, knowing full well he wouldn’t last long against her body.

With his head buried in Hermione’s curls, he began to rut against her slowly, doing everything in his power to keep his climax at bay for as long as possible. Her hands stayed gentle on his hips, not guiding him but just a reminder that she was there.

From behind, his entire ass was exposed to you and you knew you had to take advantage of it.

Slowly, your hand smoothed circles over his now bruising skin until your fingers were in the perfect position to swirl around his tight hole. He shuddered and groaned at the feeling, but continued in his valiant effort.

When one of your fingers slipped in, he was now rocking back onto your fingers and forward against Hermione’s skin. He rocked one, two, three more times until he was cumming with a cry and a full body spasm, his walls tight around your finger.

You both let him breathe through it for a moment before two sets of hands were on him again.

With your chest pressed against his back, you leaned down closely to whisper in his ear.

“How about you lay down and take care of me now? Show me what that pretty mouth is good for.”

And you relished in the way his body eagerly shivered against yours.

#harry potter #harry james potter #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #harry potter blurb #harry potter drabble #harry x hermione #hemione granger #hermione granger smut #hermione granger imagine #hermione granger blurb

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nctsworld · 4 years ago

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the yuletide boyfriend

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:

“WISHLIST: -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side, ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time.

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping.

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile. “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

2K notes · View notes

sparkypantaloons · 3 years ago

Text

A Storm

“I promise you.” Bruce had said. “If you come home, I will keep you safe. I will keep them safe. I will keep us whole. I promise.”

Tim is taken. Each of his family react differently.

There’s a rushing in Tim’s ears. Like a waterfall. It’s so loud he can’t see. Can that happen? Can noise affect sight? He doesn’t know.

There’s a hand on his back. Gentle, but firm. He thinks maybe someone is talking to him, but he can’t see. He can’t see anything over the rushing in his ears.

No, that’s not right. He needs to start again. Try again. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, covers his ears, takes a deep breath.

“Tim?” Is it Bruce? Someone’s hands are on Tim’s arms, pulling his hands from his head. The person in front of him is stooping slightly, so they can look him in the eye. “Can you hear me?”

“'m fine.” Tim says. But his eyes can’t focus, it’s too loud in here. “I just need, I… just need t’sleep.” He grimaces, the noise too bright for his eyes.

There’s more sound then. Voices he thinks, but he’s not sure. He can’t see who they belong to. Then there’s a hand around his ankle, gripping him roughly. He flinches in the hold, starts to struggle as his shoes are removed. Then his socks. What is going on?

His feet? What about his feet? He tries to speak, but it’s so loud in here, he can’t form the words. A forehead presses against his, green eyes bore into his own. Jason?

Hands hold his feet to the floor, press down. More talking. It could be shouting now.

The hands let go of his feet. Move to his face. “Your feet, Timmy. Concentrate on your feet.”

Tim opens his eyes. Jason is still there, his bright green eyes, searching and insistent. “'m home?” Tim mumbles.

“Concentrate on your feet, Timmy. What can you feel?”

Tim closes his eyes again. His feet. He can feel… wood. Wooden floor. Wooden floorboards and the thin gaps between them. The Manor floor. The Manor.

“Yeah, Timmy.” Jason says. His hands move from Tim’s face, pull the teenager into a bear hug. “You’re home. You’re home.”

Leslie pushes her glasses back up her nose. Lets out a sigh. “It’s just going to take time, Bruce.” She says. She’s firm, as always. But there’s a softness in her eyes. A sadness. “Like all things.”

Bruce doesn’t speak. Just rubs his face with his hands. Hangs his head.

“Why is he so disorientated?” Dick asks. His right hand is still bandaged up, swollen, but it’s no longer bleeding through.

Jason sucks his teeth from where he’s leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. Leslie and Dick both ignore him.

“Sensory deprivation, especially for so long-- it can take a little while to recover.” Leslie is matter of fact. There’s no point mincing her words. “You have to take it slow.”

“Touch is best to start with.” Jason says, pushing himself off the wall. “It’s grounding.”

Dick, Leslie and Bruce look over at him. He shrugs. “It worked for me.”

A pained look crosses Dick’s face. Leslie interrupts before he can speak. “Let Tim lead, let him set the pace.” Her words hang in the air. “It’ll take time. But he’s strong.” She says. “He’ll pull through.”

Dick wakes up in a sweat, breathless. His right hand is throbbing. He tries to flex his fingers, flinches as his broken knuckles protest. It’s not the worst injury he’s ever had. Not by far. But the way he got it…

He shakes his head, tries to dislodge the memory of a shattered eye-socket, a dislocated jaw, a cracked skull. Tries to shed the jarring realisation that he broke his hand on a man’s face. Tries to make himself at least feel a sense of responsibility for the damage done. He doesn’t.

He makes his way to the kitchen, pads barefoot through the Manor. He pulls an ice-pack out of the freezer, holds it on his aching fist. The cold seeps into his joints, consumes the burn of displaced bone and absent guilt. He feels calmer.

Touch is grounding, Jason had said. Dick doesn’t want to think about how the younger man, his younger brother, knew that. Doesn’t want to know which one of a lifetime of traumatic experiences had taught him that little gem. But he can’t dispute it. The touch of the cold helps.

He makes his way back upstairs. Turns left, instead of right. To Tim’s room.

The door is pulled to. The most Alfred would allow. Bruce had been adamant about staying by Tim’s side, so had Jason, so had Dick. Alfred had refused all of them.

“Wayne Manor is the safest, most secure building on the eastern seaboard, if not the entire continent. None of you will do Master Timothy any good if you don’t get some sleep. He will be safe, in the meantime.”

Bruce had tried to protest, Jason had made threats, all but hissed at Alfred’s suggestion. The older man hadn’t budged. “I will stay with Master Timothy. In case he wakes.”

He wasn’t wrong. They needed rest, all of them. The search had been… long. Too long. Desperate, and increasingly frantic with each passing hour. And there had been so many hours.

He swallows down a memory. Of the howl that felt like it had been ripped out of his soul when they found Tim. Dick hadn’t even realised the noise had come from his own mouth, didn’t notice the tears of rage on his own face, as he took his hands to the men holding Tim captive. Broke his hands on the men who had taken his brilliant, darling brother. Locked him in the dark, alone, for too, too long.

Dick hovers outside Tim’s door. Holds his ear to the wood. He can’t hear anything over his own breathing, his own heartbeat.

“Just open it, Dickhead.” It’s Jason. He's dressed in a spare pair of Bruce’s pyjamas. Despite his size they're somehow still too big for him. It makes him look young. Too young. Dick stares at him for a moment before doing as he says.

The pair of them fill the doorway. Wait as their eyes adjust to the light in the room. Gloomy shadows fall in through the window; the blinds have been left open. Dick’s eyes scan the bed but his ears hear Jason’s breathing hitch. He feels the younger man go rigid beside him, knows his own body has responded the same. Because Tim is gone. Again.

Panic forces itself into what little space is between them, and Dick is only vaguely aware that Jason is gripping his wrist. Holding him too tightly, clinging onto him as though he’s scared one of them will disappear too.

A small cough brings them back to their senses. Alfred. The older man is sat in the corner of the room, by the window. A patient vigil in the dark. He nods to the far side of the bed.

Jason all but drags Dick with him as he marches into the room. They stop just past the bed. Tim is asleep on the floor. He’s curled into a ball, a single sheet held tight over his head. Dick only knows it’s him from the tuft of hair that’s sticking out.

He feels Jason let go of his wrist. The younger man stumbles backwards. He nods to Alfred then leaves the room, gone as quick as he entered.

Dick watches him go, a new worry blooming in his chest. He looks at Alfred, and the older man shakes his head sadly.

Jason is in his old room. His old en-suite more accurately. His knees protest against the tile as he wretches into the toilet.

I am safe, I am warm, I am whole.

He repeats the words in his mind like a mantra. Tries to control his breathing. He fails. Another wave of nausea has him wretching again. Acid burning its way up his throat.

A hand presses to his back and he flinches. He hadn’t heard anyone come in. Bruce places a glass of water on the floor beside him, pushes his hair back from his face.

Jason wipes his mouth on his sleeve, takes a shaky sip of water. Bruce rubs circles on his back.“Don’t.” Jason croaks, and he hates himself when the warmth of the hand is removed. He looks up at Bruce. “You promised you’d keep them safe.” He says, and he can’t keep the hurt out of his voice. Can’t keep the tears from his eyes. “You promised.”

“I know.” Bruce says. He pulls the younger man into a hug, holds him tight against his chest. “I’m sorry.” His son’s tears soak through his shirt.

Jason doesn’t know how long they sit there. Tangled limbs on the cold, hard tiles of the bathroom floor. Only knows that he needs Bruce to let go. He pulls himself out of his father’s arms, pushes himself to his feet. He needs to brush his teeth.

Bruce sits on the floor behind him, as Jason scrubs the bile and acid from his mouth. He presses too hard with the toothbrush, can taste the copper of blood against mint. But the dig of the bristles in the soft flesh of his gums is grounding. Reminds him he’s still alive.

I am safe, I am warm, I am whole.

Jason can remember sleeping on the floor. He’s slept on so many of them. The dingy corner of their apartment growing up, when all they could afford was a single mattress and Willis refused to let him share. The cardboard box by one of the subway vents behind the old Monarch Theatre. The floor of this very bedroom, the bed too soft for him to sleep in, threatening to drown him as soon as he fell asleep. Then the streets again, when he had wandered aimlessly after his death.

He can remember the dark too. Of being locked in a closet and forgotten for days at a time, when his infant crying became too much for Willis. Of his eyes swollen shut as the Joker beat the life out of him. Of his coffin, as he lay there screaming for Bruce to save him.

Jason’s life was a short but terrible history of hard floors and dark rooms and Tim’s was never meant to be like that.

They’d found him in all but a box, eight feet by eight feet by eight feet. There were no windows, the door had been soldered shut. He was being fed once a day. Some bread and water slid through a hatch in the wall, and a bucket too. Swapped out every 24 hours. Nobody ever spoke to him, nobody ever asked anything of him. No-one ever demanded anything from them either, neither The Bats, nor The Waynes.

