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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

⋆⋆✵ Perfect Imperfections ✵⋆⋆

Chapter 1

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

No one tells you how easy it is to imagine yourself in love with a beautiful man. Especially when you don’t have a clear understanding of what love actually is.

When I met Jungkook, even knowing he was in love with my sister hadn’t done much to douse the flames of hope and attraction. He was a lot of things that other men in my life weren’t. Kind without being pitying. Concerned without being overbearing. He took care of me without making me feel helpless. And there was always such a thin line between these things that I found myself impressed by his ability to toe the line so well.

Jungkook took care of me without making me feel like a burden and I suppose, some part of me had assumed that this could, in due time turn into love. But I was clearly wrong.

Jungkook and Liza had been kissing in the hallway of their hotel room and someone had taken pictures. My father and his had managed to get them taken down but the news was already out, spreading like wildfire . My phone began ringing sometime around eight in the morning and hadn’t stopped. It was now a little past one in the afternoon and I felt queasy, despite the assurances that it was all being taken care of.

It was the pity in everyone’s face that I couldn’t bear.

I wasn’t hurt. Angry, yes? Upset? Of course. But I wasn’t hurt because there really was nothing to be hurt about. Jungkook didn’t love me. He was in love with my sister . He had made it clear, through his words and his actions, over and over again. At this point, I could see this debacle as nothing more than a possible way to get out of the marriage. Perhaps, my father would approve of a divorce?

I glanced at the article again.

The photo is just so annoyingly clear, I thought with a grimace. If it was a little blurry, I could convince myself it wasn’t him and her. But it was clear. That was my husband with his lips locked with my sister’s. Against my better judgment, I read the article again. It was a gossip column, of course there would be nothing good in there. But sometimes curiosity can be a persistent thing.

I felt my skin crawling as I realized that the phrases were all pretty true. There was no gossip here. Just plain facts.

And then my eyes reached the end of the article.

Of note is the fact that Jeon Jungkook’s wife is disabled and perhaps the virile young man is merely looking for pleasure he can’t find in his own marital bed.

I swallowed, quickly exiting the page and tossing the phone on the bed, away from me. I stared out of the window of our bedroom, the large doors left open to let air and sunlight in. There was a tall sycamore tree right outside out bedroom and the branches almost reached in and I stared at the rustling leaves, trying to scrub my mind clean of the words I’d just read.

But it was impossible.

It wasn’t something I hadn’t thought of. The stark difference between me and Jungkook, physically. He spent five days a week in the gym and they were right. He was a young man with healthy sexual appetites.

I’d never cheat on you. Jungkook’s voice from a week ago still echoed somewhere inside my skull.

I sighed, playing with my wedding ring.

I wasn’t a virgin when I married Jungkook. Hadn’t been one , when I got into the accident either. My then boyfriend, a tall strapping lit major had been a very sexual guy as well and our libidos had matched pretty well. But I’d been an athletic nineteen year old, able to bend like a pretzel at his whim and there was just endless time and endless stamina and just a whole lot of attraction . We had spent hours, exploring each other the way college kids do. Weekends in bed spent trying every possible permutation of sex positions and kinks and I’d discovered all the things I liked. All the things I didn’t.

But then the accident had happened and well, when you’re in crippling agony, sometimes sex takes the backseat. I’d been focused on my recovery, on making sure that I came out of this at least with the ability to walk and I’d succeeded. Burying the part of me that craved a man’s touch, it wasn’t easy but it was necessary.

And then Jungkook had happened.

Sex with Jungkook hadn’t been difficult. Not really. I wasn’t completely crippled after all but it was also nowhere near as exciting as it could be with someone who had full use of her legs. I knew that. It was kind of obvious. But I hadn’t dwelt too much on it because to be honest, Jungkook hadn’t looked like he’d minded. He had seemed to enjoy himself .

But then reading about how he probably hadn’t enjoyed it definitely stung.

Worse yet, probably half the country was reading it with me. I felt nauseous. Did no one think that they should have left the last part out of that article? It was terrible enough without adding that bit about me.

A faint buzzing made me turn to the bed.

I glanced at my phone as it rang, my father in law’s name prominent on the screen.

Showtime, I thought with a grimace.

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

“I suppose it was too much to hope for , expecting that boy to keep his dignity. This is outrageous.” Mr. Jeon’s loud voice rang through the foyer of the house and I flinched, gripping the edge of the futon as Sana jumped a bit . She sat next to me, holding my hand carefully. Moral support I supposed but I was feeling entirely too blasé about the whole thing. None of this was unexpected, I thought miserably and I wasn’t feeling up to pretending otherwise.

“I still wish they’d talked to me about this.”

My brother in law’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. The man looked like he’d been dragged through hell and back and I felt a pang of genuine sympathy. He looked wrecked and it was obvious she was in love with my sister. Resentment coiled thick and deep inside me. Resentment and envy.

With no effort at all she had charmed both the Jeon brothers, I thought bitterly.

Jeon Jihyun looked absolutely stricken at the thought of losing his wife.