He spits into the sink. Toothpaste pink with blood. He rinses his mouth. Splashes his face. Takes a deep breath.

They just took him and kept him. Because they could.

Jason had known people like that too, once. If he clings to it, it’s the only thought that makes him grateful Tim has been left alone for so long. Even as it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Coming home, coming back to his family had been as painful and awful as clawing himself out of his own grave. An endless fight against the pit and its madness, that drove him to hurt the people he loved. An ongoing battle against the deep, deep wound in his heart that The Joker still lived. And a terrifying, haunting fear that he would lose them again. That after all they had been through, after he finally got his family back, they would be taken from him and he would be alone once more.

“I promise you.” Bruce had said. “If you come home, I will keep you safe. I will keep them safe. I will keep us whole. I promise.”

Jason turns away from the sink. Walks back into his room. Leaves Bruce sat on the cold, tiled floor.

Eventually Bruce pulls himself to his feet. Jason’s room is empty when he passes through. He doesn’t allow himself to wonder where he might have gone. Of all the broken promises he has made to Jason, he knows this one has hurt his son the most. That Jason’s single biggest fear is losing the family he has so desperately longed for, both of his lives. That Jason would rather never love at all, than love and lose it all over again. This time had been too close. For Jason. For all of them.

It had taken them too long to get a lead on where Tim was being held. Far too long. And even then, they couldn’t confirm an exact location. They’d had no choice but to split up. Cass, and Damian had joined the Titans on the West Coast. Dick and Jason had come with him on the East.

He pulls out his phone, checks on the location of Cass and Damian for the nineteenth time that night. They’re making steady progress. Will be in Gotham before sunrise. His arms ache with a desperate need to hold them, know that they are safe. To have the physical proof, that all his children are alive and breathing, in his hands.

It had taken him a long time to let go of Tim once they found him. To pass his sweet, brilliant boy over to Leslie, so she could check him over. Confirm he was okay.

Tim was older now than Jason had been when he… Tim was older, but he had still felt just as small and young and broken, when Bruce had lifted him out of that box they’d kept him in. Out of the darkness. His body weak and trembling.

It had been Tim who had been taken, but Bruce had looked at the body in his arms and seen Robin, limbs twisted and broken. Seen Nightwing, lips blue and heart stopped by a hand held to his face. Seen another Robin, sword run through him, splitting his battered body almost in two. Seen Red Robin, riddled with bullet holes, blood running out of every one. He had held Tim and seen everyone of his children dead in his arms. An endless cacophony of death.

He reaches Tim’s room. Stands in the doorway and hopes that Alfred can’t see him in the darkness. He tries to remember back to when he took Dick in. Tries to recall what, in the name of all the Gods, had possessed him to allow his child, his children, out into the night with him. Tries to remember how he reached the conclusion that he could risk their single precious lives for his own crusade. How he could risk their safety for a single second.

He steps into the room. Hears Alfred sigh from his seat by the window.

“Don’t ask me to leave.” Bruce croaks out. His throat is tight, trying to hold a tidal wave of emotion at bay. “Don’t.”

Alfred stands. “Of course not.” He says softly, and he gestures to where Tim is sleeping on the floor. “Did you get any sleep?” He asks.

Bruce doesn’t respond. Just stares down at Tim, eighteen but looking for all the world like the ten year old who had shown up on Bruce’s doorstep all those years ago. The sheet is twisted round his limbs, his face screwed into a frown.

“Why is he on the floor?” Bruce asks. Though he has a good idea already.

Alfred takes a steadying breath. “He’s been…” He pauses. “He’s been sleeping on the floor so long, it’s what he’s used to n—“ He cuts himself off abruptly, turns to the window away from Bruce.

Bruce feels a burn in his throat. Knows that Alfred is fighting down the same tears that he is. He places a hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “I’ll stay with him now. Get some rest.”

Alfred nods. Places a hand over Bruce’s but doesn’t look at him. “And you, Bruce.” He says and he leaves. Pulls the door closed gently behind him.

Bruce turns back to Tim. His darling boy. He kneels down, gently detangles the sheets from his son’s legs. Tim doesn’t stir. Bruce lies down next to him, lays the sheet over them both.

Touch is grounding. Jason had said. And it’s all Bruce can do not to pull Tim into his arms and never let go. But Leslie had said baby steps. So instead he settles for running his fingers through Tim’s hair and holding his face in his hands. Moves his head closer so he can feel the soft rise and fall of Tim’s breath.

This would have to do, for now.

#batfic #batfamily fanfic #red hood #red robin #nightwing #tim drake #jason todd #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #bruce wayne #batdad #spbfic

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t0shii · 4 years ago

Text

pretending you're upset to get their attention

matsukawa issei, oikawa toru, suma rintaro x gn!r

!warnings! none/ lightly proofread

MATTSUKAWA ISSEI.

you sat in the living room, scrolling aimlessly through your phone while a random show played in the background until you heard the click of a door, meaning issei was FINALLY awake, thinking quickly of a plan, you threw a pout on your face and crossed your arms over your chest.

you scrunched your nose as he walked passed you, dammit guess im gonna have to take this a step further, you thought. so you added in a small sniffle, almost cracking a grin when you saw your boyfriend snap his head around from the corner of your eye. "baby? is everything okay?" he asks softly, his voice was a little hoarse and when you looked up at him his messy hair almost made you smile. you shook your head "no" as he walked over to your sitting position.

you choked out a dry sob praying your boyfriend didn't see through you."what's wrong babygirl?" his voice was so soft it was almost unrecognizable, he rarely talked to you like this. you looked down and shrugged your shoulders mumbling a "i dunno, issei" while he wrapped his arms around you and stroked the back of your head with his big hand. "oh baby, is there anything i can do for you?" you could practically feel the worry in his voice and you felt a little guilty. "just hold me please?" you ask, voice a little whiny so he has no choice but to say yes.

"of course baby. if this is because i took a nap without you im sorry, i did ask if you wanted to join but you said no so i thought it was okay." the way he was talking so cautiously and gentle caused you to let out a soft giggle, he immediately removed himself from the embrace he had you in."what's this? did you lie?" he had a big frown on his face and his eyebrows were furrowed so deep he looked like an old man he looked angry at you, guilt immediately crept up your chest and your heart started beating fast, is he mad at me? you thought.

"i-it was just a prank issei! i didn't mean to make you angry. i-im so sorry!" you explain, causing him to burst out in laughter, "i got youuuuu" you hummed a big grin on his face, "you can't trick me, princess" he said, tapping your nose with his pointer finger. "that pout you were wearing was pretty convincing though!" "you're mean, i thought i actually made you mad! your face was scary" you yell, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, "ohhh i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to scare you! but if you wanted my attention you should have just asked from the beginning."

OIKAWA TOORU.

you had never had a problem with your boyfriends fangirls, infact, most of them were all really sweet to you and respected your relationship with tooru!you had been in the car while tooru got the two of you coffee, a few fans coming up to him while he was in line. you could clearly see them making conversation, you smirked mischievously when the light bulb above your head went off, perfect you giggled to yourself.

when you saw him open the coffee shop door you mentally prepared yourself for your prank. as he opened the drivers side door, your knees turned to point towards the passenger side door, you crossed your arms and looked out the window. immediately he knew something was up. "i'm back baby! sorry it took so long, they were kinda busy." he explained, climbing into the car. he held out your order to you which you carefully took from his hand and looked out the window again. he looked at you confused, "is everything okay, princess?" he asks cautiously, you only nodded silently, refusing to look his way. he let an airy "okay" then started the car.

he wanted to rest his hand on your knee like he always did but he figured you were upset at him for something so he decided against it, a small frown forming on his lips. the car ride was silent except for the occasional dramatic sigh from your lips. he looked over at you to make sure you were okay at every red light and traced the whole day back to try and figure out the cause of your sudden change in behavior. when you finally got home, you opened the car door as soon as he put the car in park, you decided against slamming the car door behind you because you know he hates it. you walked quickly up to your shared apartment coffee or any drink of choice in hand, leaving him behind.

oikawa couldn't help but be upset, he had no idea what he had done to deserve the silent treatment. he had a very obvious pout on his face as he walked through the door a few minutes after you. "y/n?" he found you curled up on the couch, blanket thrown over you, scrolling on your phone. "y/n?" he asked again, "d-did i do something wrong? your eyes snapped up when you heard his voice crack and suddenly you were regretting your little prank.your boyfriend fiddled with the hem of his shirt, avoiding eye contact, you felt horrible. "tooru, c'mere." you patted the space beside you but he stayed standing, "please?" he moved toward you. "i'm sorry for upsetting you but i really don't understand what i did! please tell me so i can make it right." he cried, leaning his head on your shoulder in defeat.

"tooru... i was just messing around with you baby. it was a just a prank, i swear. i didn't think it would make you upset, i'm sorry." you explained, reaching your hands up to run your hands through his hair. "it was only a joke? so you're not mad at me?" he asked looking up at you. "of course not- tooru, you haven't done anything wrong. i was just pretending to be upset over those fans who talked to you in the coffee shop but i didn't think you would get upset like this. im sorry.""ugh you're seriously so mean y/n! you really had me there." he said, letting out a sigh of relief, embracing you in a hug, "you owe me big time!"

SUNA RINTARO.

you currently lay on your boyfriends bed while he plays video games, sat in a chair in front of his tv. he hadn't been playing for all to long but it was late in the night and you were sleepy and needy for attention. you let out a yawn as you thought about how to get his attention, then the thought came to you and you felt like a genius.

you wiped the smirk off before getting up from his bed and slowly making your way over to his chair, putting on the best frown and puppy dog eyes you could manage. you tap on his shoulder lightly causing him to pause his game swivel his chair around to face you, "what is it princess?" he asks, you avoid eye contact with him and jut your lip out a little further and let out a sniffle, "oh no baby, what's the matter?" he asks softly, raising his arm to cup your cheek in his hand. you shrug your shoulders and bow your head lower, letting out a dry cry, "c'mere, what's wrong babygirl," he asks, guiding you into his lap, rubbing your back. you remain silent, fake sulking as you rest your chin on his shoulder, "if you don't wanna talk about it thats okay baby. tell me when you're ready, 'kay?" you nod your head and smile to yourself as he continued to play his game.

your fingers played with suna's hair, your eyelids began feeling heavier and heavier as you listened to his breathing and the sound his controller was making, soon you fell asleep, cheek smushed against shoulder. your boyfriend only noticed you fell asleep around 20 minutes later when he asked if you were feeling okay but only got a quiet snore in return. he kissed your shoulder softly, whispering a small "goodnight," a smile creeping on his lips as he grabs a nearby blanket and lays it over your back. you definitely didn't have fun waking up in the same position you fell asleep in a few hours later, your boyfriend still playing at the same game. "rintaro?" you mumble, "what time is it?", "i dunno. are you feeling better though?", you nod your head and give his neck a few kisses before falling asleep again.

a/n been having a suna brainrot recentlyyyy in love w that man. also suna's is VERY self indulgent 😔 sorry p.s. i came up w this idea while writing a request but im like 75% sure ive seen it somewhere else before but i cant remember from who or where.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #oikawa toru #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #suna rintaro #suna x y/n #suna x reader #oikawa headcanons #mattsun x reader #mattsun x y/n #mattsukawa x reader #mattsukawa issei #sunni's works 📓

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bellisperennis0 · 3 years ago

Text

New Hope

Word Count: 2,505

Warning(s): Heartbreak, few swear words, did I mention heartbreak, Spoiler to Season 3 Episode 8, possible happy ending

Notes: Loved this request when I got, just sorry it took me a lifetime to finally get to. Based off this fic - Beautiful Storm. As always, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy! ❤️ GIF credit to angels-reyes

rkil98 asked: I love your imagines! Your so talented! I just wanted to make request for a imagine that goes with a “a beautiful storm”. It’s the night Angel showed up on her doorstep and she told him she was pregnant and maybe the morning after? I think it would be so dope seeing the ways he made it up to her and proved he was all in. You don’t have to if you don’t want to but if you do I’ll love you forever! ❤️

Blowing out the last candle on the dinner table, you take one last look around the tiny home you shared with Angel for the past few years.

This was the last straw for you; you were done fighting for someone who wouldn’t even fight for you. You were tired of the lonely nights of crying yourself to sleep. Tired of coming last in his world.

Making one last sweep of the bedroom to make sure you had everything you needed; you freeze when you hear the front door open and close, praying it was just EZ and not Angel.

When you hear Angel call your name, you knew from his tone he wasn’t all that pleased. “Fuck” you breathe out and make your way back out to the living room.

“The fuck is all this!” he yells as he points to your bags sitting by the front door.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you lean against the door frame. “Do you know how many times you have promised me you would be home for dinner?” you ask him “I promise you querida, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Leaving the Clubhouse now. Be there in just a few minutes.” you tell him as you do your best to mimic his voice.

His eyes go from you towards the kitchen. His head dropping when he sees the candles and the plates of food, yet again, sitting on top of the table, long forgotten.

“Save the bullshit excuse, Angel. I’m honestly tired of you constantly breaking my heart.” you tell him as you sniffle.

His head shooting up when he realizes you were crying.

“Bab-“ he tries to say as he tries to take a step closer to you, but your hand going up stops him.

“We aren’t happy Angel. We haven’t been for months now. I think its best if we take a break from each other for a while.” you start. “We both have things we need to work on individually before we could work on this relationship.” you continued.

“So that’s it? You’re making this decision for the both of us? I have no say?” Angel says and you can tell he was trying to control his anger.

You furrow your brows. “Angel, you made that decision a long time ago when you repeatedly chose the club and the rebels over me, over us. I used to be your number one priority, now I don’t even know where I stand in your world.”

“We can work this out, querida.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do with all these dinners and movie nights I plan? If you would actually show up instead of being over the border with Adelita, you would know that.” you shout, your emotions and frustration growing.

Angel sighs in frustration and he pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’m not going to just stand here and let you walk out that door.”

“You don’t have a choice, Angel. It’s now or when you’re gone.”

“No, [y/n]!!” his gruff voice yells. You step back in surprise at his sudden outburst. Sure you and Angel had your fair share of arguments, but he has never raised his voice in such a manner before.

Throwing his hands up, “I’m sorry.” he whispers as he tries to step forward, but stops when you take another step back.

“I can’t do this anymore, Angel. I just need some time to think about everything going on. Some time away.”

“Time away. From me?” he asks and you could hear the hurt in his voice.

“Not just you. From the MC. This relationship. Having to act like I’m happy all the time. I need to find myself again.” you tell him, fighting the tears.

He just stands there nodding.

“I love you, Angel, more than anything in this world, but I can’t stand on the sidelines of your life anymore. Once you figure everything out with the MC, with Adelita and the cartel, and then maybe you can figure out what it is you really want.” You tell him.

“But I want you, querida. A life with you.”

“Your actions say otherwise. I need to step away for us, from you, and I need you to allow me to do this, for the both of us.”

“I can’t. I can’t just let you walk out that door, [y/n].” he whispers.

Walking up to him, you place a hand on his chest and a soft kiss to his lips, “I love you.” you whisper before walking to get your bags by the door.

“This isn’t goodbye, Angel. I’ll see you soon.” you tell him and wait for him to nod his understanding before making your way out the door.

----

Now you find yourself sitting in the middle of your bedroom floor, wiping away the tears that stream down your cheeks as you stare down at the piece of paper and the countless sticks sitting in front of you.

A routine doctor’s appointment earlier in the day came with a surprise that flipped your world upside down.

“You’re pregnant.” you could hear the doctor’s voice as the moment replayed in your head.

Even with a sonogram in your hand, you were convinced that it was all a fluke - a sick joke from the universe - and stopped and grab some pregnancy tests on your way home. Now all eight tests sit in front of you with two pink lines or ‘pregnant’ on its screen, alongside your sonogram.

You didn’t know how you were going to tell Angel. It had been three months since you left and contact with him had been non-existent the last couple months.

This was something you and Angel had extensively talked about in the past, all before the MC and the L.O took top priority. The one person you wanted to tell the most hasn’t been answering your calls or messages, and it wouldn’t be fair to him to tell Pop or EZ first. So looks like you’ll have to keep this your little secret till you could finally tell Angel.

----

After a long day at work and constantly feeling sick, you were lying in bed with a long forgotten program playing in the background as you aimlessly scroll through videos on your phone. You could make out a faint knock through the low noise coming from the TV.

You furrow your brows as you prop yourself up on your elbows, closely listening to see if there was another knock or if you were just hearing things.

Then you could hear another knock - louder this time. A brief pause later, you could make out the faint voice of Angel. Quickly tossing off the blankets, you make your way down the hall to the door.

Flinging open the door, you find Angel standing there. You could tell he was drunk, but the tears streaming down his face had you instantly worried.

“What happened? What’s wrong Angel?” you ask as you step closer to try to console him, but he pushes past you and barges right into your home.

“She lied to me,” you could hear him say as you close the door behind you. Turning to find Angel pacing your living room floor.

“She fucking used me.” he says, his tone turning into anger.

You automatically knew who he was talking about, but you didn’t know the contents of what he was referring to.

“What are you talking about, Angel?” you ask in confusion. A part of you wanted to know what had happened so you could help him through it, but the other part of you was too scared of what he might tell you.

He finally stops pacing the room and looks up at you. He takes a deep breath before taking a seat, his head in his hands.

“The night you left, I was so upset that I needed someone, anyone, to talk to that hadn’t walked out on me already. I went to see her.” he tells you as he finally lifts his head to look at you.

“I didn’t go to see her to intentionally hurt you, but one thing led to another. Come to find out a few weeks later she tells me she’s pregnant....” he stops when you quickly make your way to the kitchen, emptying what little contents of your stomach into the kitchen sink.

“Shit querida. You all right?” Angel was quick to be by your side. Pulling your hair back and rubbing your back soothingly as you continued to vomit into the kitchen sink. You didn’t know if you were sick because of your pregnancy or if it was the gut punch Angel just gave you with dropping such news on you out of nowhere.

After a couple minutes, you were feeling slightly better.

“Here.” Angel hands you a bottle of water as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Thank you.” you whisper taking a swig of water and sloshing it in your mouth before spitting it in into the sink. “Sorry.” you tell him finally looking up at him.

“You okay?” he asks and you could hear and see the concern

You just nod your head, making your way back out to the living room; Angel following right behind you. The both of you sit in silence for what felt like eternity, fidgeting with your hands in your lap, unsure of what to say.

“The baby isn’t even mine.” you hear Angel barely whisper, your head shooting up when you realize he was crying again.

“Angel, I’m...” you tried but Angel shaking his head stops you from continuing.

He aggressively wiped the tears from his face as he sniffled. “Don’t apologize, querida. This is my karma for all the shit I have done and all the pain I have caused.”

“Angel, no one deserves to lose a child.”

“Here I was the fucking idiot that I am, hopeful that something in this fucked up life of mine was actually going right. Getting a life I thought I lost the day you walked out that door. As fucking scared as I was at the thought of fucking everything up, this was something I wanted.” he was now up pacing the room once again, tears streaming down his face as he went on. You sat there watching him, as you did your best to hold your tears at bay, allowing him to release all that pent up emotion.

“Only for it all to be ripped away from me in a blink of an eye. All just to fuck over the MC and get intel on Galindo. Used me as one of her fucking puppets.” he huffed as he finally took a seat, head in his hands as he tried to compose himself.

You just sat there taking everything Angel had just told you in. That explains why he hadn’t been answering your calls the last couple months. Your heart ached for how hurt and shattered Angel was, but a part of you couldn’t help but be selfishly relieved that he wasn’t having a child with Adelita.

“The entire time I couldn’t help but wish that she was you, and you were the one carrying our child. Guess that’s all just a far fetch dream now.”

“Angel...” you tried.

“No, querida. The night you decided to walk out, I was furious at you, I really was. Then I realized that it was my entire fault. I was the one that pushed you away. I made a promise to you that no matter what, you would always come first and I put the MC, the Rebels, even the fuckin cartel before you. All this shit is on me. Everything. Before I could get control of all that was going on, everything just exploded in my face. I didn’t want this for us, and for that I am really sorry, querida.”

Without saying a word you got up and went and walked over to your bag you knew was sitting on the dining table, pulling out that piece of paper you have been carrying around for the past few weeks. Angel sat there, brows furrowed, as he watched you move around the small space.

“I’ve been practicing how I was going to tell you and this wasn’t how it played out in my head, but you need to know.” you tell him as the tears begin to stream down your face.

You look down at the piece of paper in your hands before placing it on top of the coffee table in front of Angel.

He looks at it and then back up to you, finally looking back at the paper, picking it up.

You turned your back to Angel as you tried to control your emotions, unsure how he was going to react to this news.

“Are you being serious [y/n]?” you hear Angel whisper behind you. You just chuckle as you wipe the tears from your face.

“[y/n], is this real?” Angel asks again.

You nod your head, sniffling, and turn to look up at Angel as he slowly approaches you.

“A baby?” he asks

“Yeah.” you whisper giving him a small smile.

“A baby?” Angel repeats again with a smile and a look of pure admiration.

“Our baby, Angel.” you tell him with a small chuckle

Angel sniffles as he cups your face in his hands, “Our baby” he whispers and you just smile up at him, hand softly cupping his face, thumb wiping the tears from his cheek.

Angel places a kiss to your forehead, his hand on the back of your head pulling you into him. He places another kiss to the side of your head as you wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head on his chest.

“Our baby.” you softly chuckle as you hear Angel repeating the words again.

Angel pulls away slightly, with his thumb and index finger he lifts your chin so you were looking up at him, “Imma do it right this time, I promise you querida. I know I have a lot of making up to do and I will go to the end of the earth for you. This is my all. You and our baby is all I need.” he tells you.

“We still have a lot to work on, but I know we can get through this together. As long as I have you by my side from here on out, that’s all that matters to me. I love you, Angel.” you pull him down to you and softly place a kiss to his lips.

“I love you, mi dulce.” he gives you a smile.

From that day forward, Angel was there every step of the way. Sure there were bumps along the way, but you and Angel always managed to work through them, making your relationship that much stronger.

And the day your little princess was born, changed yours and Angel’s life for the better. Bringing new beginnings and new hopes.

--xx

Taglist: (Let me know if you would like to be added/taken off)

@sesamepancakes

@yourwonkywriter

@mijop

@mayans-sauce

@encounterthepast

@queenbeered

@chibsytelford

@alienstardust

#Angel Reyes #Angel Reyes x Reader #Angel Reyes Imagine #mayans mc imagine #Mayans MC x Reader #Mayans MC

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worminstuff · 4 years ago

Text

The Balcony of the Treehouse Pt.6

sleepy bois x reader au

no warnings:)

also merry christmas:)

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Is that good or bad” Y/n asked Techno, her gaze soft.

“I'm not sure. He was really cool but..” Techno shrugged his shoulders.

It was currently the next day, and Y/n was accompanying Techno in the treehouse. They were currently discussing Techno’s new friend as of yesterday, Bo. Sam's older son.

Apparently Bo was sorta like Techno in some ways. They were both pretty shy at first but then found some common interest, and became rather comfortable pretty fast. Bo even let Techno ramble about Y/n for a bit and also said he would totally wanna meet her too.

“He's just not me.” Y/n grinned cockily and Techno pushed her shoulder.

“Right.” he rolled his eyes. “How was it with the other boys?”

“It was alright. Surprisingly very chill. I guess Tommy and Tubbo had really tired themselves out in the morning beforehand.” she shrugged. She was telling the truth, they slept for quite a while and were only awake for about an hour before everyone else got back.

“What about Will?” Techno wondered how she handled being around him while he was still..angsty.

Y/n shrugged again. She didn't really want to tell him about the kitchen and how they talked for the whole tiny Tommy and Tubbo napped. Or the cigarettes.

She couldn't stop thinking about how she was sitting on the counter and how he seemed so calm and sweet as if nothing happened.

She just had no idea, he was doing it on purpose. Will figures, if he can ignore his protective and jealous feelings, and maybe just try to get a connection with her. He may actually be able to get somewhere. Techno has the higher ground, he spends all his time with her and he has for years. Wilbur's only just started to in the past year and a half or so.

Wilbur doubts Techno actually has genuine feelings for Y/n. He has no way of genuinely knowing. It's just sort of a hunch. Or a hope maybe.

“He actually asked if i wanted to go to that bonfire thing with him..” her voice was almost a mumble. Just after she said she thought it would be fun, Wilbur explained the next evening they were going down to the beach to have a bonfire and hangout and chill. He said they do it often and it's always really fun.

Techno looked at her, slightly surprised. She wanted to hangout with Wilbur? No way.

“And you said..no..right?” his brows furrowed.

“Well..wait why would I say no?” she looked at him. Her brows furrowed also.

“Well obviously..I- he- what?” Techno shook his head.

“What do you mean what? Why would I have said no? It sounds fun.” she crossed her arms.

Techno stared at her for a moment. He slid a bit forward, so he was a bit closer. He leaned his elbows on his knees and rested his head on his hands. Y/n stared back questioningly.

“Odds.” he stated, staring right into her eyes.

“Techno!” Y/n pushed his leg a bit, and looked away, slightly mad. “What the hell?!”

Odds was something they created when they were young, similar to the game odds, it ends with saying a number between certain odds to help decide something.except that's usually for something like a dare. In this case, they used it in sort of flip of a coin situations, but only when one of them thought it was really really important. And the person that calls odds, gets to pick the odds, ex. 1 through 5 or 1 through 10 etc. they did this so they didn't argue about situations sorta like this.

“If you say the same number as me, 1 through 4, you stay. If not, you can go. odds on your side.” he had 0 emotion to his features.

“That's not fair!” she frowned.

“It is though. I called it.” he shrugged, almost smiling. Almost.

Y/n huffed. “Fine.”

Techno counted them down and on the count of three,

“Two.” they spoke at the same time.

“Fuck!” Y/n hit his knee as Techno grinned. Crisis averted. Or so he thought.

Techno grinned as she huffed and crossed her arms with a pout, shooting daggers with her eyes.

“Hey, it's not that bad! Now I can read you that book you got me.” Techno had a happy little grin on his face.

“Oh no, i'm definitely going.” Y/n said. His smile disappeared instantly.

“What? But- but odds?” his shoulders sank. Y/n alone with will in a car, and then alone with him and his friends, at a bonfire. There would be beer and shit everywhere! He just wanted her with him, safe away from Wilbur's scummy friends.

“I told Will I would! I can't go back on that. That's so rude.” she looked at him with puppy eyes.

Techno glared slightly, looked away, then looked back. She knew the eyes work, he acts all tough but he's too soft for it not to work.

“Okay. but i want you back here, when it's over. Not your house, not inside our house. Treehouse.” he pointed to the floor.

“And then normal sleepover?” Y/n smiled a little.

Techno's face softened as he saw her smile. He tried not to match her smile while shaking his head a little.

“Sure.”

^^^^^^^^^^

“Who's going this time?” Phil asked Wilbur.

It was around 5 or 5:30 and everyone was sat around the dining room table having dinner like they always do. Phil was currently discussing the bonfire with Wilbur, because he wanted to make a guesstimate in his head for how long Will would be gone using context clues. Because Will was never really home by the times he says he will.

“The usual group” Wilbur pointed his fork at his plate. “Oh! And Y/n”

Wilbur looked to her with a grin. Phil, for a lack of better words, looked as if one of his kids just had a pregnancy scare.

“Sorry, “ Phil shook his head slightly, “say that again?”

“Or don't.” Techno mumbled, Y/n jabbed him in the side with her elbow.

“I'm going along! I haven't done anything fun lately so Wilbur offered to let me tag along. It'll be fun.”Y/n shrugged.

Wilbur was beaming, Techno was silently livid, and Phil was looking in between the two very nervously.

The reason Techno was so genuinely angry was because Wilbur looked so smug when they sat down at the table. His grin was from ear to ear and he was excited to talk to Y/n about when she wanted to go and if she needed anything from her house, and the entire time Techno sat and felt his anger levels rise. His ears were hot, his shoulders tense and not a smile in sight.

He wanted to smack the smirk of his brother's face to be frank.

Techno knew what was going to happen. She was going to go with him, and have an amazing time. Great, right? Wrong. Clear to Techno, this was some evil master plan. Wilbur was going to give her more friends she would only go see with him. So when she wanted to spend time with these new people she had to also see him. And obviously at first she'll be all she so he gets to confront her and break her out of her shell. Techno knows how social Y/n can be, and she loves meeting new people! He hated to say it, but his brother was a genius.

Techno's fingers were starting to tremble.

What if she did like them? And wanted to see them more? What if they're cooler than him and what if they do drugs? Y/n wouldn't do drugs..would she?

His breath was slowly starting to catch up on him. He excused himself quickly and made his way off to the bathroom.

The crisp sound of the door creaking filled his ears as his back slid against it till he was on the floor.

His mind was running rampant.

How well does he really know Y/n? What could she possibly want with a bonfire when she has him and the treehouse? Is he not enough for her? Should he try to make more friends?

What was wrong with him?

He clutched his leg as he silently shook and took tiny shallow breaths.

Soon enough, just as he was starting to be able to allow more air into his lungs there was a soft knock on the door.

“Techno?..” Phil's voice was soft on the other side of the door.

Techno sniffled as he stood, he brushed himself off, and took a deep breath pushing all emotion from his features. He reached over and flushed the toilet a few feet in front of him, then he ran the sink for a moment before opening the door with one hand wiping on his leg.

“Hm?” he raised his brows.

Phil stared at him, analyzing his face fully. He looked fine, sort of. He looks normal to anyone who isn't his father per say. Phil could see behind his cold eyes he had been crying. No matter how much he pushed his emotions down, he couldn't push away the puffy eye bags or the glossy sheen, though they were actually very subtle.

A simple arm was raised and Techno immediately fell into him, deadweight in his arms. Phil held him tightly, silently. He pressed his cheek onto Techno's head, brushing down the unruly tangles in his hair.

There were no words spoken, they stood silently. Phil knew Techno wasn't going to tell him anything so he did not bear to try.

A little bit of time passed, and they broke apart to make their way back when Phil leaned over,

“Laugh with me like we said something funny. Trust me.”

Techno stared at him for a moment, and then giggled softly. Phil joined him and their laughs were terribly fake which caused more laughter and soon it became real laughter as they were walking into the dining room.

Y/n was staring at a babbling Tommy, while Wilbur was on his phone. Y/n immediately looked to Techno once he was in the room, a worried look on her eyes that disappeared as she saw his face. She was worried for nothing.

Phil patted Techno's back softly as they both picked up their plates to clean them, Tommy following suit with his father and older brother. Will and Y/n stood to do the same.

“Alright dad, think we're gonna head off.” Wilbur said, his grin authentic.

Phil nodded, “Right, don't forget to send me a ping when you get there and on your way home.” he pointed a winger between the pair, both nodded.

Techno stared aimlessly as he watched his girl walk out the door with his brother.

He hoped she was going to have fun.

As soon as both doors to the front seats of Will's car closed, Wilbur looked at her excitedly.

He turned the car on and pulled from the driveway, “Are we excited?”

“You can say that.” her smile was small.

“Don't be nervous, you're gonna love them and they're gonna love you. It's gonna be great.”

Y/n stared at him for a moment, he read her so easily. He looked so giddy. Was it because of her? She didn't want to get cocky but she'd never seen him this excited to see his friends before.

Wilbur's mind was running wild, he was alone with her for once, and then she got to hangout with his people. He even had a small surprise for her that he was even more excited for.

Y/n was progressively getting more and more nervous as they drove silently. She was starting to overthink. As she listened to her thoughts quietly, she failed to notice her leg start to bounce.

Will placed a gentle hand on her knee, “None of that. Nothing to be worried over. I wouldn't have asked you to come if i didn't know for a fact they'd like you.” his eyes broke away from the road momentarily. Y/n nodded. She trusted him.

Soon the smell of saltwater filled the car. Y/n took a quiet deep breath. Letting it fill her lungs. She slowly calmed herself, trying not to think of the hand on her knee, it would only fuel her nervous fire.

Y/n felt strange being here without Techno. It felt wrong. She rarely ever goes anywhere he isn't. He's practically glued to her 85% of the time.

Which was why when she was first meeting Wilbur's “crew”, she felt like a fish out of water.

Even with Wilbur's comforting hand holding hers, she felt stiff and awkward. They were all intimidating, the dudes were tall and confident and the girls were all gorgeous and sweet. Confident too.

She did notice, one of the boys seemed much more approachable. He stood at the back of the group while introductions were going around, she learned his name was Eret and he was one of Wilbur's newer friends but he was really cool.

Wilbur beamed at Y/n as he told her about his friends, his hand was still gentle and it made her smile.

Wilbur was happy she was getting a bit comfortable.

Once they felt everyone had been thoroughly introduced, they all started placing blankets on the sand around the large fire they'd made before Will and her had arrived.

Wilbur set down a blanket he brought and motioned for her to sit with him. When she sat down, he leaned over to speak into her ear, “See, nothing to worry about, yeah?”

He leaned away, showing her a grin. She smiled and shook her head at his silly little grin.

This was really fun.

She loved hearing these kids talk, there was even one girl like her whose parents were also never home. She liked her. The girl even offered that they go drive around some time! When she said that, Y/n of course nodded eagerly.

Wilbur, well he couldn't keep his eyes off her. He loved seeing her like this, it was like she was in her element. Meeting new people and making connections. It's a shame Techno has hogged her from people for so long. He resented him for that. To be fair, it's been like that since they've met. Wilbur saw her all the time, but only in brief interactions up until highschool.

She was so sweet, excited to talk to all of them even though he knew she was nervous, and Wilbur knew his friends loved her already. How could they not?

Wilbur was about to try to get her to talk to him for a little, seeing as how they'd been there for almost 45 minutes already and had barely spoken to him, but he was taped on the shoulder as a signal there was about to be a cigarette break out in the parking lot.

Wilbur stood, and leaned down to Y/n whispering to her where he was going. Just before he was about to go, he placed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Her eyes were wide.

“Look a bit..surprised there?” it was Eret, he sat down on the blanket next to Y/n just after seeing Will was about to go for a butt. He didn't want Y/n to sit all alone.

“I um..no yeah he just..its nothing.” Y/n laughed at her own lack of words, and Eret did too.

“I take it you two aren't official or anything?” his voice was low, and almost gravely but it was still so comforting.

Y/n knew he didn't mean it as if he were trying to make a move on her, he sounded genuinely curious.

“No it's..complicated. Very complicated.” Y/n stared at the fire.

“If I'm not prying, how so? You both seem..really..content together.” he looked from her to the fire.

“I..well his brother is my..best friend and he..”

“He..?” Eret leaned in a little.

“Well i don't know what he is to me really.” she looked at him, her face in question at her own realization.

“Well I know for a fact, he's infatuated with you.”

Y/ns eyes were wide again, “what?”

“Oh he's always going on about you.” Eret had a cheeky grin, almost like Will’s she thought, “He's been talking about you meeting all of us since he asked you yesterday. Not to mention he’s..” Eret stopped himself. He got carried away in his little ramble.

“He's what?” Y/n was confused why he stopped himself.

“No no, I really shouldn't have said anything.” he waved his hand as if he were brushing away his words.

Y/n groaned and threw her head back, “You can't do that!”

Eret laughed, “I'm sorry!”

“Tell me please.” she looked at him with pleading eyes.

Eret stared at her for a moment and sighed. “He's in love with you. But i don't know if you know that or not..so..” she did not. “I think I'm the only one hes told, but he was so...I don't know how to explain it. When he told me he sounded like he was pouring his heart out.” Eret’s eyes were on the fire.

He was in love with her?

Y/ns heart ached. No wonder he was so...hurt. It was her fault too.

As if on cue, (this boy was terribly good with timing) she felt a familiar hand on her shoulder as it slid around her shoulders. Will pulled her to his chest as he sat behind her. He smelled of smoke, but it was comforting. Before she thought about it, or what they were doing, she leaned back into him. The rest of the group took back their seats and conversion rose again.

Y/n an Wilbur sat listening quietly until she heard Will's voice in her ear.

“Chatting it up with Eret while I was gone?” his arm was still across her chest, his hand on her shoulder.

“I was, he's really nice.” she turned to look at him.

“Yeah?” he smiled at her in the dim light of the fire. She smiled back and nodded.

Wilbur stared at her a moment, “How about..we get out of here, and I show you another pretty place?” he was still smiling, but his eyes were nervous for a response.

“Sure. Sounds fun.” she gave him a reassuring smile.

Wilbur was quick to get up. Telling the group they were heading off, a little too excitedly.

Before Wilbur could pull her away, she quickly got all of the girls numbers and was even added to a group chat. She was beaming once they reached the car.

“And she even told me that i could go and hangout when they went to her house! Isn't that so sweet.” she looked at Will towards the end of her sentence to see he was already staring at her, his hand on the wheel in front of him.

His lip was in between his teeth, “Mhm. I knew you'd get along swimmingly with them.”

Y/n giggled.

“So where are we going?” she smiled to herself as Wilbur put his hand on her knee.

“Not saying, but, it's not far at all. We're practically there.” he was exaggerating, but the ride wasn't long at all.

Even though he wasn't, Wilbur felt as if he was driving slow. He felt like time was still, and he was glad. He wanted this to last as long as it could.

Y/n would have never expected what she saw, she was expecting a pretty clif with a view, or something like that.

He brought her to a flower field.

He parked the car on the side of the road towards the middle of the field.

Once they'd both stepped out, Wilbur went to her side.

“Up you go, turn around.” he motioned up at the top of his car. Y/n stared at him for a moment before turning around and letting him hoist her up so she could climb on top of the car. He climbed up after her and sat beside her.

For a little while, Y/n stared at the way the moonlight was casting a blue white onto the field and all the flowers. Wilbur stared at her. They sat this way for a little while but Y/n was the first to break the silence.

“A little birdy..told me something interesting.” she looked at him.

“Hm?” he hummed.

“Is it hard?” Y/n was staring at the moon, her hand was picking at the seam of her jeans.

“Is what hard?” Wilbur stared at her feet as they swung back and forth.

“..being in love with me.” she looked up at him, her eyes starry.

“Maybe. But it doesn't have to be.”

526 notes · View notes

bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Girl [J.JK x Reader]🔞🌼☁️

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, angst because I like to cry myself to sleep

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom!jungkook, sub!Reader, size kink is still strong, mild dd/lg themes, praise kink, long haired jungkook because yes that needs to be a warning, strength kink, they fuck in the kitchen smh

Jungkook and you are in a healthy relationship, managing all those things couples have to manage; building an IKEA bed, having your first fight, or arguing who should do the laundry this time. Apart from that, your life inside your bedroom has been pretty active as well, leaving Jungkook more satisfied than ever. He's not a horny teenager anymore after all, trying not to bust a nut just because he got a glimpse of your nipples through your rather thin shirt- yet you always manage to be so unbelievably sinful, he can't help but snatch a taste every now and then. After all, you're his- he's simply reminding you.

This is part of the 'Good Girl'-Universe!

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl

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Jeon Jungkook and you loved to tease each other. From the way he would rub his sweat-soaked hair all over the crook of your neck playfully after his workout just to rile you up, just to exclaim happily that you love him too much to actually be serious when you yell that he's disgusting. And he's right- even if he's exhausting to be around sometimes with his seemingly endless energy (seriously, you're convinced at this point that he's the human embodiment of the energizer bunny), or how he could sometimes forget that you're not as tough as his other male friends that he was regularly around. You catch yourself laughing inside yourself every time you turn into a crybaby and tear up when a comment gets under your skin, because his entire body changes posture- every time he notices you getting hurt because he's too rough while playfighting, or when he again tells you you could just get your chubby butt up and work out with him, completely ignoring the fact that he knows its a very sensitive topic for you; he literally turns into a complete child who just got asked to explain rocket science. Jungkook isn't used to handle something as fragile as a girl- plus, you play along and usually brush off most things so easily, that he simply sometimes forgets that you actually have weak points.

One of these moments occured early on in your relationship; it was a silly mistake on his side really. When Taehyung asked him straight up if he was dating you, you didn't expect a huge love proposal; Jungkook wasn't like that. But a simple yes would've been okay as well- yet Jungkook being the cocky bastard he was, simply made a comment along the lines of 'nah, I'm just screwing her.' It was meant as a joke really, and it took him a good thirty seconds to notice your demeanor changing. Deep inside you, you knew he didn't mean it like that, yet it still hit you hard, especially considering his past hobby of trying to be the biggest manwhore around. When he'd went after you just when you had told him you'd be using the bathroom and not returning after a good ten minutes, he'd bursted into the womans bathrooms just in time to see you trying to wipe away your tears. His face had been priceless really now that you thought about it; before that moment you always had a hard time imagining that 'kicked puppy look' people always talked about- he didn't look like you just kicked him, but full on sucker punched his prized playstation out of orbit just for a laugh. He was totally unprepared and clearly had no idea what to do in that moment, never having needed to deal with tears in that way- and your face had hit him especially hard, considering how it was his fault at that. Considering how lost he really was he dealt with it quite sweetly, yet in a typical Jungkook fashion- uncaring of other woman and girls trying to get into the bathroom, he'd grabbed a considerable amount of tissue paper from the dispenser next to the sink you were standing in front of, promptly sitting you on top of it to properly have you at eye-level with him to wipe away your tears and smeared make up, telling you how you looked better without it anyways, and how sorry he was for being an utter asshole and idiot at the same time. You honestly started laughing at that. Not necessarily his comment even though it was true, but his extremely concentrated face, as if he was restoring an ancient artwork or something the likes of that. He audibly sighed at that, glad to know you didn't hate him. Because that was his innermost fear; you probably seeing the dickbag he thought he was underneath and leaving him for good. Not that he'd tell you that. You knew of that fear though.

Needless to say, it wasn't the only thing that happened between you both. Yet you've always overcome these things with ease, both of you growing surprisingly mature about arguments as time went on. Jungkook changed you as well- you were a wallflower before, and if you were honest, you kind of still were. But you were carrying yourself with a newfound confidence because of his daily praises- turning heads every now and then simply because you actually liked yourself these days. And Jungkook noticed as well- always commenting on how he didn't know if he liked the change or not, considering how much attention you now got everywhere you both went. You simply countered that with a simple comment along the lines of 'Now you know how I feel', because he was glowing up every month it seemed. Yet he stayed true to his words back then to you; he really did only have eyes for you anymore.

What really did piss him off was just how innocent you could be sometimes. It had him fuming how oblivious you could seem to others shamelessly flirting with you, yet he knew that he loved that about you just as much. The fact that you would willingly (and happily of course) let him corrupt you over and over again fuled his pride to no ends, making him feel like he was your knight in shining armor, even if it sounded sappy. Right now however he could really use some more patience, because he was sure his own amount was slowly running out. When he came back home, he didn't really have any plans, except for the one you had already agreed on. You both wanted to cook something tonight, nothing fancy, simply craving some kind of 'bonding time' as you called it, even though he had immediately told you this could be done in a different way, to which you blushed. He loved making you embarrassed, almost craving the way your flustered cheeks would turn into a beautiful red shade.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He knew those plans would change however as soon as he spotted you on the couch in his living room. That itself wasn't something new since you lived here, but the attire you chose was rather.. unfair. He was supposed to keep it in his pants tonight, yet he could already feel himself rising against the fabric of his sweatpants at the view of you in a black shirt of his, oversized on your way smaller body. Yet that exactly did it- because that was all you wore, apart from your flimsy pair of pastel blue lace rimmed panties. You raised your head from out of your book and he was a goner as soon as he saw those eyes.

"Babydoll you're being really unfair right now." He groaned as he sat down on the couch, making you bounce a bit next to him. You looked at him confused, his patience snapping. Maybe it was his frustration that had filled up his mind during the day, or simply his habit of taking what he wanted when he wanted it, but soon enough you found yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of his. His hands were fast to reach under your, or more so his shirt, growling when he felt your bare breasts underneath his fingers. You really were asking for it.

Stop. Mission abort. Cancel all open tasks. Shutdown, emergency-

With a sigh the young boy detached himself from you, running a hand through his hair rather agressively. Even though he would usually not feel too bad about his actions, especially with you, considering he felt rather safe and comfortable around you, he had to remember the small argument you both had the night prior. It really hadn't even been an argument if he was being honest, and it was basically all on him that night, yet he felt like he needed to second-guess his actions now. It had been a simple question really, admittedly a fair one at that, however, it also was one he rather feared answering. Yes, Jeon Jungkook was actually scared of a mere question.

'Why won't you kiss me?'

Well, yeah. Why wouldn't he? To answer that would mean to expose himself, to open himself up, to be vulnerable- and even though he knew deep down that you would never use anything against him in an almost predatory meanor others in the past had, he couldn't shake the feeling off. The fear, of what he couldn't tell. He simply waved you off, telling you that you both didn't need those sappy gestures, and you had simply nodded, accepting that, even though he knew that you felt hurt by his answer. Hell, he felt hurt by his own answer. And what had hurt him even more was your reaction to it; somehow he wanted you to be offended, to openly dig at his wounds, to scratch at his scars and make him spill his blood into your hands. He didn't want you to feel like he only loved you physically, like he only wanted to own your body, because he craved so much more than your touchable form. He wanted to build his home into your very soul, wanted to surround himself with your voice and live in your very heartbeat- yet it didn't matter how romantic and oh-so poetic his own thoughts could be. It didn't matter at all if he couldn't say it.

He looked at you, internally cringing at the way you looked at him, utterly confused. You'd gotten so used to him using you that it made his own saliva taste bitter, making him crinkle his brows a little. "I-" He started, yet took a deep breath, his eyes aimlessly dancing over the plush carpet, analyzing the various shades of light brown it presented to him. Right now he hated it. Hated how it made his apartment, your apartment feel like home. He hated how it did fit into the living room even though he'd complained about you buying it, arguing that you started to take over his life back then when you both didn't even date each other. He hated how he fell in love with it after he'd seen you lay on it with your phone in hand, the small white fan in the corner of the room softly blowing your hair and clothes during the summer. He hated how he remembered spilling his soda on it one day, freaking out because he knew even if he would cover it up you'd notice, you always noticed. Just like now. Because the hand you'd placed on his shoulder as a form of comfort had never felt so heavy on him, like a brick trying to force his entire back down. "M' sorry.." He simply grunted out, putting his head in his hands.

"What're you sorry for?" You had laughed a bit uneasy, and he hated the sound of it. He always pictured himself as the man who was oh-so protective of you, yet right now he'd never felt so small. "Is it about yesterday? You don't have to change Jungkookie, I don't mind-" Yet he had to shut you up, turning a bit to look at you with a face melted into a vision of being thrown side by side by your own thoughts. This was exactly the issue. You didn't mind- and he knew that you didn't even lie about that- it made everything so much worse.

The nickname, the way you said it, the way you meant it- it all just punched his guts even harder. Instead of answering he simply took your face in his hands, placing his lips onto yours with so much emotion you could feel them trembling. His kisses turned into more than simple pecks, they turned into desperate cries of confusion, of insecurity, of so many things you would've never associated Jungkook with. Slowly your bodies fell into place again, with him laying you down on your back, a pillow falling down and knocking a fork down from the small table, yet none of you cared about it in that moment. As soon as you reached for his belt he'd grabbed your hand, holding them with such care. "No no- I-" He said, switching between kissing and talking. "I want to- no, I need to make love to you, yeah?" You squeaked at his sudden movement when he'd picked you up, trying to carry you to the shared bedroom, yet aborting that mission as well by simply sitting you ontop of the kitchen counter, the marbled stone cold underneath your butt. You gasped into the open air, the way he'd just lifted you with such ease making you feel so small- in every good way possible. Yet even though this wasn't the first time making out in the kitchen, this was new- to both of you. He had no clue what to actually do, exploring new territory as well as you did in that moment, never having gone slow before. Yet he slowly eased into it, his arms leading his hands over your exposed skin, fingers softly squeezing the flesh of your thighs. His kisses started to wander, caressing your neck, yet even though his dominant side was starting to show the more comfortable he got with what he was doing, you noticed a slight difference in his demeanor. His arms weren't limiting your movement, weren't moving you around to his hearts content- even though you would never complain about that- they were around you, his hands on your back, bunching up the fabric of his shirt in his hands, then letting go just to repeat like a kneading cat. "You're so sweet, so so sweet, did I ever tell you that?" He whispered almost like a secret, and you felt like he was bewitching you in a weird way. "Wanna keep you all to myself, wanna hide you like a secret." He said lowly, almost growled, and you felt yourself slowly fall for his word with every sound he made. "But I also wanna show you everyone, wanna show everyone how lucky I am, how I got the prettiest and sweetest of them all." He said, hands wandering up his shirt you were wearing, running over your soft breasts, squeezing them softly and relishing in the way they felt under his fingertips. He always loved your skin, even though you'd complained before how you disliked the slight chub on your lower belly, or how your thighs were thicker than most girls your height. Yet he couldn't find anything wrong with it, loving the way it gave you such a soft vibe and feel. This was you, every little flaw that you were seeing he saw as another thing to love about you, as sappy as it sounded. "You're my good girl, my best girl.." He said before he started to move your already ruined panties to the side, his fingers exploring your heat. "My only girl." He said, making you mewl into his neck, hands now grabbing his shirt for a change. He made you shuffle a bit closer towards him, standing between your legs while his tattooed hand pushed two fingers inside you, reaching to make you feel good, yet never going the usual pace.

"Jungkoo-ah- Jungkookie please-!" You sighed, and he simply chuckled, kissing your neck, down to your collarbone where he playfully nipped at the skin, loving the sounds you were making. "No no no, I wanna go slow yeah? Wanna make love babydoll, we got time.." He said, and you shot him a pout, making him laugh. "Come on I'm trying to be romantic here!" He said, and you reached for his jeans again- making him move your hands away again. "Nuh-uh. Good girls are patient. You can wait right, pretty girl?" He said playfully, making you pout again. He couldn't help but comply with you. How could he not? He loved you. He really did. Fuck, he really, really did. Undoing his belt and letting his pants fall to his knees along with his underwear, he reached for your butt, making you shimmy even closer to him so he could swiftly enter you, making both of you gasp out both in anticipation and relief from your side for getting your way.

The simple view he had of your form speared on his cock was the sole reason he loved every position that made him look at you. The picture in front of him just was too presious yet sinful to be wasted. He wished he could take a picture of it actually, yet he decided against it, having heard his phone fall out of the back pocket of his jeans before, and he was kind of too terrified to see his screen cracked yet. He also couldn't really think about it, the way your walls engulfed him occupying his mind almost completely. His arms encaved you, holding you against him as close as possible, creating a safe haven for you and your mindset. You always slipped into some sort of headspace whenever his praise and affection got to a certain point- something that had terrified you at first, making you feel a bit embarrased as well- yet Jungkook had assured you that it was completely okay and normal, having googled it someday back when he'd been bored on his phone. It was actually quite endearing that your mind trusted him enough to slip into such a vulnerable state, his pride feeding off if it to no end.

He wanted to go slow, yet by the end of it his pace had quickened to his typical ruthless tempo, making you gasp out bursts of breath against his neck, hands clawing at his shoulder blades though the material of his shirt, grabbing onto him for dear life, while on your fast lane to release. When he came himself his breathing got erratic from oversensitivity, yet he ignored it to bring you over the edge as well, even making you ride it out to its fullest afterwards. When you slowly deflated against him, hands simply reaching out for his body, he softly cooed at you, completely enchanted by you in your post-orgasmic bliss. Suddenly he laughed, resting his head in the crook of your neck. "God, why am I like this?" He said, soft smile turning bitter. "Can't even be soft for one fucking time." Yet your hand softly ran through his now slightly damp locks, head turning to look at him with so much endearment he could cry- well, he actually felt his eyes start to sting, but he swallowed them down.

"You don't have to, Jungkookie." You softly said, and he wanted to argue. "Don't change. You're perfect just the way you are. I love you either way. Doesn't matter if you buy me roses or screw me in the kitchen. I take any love you give me." He suddenly laughed, and his eyes turned into sparkling half moons, his bunny smile almost blinding you.

"God I love you."

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"Jungkookie?"

"hm?"

"I'm hungry."

"There's leftovers in the oven."

"You're not gonna treat me some chicken nuggets?"

"Tomorrow maybe. Its too late now baby."

"Come on, be a sweet baby-boy and do it-"

"Careful sweetheart."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

IT.IS.FINALLY.OUT.Thank you all so so much for waiting so patiently, I really didn't expect all of you to even stay, let alone shower me with all of your support- I really didn't deserve that! I hope I didn't dissapoint too much with it, since I didn't check for spelling errors :( I love you all, and I hope you're all staying safe and healthy during these times! Remember that spreading love begins with self-love, and self-love begins with small steps 💜

#jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #dom!Jungkook #sub!read #jungkook x reader #bts imagine #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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nocturnal-milk-dud · 4 years ago

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Someone to Take Care of You

I have a Ray Merrimen fic I should finish and a Carrillo fic I want to write but apparently Frankie Morales owns my ass. I don’t understand it either

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x Reader

Summary: You (Reader) have a cold and Frankie comes over to take care of you

Rating: PG for language

Warnings/notes: the fluffiest shit ever; like this is the cutest shit I think i’ve ever done; i feel like i wrote this really fast and messed up something and missed it, so critiques are welcome

Word count: 1420

Tag list: (once again tagging y’all cause you’ve enjoyed and/or responded to the others. if you don’t want to be tagged in the future ((assuming there’s more)), let me know) @dodgerandevans @reading-rosa @pascaliprincess @souls-rain @heythere-mel @bi-son-writes @slugbuggie

Crumpled tissues littered the floor and you were burrowed under a mound of blankets on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. You couldn’t breathe through your nose and the skin under and around your nostrils was red and irritated. You groped around aimlessly on the floor for the box of tissues and another cough drop as the burning started to creep back into your throat. Your phone went off as you blew your nose, wincing at the sensation.

“I thought this shit was supposed to be softer,” you grumbled, flinging the tissue on the floor. You looked at your phone and saw a text from Frankie.

Where are you?

“Where am I?” It dawned on you then: Benny’s fight. You had been planning on meeting the guys there, then heading out for drinks afterward. “So much for that.” You texted back that you were sick, saying you’d see them another night.

Do you need anything? You smiled at your phone, thinking of all the things that would make you feel better at that moment. At the top of your list was someone to hold you, but you weren’t about to tell Frankie that. Jokingly, you told him you needed brownies, and set your phone on the table, nestling back under the blankets. You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, feeling grateful to have someone in your life like Frankie. You two had known each other for a long time and he was always someone you could rely on if you ever really needed anything. It was a good feeling when so many of the friendships in your life felt awkward and impersonal.

You must have slept, but for how long you had no idea, because you woke up to a knocking at your door.

“No,” you mumbled, turning away and pulling your blankets up over your head. Your phone rang and you whined, flailing around for it, wanting more than anything for it to stop. Why was it so loud? Why was it on? Why was anyone calling you? You glanced at the screen through narrowed eyelids.

“Fish?” you answered, your voice a nasally rasp. Why on earth was he calling?

“Open the door, I have brownies.” You whipped your head around to look at the door, then looked around your mess of a living space. You stumbled to your feet and tried to scoop up the pile of tissues on the floor, but the wave of pain that hit your forehead when you leaned over was too much.

“You’re supposed to be at Benny’s fight and then getting drinks with the guys,” you said, making your way to the door. You wrenched it open to find Frankie standing there, bags of groceries in his hand. Clearly he’d felt you needed more than brownies.

“There’ll be other fights,” he said, a small smile on his face. He hung up his phone and you did the same, stepping aside to let him in. You turned, watching him as he headed for the kitchen and you looked around your living room, taking in the mess you’d made.

“If I’d known you were coming I’d have cleaned up,” you said, feeling embarrassed. You thought then about how you looked too: hair falling out of a sloppy bun, the red skin around your nose, and you sniffed your hoodie before you remembered that you couldn’t smell. You didn’t want Frankie seeing you like this. You didn’t want anybody seeing you like this.

“You’re sick, it’s no big deal,” Frankie said. You walked into the kitchen, standing there like a little kid as you watched him empty the contents of the bags on the counter. There was a package of brownies, as promised, but there was also cold medication, more tissues, more cough drops, soup, orange juice, tea, and honey. The slightest of smiles crossed your face as you looked at everything.

“How are you feeling?” Frankie asked. Before you could respond, he reached out and put his hand to your forehead and cheek, feeling for a temperature, and your eyes went wide for a moment at the unexpected touch.

“Crummy,” you said, once you remembered he’d asked you a question. “No fever, just a sore throat and my nose hates me.” Frankie held up a bottle of lotion.

“This should help with the irritation,” he said, gesturing around his own nose. “And there’s some nasal spray.”

“Thanks, Frankie,” you said, smiling softly at him.

“Have you eaten anything?” he asked, taking his jacket off and placing it on the back of a kitchen chair. You thought about the handful of Chex cereal you didn’t taste earlier, followed by the water that seemed to somehow only burn your throat more.

“Yes,” you said slowly, “but I don’t think it counts.” Your eyes found the package of brownies and you reached out for them.

“Nope,” Frankie said, placing a hand on the box. “No brownies yet.”

“Fish,” you whined, your lips falling into a pout. “I’m sick, remember?”

“Yeah, and you need real food first. Go sit down and I’ll make you some soup.” Your shoulders slumped and you looked from him to the brownies and back again, the pout staying on your face. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep a straight face.

“Vamos,” Frankie said, laughing. You did as he said, walking back into the living room and curling up on the couch. You had the TV on, but you turned the volume down when you realized Frankie was humming while he worked. It was a light, soft sound and you closed your eyes, feeling more comfortable than you had all day.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Frankie said, setting a bowl of chicken noodle soup on the coffee table in front of you. You hadn’t been sleeping, but you had drifted off someplace, and you opened your eyes to see him cleaning the tissues off the floor. You had melted into the couch while he was in the kitchen, but now you tossed the blankets aside and got to your feet.

“No, no, Frankie, please, I’ll clean those up.” It was one thing for him to bring you groceries and make you food, but you hated the idea of him cleaning up after you. You always tried to keep a clean home, especially when you knew people were coming over; you couldn’t stand the idea of someone thinking even for a moment that you were a slob.

“It’s not a big deal, eat.” You ignored him and crouched down to clean up the tissues yourself, but you should have known that was a bad idea. The headrush came back, and you closed your eyes, placing a hand on Frankie’s shoulder to steady yourself. His hand came up under your elbow.

“You okay?” Frankie asked, and you took a deep breath, nodding slowly.

“I think so,” you said.

“Hey.” You opened your eyes to find him looking at you very intently. “I’m here to take care of you. I know what being sick is like, I know how gross it can be. I know you’re not at your best and neither is your place, and that’s okay. Let me help.” You looked down at the floor, feeling like you were ready to cry, not because you were upset, but because Frankie’s kindness overwhelmed you. God, you really needed to sleep.

“Thank you,” you said. Frankie helped you straighten up and get back over to the couch. You snuggled back into your spot and carefully ate the soup while he cleaned up in the living room and in the kitchen. When he came back he was carrying the brownies and you grinned as he set them on the coffee table.

“Just so we’re clear, brownies aren’t a good food to eat when you’re sick. Nothing with a lot of sugar is, but I feel like you’ll kill me if I don’t let you have them, so…” Frankie trailed off, making you laugh, but your face fell when you realized he had his jacket in his hand, that he was heading out. You thought about the list of things you needed, what was at the top, as you watched him walk towards the door, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“Hey, Fish,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, making him turn. “There’s one more thing I need, if you wouldn’t mind.”

You fell asleep that night in Frankie’s arms, your head on his chest, thinking that there were some upsides to being sick.

#i'm at the writing fanfic stage of the lockdown #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fluff #pedro pascal #catfish morales fic #catfish morales

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emitheduck · 4 years ago

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So. We're Soulmates? (Bucky x Reader)

A/N: my first soulmate AU, and I figured it was finally time, and bucky deserved one lol. no spoilers whatsoever

Soulmate AU where you have your soulmate’s birthday tattooed on your arm ---

March 10th, 1917.

(Y/n) had always thought, there was no possible way that the universe had ever, ever gotten her soulmate’s birthday right. When everyone was celebrating that their soulmate was around the same age as them, she got to look down in horror as she could practically see her soulmate’s life fly by. There was legitimately no possible way that her soulmate would even still be alive.

The rules of the soulmate were strange, and no one ever understood them or questioned them. It was found out sometime in the 80s that the dates on peoples forearms weren’t random--but the birthday of their soulmate. Because the universe was a cosmic nightmare, when someone’s soulmate died, the numbers went with them.

That’s what made this so strange.

Either (Y/n)’s soulmate was hanging onto life support, or the universe had fucked up and decided it was going to trick her into thinking she could find happiness like everyone else.

She had these feelings up until she got the faithful call one day, that she had landed the job with SHIELD and found out that she would be working in the helicarrier during the attack on New York. And that’s how she met Steve Rogers.

“You know, it’s kind of funny.” Steve sighed with a chuckle, shaking his head as he followed (Y/n) who was leading him to where he would be staying.

“What is?” She asked as she typed in the access code for one of the doors as they walked.

“The number on your arm. That’s my friend’s birthday.” Steve was smirking as he walked into his room. “I mean, it was his birthday.”

(Y/n) looked down at the date on her arm and sighed, her hand instinctively covering the date. “You sure he’s dead? Not some hundred-year-old veteran in a nursing home that you haven’t checked in on or something?” She was trying her best to not sound horrible for joking about his friend's death, but he seemed almost amused by her banter.

“Last I checked, he’s dead. I watched him fall off the train and everything.” He told her as he sat down on the edge of his bed. “His name was Bucky.” He told her as she turned around to leave, watching her stop for a moment to listen before she left.

Steve’s words always lingered in the back of her mind ever since that day on the helicarrier. She had seen the Bucky memorial spot in the museum, and the day she found out that he was alive, she would never forget (mostly because when it happened, she had dropped the bottle of wine she was holding on the floor and spent hours picking up tiny shards of glass).

The year was now 2023. Five years after the blip, and (Y/n) now fully retired from SHIELD. She left on good terms, but the years of working were just exhausting. Especially now that she came back after vanishing for five years and had to rebuild her life all over again. At least they were respectful, and were happy to give her the pay that she had missed out on.

It was hard enough having to deal with knowing all your close friends sacrificed themselves for the whole world, and not being able to do anything about it. That was the reason that kept her up most nights. The guilt of feeling like she could have done something, but never got the chance to, was the hardest feeling.

That’s what led (Y/n) to walking aimlessly around the grocery store at almost 2am. When she couldn’t sleep, sometimes the best thing to do was walk around pushing the cart and praying that the LED lights would calm her down enough to go home and face the empty apartment.

What she didn’t expect was turning the corner of the frozen section and crashing her cart into someone elses. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention.” (Y/n) apologize as she looked at the man in front of her. “I should have been looking. I guess I’m just tired.”

“I’m probably just tired too.” He chuckled, pulling his cart away from hers. Both the carts were empty anway. “You come here to walk around at night too?”

“How could you tell?” (Y/n) laughed, running a hand through her hair as she looked him over. He looked familiar, and knowing her luck he was some assassin that was stalking her, and came here to finish the job.

He motioned to their empty carts with a bob of his head. “Something about just pushing the carts around and listening to the crappy music makes me feel better too.” He smirked as he never broke eye contact. “Also, people normally buy food when they’re shopping.”

(Y/n) sighed, nodding. “You caught me. I’m just here to wander.”

“It’s okay. I am too. Sometimes staring at the TV isn’t enough.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he broke eye contact to look where his hands were gripping the handle of the cart. “Sorry, I’m just rambling I guess.”

“No, I get it.” She laughed it off, knowing it was late and sometimes people just kept talking when they were tired. “My names (Y/n).” She smiled, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He seemed to hesitate, but reached out and shook her hand. “My name’s Bucky.”

She could feel her mouth go dry. “Bucky?” There was just no, possible way that this was the man who has been in the back of her mind for years on end.

“I’m guessing you know who I am.” He muttered, already preparing himself to turn around and forget this interaction never happened. “Sorry, I should go.”

“Wait! No, I didn’t mean it like that.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she held her hands out to stop him from leaving. “I just have heard so much about you--not the way you think, it sounds so weird. I talked to Steve about you once, way back before the battle of New York.”

She peaked his interest at the mention of Steve. “You knew Steve?”

(Y/n) nodded. “He told me all about you. Look, I even have your birthday on my arm.” She told him, lifting up her sleeve to show him the date on her arm, watching his eyes go wide out of shock. “Steve liked to always tease me that I had your birthday, and I always told him that I probably had some old man, sitting in some hospital bed, decaying before our eyes. Wow, I am rambling, I am so sorry. I should leave.” She was bright red as she decided to just leave her cart where it was and accept the humiliation and leave.

“No, you don’t have to go.” Bucky told her, gently grabbing her arm to stop her from leaving. “I guess now that you showed me yours, I’ll show you mine.” He grinned as he let go of her arm, using his left hand to pull up his long sleeve. There on his arm, in bold black numbers was (Y/n)’s birthday clear as day.

“Do you maybe want to go get coffee at that 24 hour place across the street? We might have a bit we need to talk about.” She was dumbfounded. Steve would always tease and joke, telling her that Bucky was her soulmate just because it was the same birthday on her arm. But due to the fact that he was presumed dead for so long, (Y/n) never thought anything of it.

“Are you going to come inside? I’ve been holding the door open for almost a minute.” Bucky asked, laughing a little uncomfortably as he watched the woman just stand at the door of the diner. She didn’t even remember the walk to get there.

(Y/n) blinked, rubbing her eyes as she nodded and walked inside. The sign said seat yourself, and she found a nice seat by the window for the two of them. “Sorry. I guess I’m just a little speechless.”

He chuckled as he shifted in the booth. “I’ll be honest. Me too.”

“So. We’re soulmates.” She shrugged, feeling uncertain of herself. Finding her soulmate was never the first thing on her mind, because she never actually thought that she would find him. Sure, the universe also had a way of making the two cross paths at some point, but because of the age, she never cared.

“When I used to see the date on my arm, I thought it was a joke.” He told her, mumbling that he wanted a coffee when the waiter walked over and asked what they wanted. “She wants a coffee. Two cream, one sugar.” He said as the other man nodded and walked away.

“How did you know my coffee order?” She asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

Bucky opened his mouth like he was about to speak but sighed. “I legit have no idea. My brain was working for me, and it just came out.”

(Y/n) laughed. “I mean, we’re cosmically linked so it does make sense.” The coffee was set down in front of them and she smiled as she held onto the mug. “Is this when I ask if you can tell me about yourself?”

“Where do I start?” He asked as he set his coffee down after taking a sip. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but I go by Bucky. James is only for when shit hits the fan I guess.”

“I think I prefer Bucky.” She smiled, watching as his cheeks turned red for a moment.

“What about you Doll? What fun thing do you have to tell me?” Bucky asked her with a smirk, making it her turn to blush.

“I worked for SHIELD, that’s where I met Steve. But then there was that time we found out that Hydra was inside of SHIELD, and technically you tried to kill me.” She pointed out, watching as he put his head down in shame. “But that’s all in the past now. I’m not that person anymore.”

He took a sip of his coffee before he spoke. “What changed?”

(Y/n) sighed, shaking her head as she held onto her coffee mug for warmth. “I was pretty close with Steve and Natasha. Tony helped me get the job at SHIELD, too. Three people that I looked up to more than anything, were gone before I ever got a chance to say goodbye.” She told him, knowing that there would be no more tears left to cry. Her tear-ducts seemed to stop working after she had cried for days straight that they were gone.

“I wasn’t very close to anyone but Steve, but I do understand how you feel.” He told her, leaning across the table to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Do you live in the city?”

“I live pretty close to Hell’s Kitchen.” She told him, watching as he nodded. “I’m guessing you live in Brooklyn?”

He looked a little surprised, but still smiled. “How could you tell?”

She smiled back, a little shy. “Some part of me just knew, but the other part of me heard Steve talk about Brooklyn all the time. He loved it there, and I guess I thought you did too.”

“It’s definitely still amazing, but a lot has changed. I’m still getting used to it all.” Bucky confessed, putting down some money for the coffee as they both finished and stood up from the table.

(Y/n) checked her phone and sighed at the time. 3:30 in the morning, and there was no way she was going to sleep now. Now, she was going to ride the train and hope that the rocking of the subway would be enough to turn her mind off for a while. “I should get going. It’s getting late, and I’m taking the train back.”

He nodded, seeming a little uneasy that she was about to leave. “Do you maybe want my number? We could meet up someday, maybe get to know eachother better?”

She grinned as she handed him her phone. “Put your number in.” She told him as they traded phones, smirking as she put in her contact. “I put my information as (Y/n)-Soulmate, just in case you seemed to forget.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget.” Bucky chuckled as he looked at her contact. “Promise you’ll call?”

“Considering the fact I’ve known you for a few hours, and I’m already completely head-over-heels for you, I don’t think you have to worry.” (Y/n) told him, leaning up and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye for now, but not bye forever.”

Bucky was grinning like an idiot, and he knew it. “I like the sound of that. I still just can’t believe I found you after all these years.”

“You better believe it, because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

MASTERLIST

#bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky x reader #marvel #reader insert #reader #bucky imagine #falcon and the winter solider #winter solider x y/n

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