“I’ve asked Lisa to take the first flight out. She called me this morning, hysterical. It was something done in the heat of the moment. She .. She’s very apologetic. I believe her and I’m willing to forgive her. We’re…. We’re thinking of starting a family together. ” He said softly and my stomach turned.

I felt my skin go ice cold as I wrapped my arms around myself. Shivering just a bit, I lightly squeezed Sana’s hand. She looked at me in askance and I had to swallow to get my voice out, throat dry. The words made me want to retch. I could imagine how Jungkook would take this news.

“Can you get me my shawl? It’s in the green room.” I said hoarsely. She bowed before moving away from me and when I looked back up, Jihyun’s gaze caught mine.

“This must be hard on you.” He said softly and I flushed, staring down at my knees.

“Not like I can run from it. Literally or figuratively.” I smiled without mirth.

“Jungkook is …he’s just confused. He needs some time to sort himself out. I’ve asked him to take a break and come back to Seoul after a couple of weeks. The separation would do him some good.” Jihyun said quietly and I sighed before nodding. What else was I supposed to say to that anyway? There wasn’t much I could do, my influence on things almost nonexistent at this point.

“Are you going to give the boy a break, Jeon?” My father demanded, staring at Jungkook’s father who sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been trying to get these damned reporters off our back. They’re all over the place. And yes, I think Jungkook should stay in Japan for a while. We’re starting a new distribution branch there and I wanted him to scout places and possible vendors. I’ll tell him to hash out all the details before coming back.”

His phone rang again and he excused himself . I watched him leave the room, trying to make sense of his words.

How long would it take to build a whole branch in Japan? I had no clue. But it could hardly be done in a few weeks, could it?

“That’s.. That’s a long time.” I said hesitantly and my father frowned.

“is that a problem?” he asked.

I sighed. There was no point keeping this to myself. I was supposed to go to the doctor’s tomorrow. And well, it would be better if they heard it from me first.

“I.. I’m pregnant.” I said quietly.

The silence that followed was deafening. I stared at the carpet, not able to bring myself to look up at them. I could guess, what I’d find there. It was what I always found in people’s faces.

“Oh, sweet child.” My father’s sigh made me look up and there it was. The pity. I felt sick to my stomach. Sana returned, settling the hand knit shawl over my shoulders and I wrapped it tight, before glancing at her in some desperation. She smiled reassuringly, settling next to me and gently taking my fingers in hers. The warmth grounded me for a second and when Jihyun growled, I stared at him.

“I… I didn’t know. Fuck, I’m going to kill Jungkook. This fucker…” Jihyung swore and my father sighed, clearly thinking hard.

“you can’t be staying alone now.” He said softly, sitting up and cracking his knuckles, and I swallowed. I wouldn’t bear it if they tried to take me back home. I had hated it there.

“ You must come back home with me.” He said softly but I quickly shook my head.

“ No.. No I won’t. I … Please.” I begged, the mere idea of going back to my childhood home a nightmare. My mother would kill me with just her sharp and vindictive words. I was in no shape to put up with her verbal and emotional abuse. It was one of the things that had made me agree to marry Jungkook in the first place.

“Well, you can’t stay here by yourself.” My father protested. I’ve been by myself my whole damn life, I wanted to scream.

“I’ll be fine. I have Sana and the others to help me.” I said tiredly. My father shook his head before turning to Jihyun again.

“Is Namjoon still working on his book?” My father asked him and Jihyun frowned. The name elicited a tug in my memory and I turned to stare at my father, confused.

“You remember him? He used to tutor you when you were hi High School.”

I had a brief flashback to dimples and almond shaped eyes. I remembered him vaguely. Very vaguely. But nowhere well enough to want him to live with me, alone or not.

“Dad…” I protested but he held a hand up to silence me, nodding at Jihyun .

“Namjoon? Kim Namjoon? ” He shook his head. “ I’m not sure. Why?”

“I think it would be good if he moves in here. His father was telling me that he was looking for a place to stay, now that he’s moved back to Korea. ” My father said softly, staring at me and I stiffened.

“Father…” I began desperately and my father shook his head.

“Don’t argue. He was a dear friend of yours. I don’t think you should be alone at a time like this. And I think Jungkook would approve. Like Jihyun said, the kid needs some space to sort himself out. Let him finish whatever business is going on in Japan.” My father glanced at Mr. Jeon who looked at me with guilt.

“I owe you an apology , on behalf of my idiot son.”

I looked away, not sure what to say to that. I hated the man quite passionately. Jungkook wasn’t perfect… far from it. But this man had taken a sledgehammer to my husband’s mind and heart at every turn. The disdain, the condescension, the sick way he favored his brother over him, the way nothing Jungkook did was ever good enough. It had all taken a toll on my husband. I had watched it chip away at Jungkook’s self confidence, at his mental health.

“I think more than anything, you owe an apology to your son. You knew he was in love with Lisa and yet…. You forced him to marry me.” I said quietly and the room went eerily quiet. My father rounded on me , eyes blazing.

“Leah!!! Apologize, now!” He roared and I looked away.

“You’re all the same. Ungrateful and entitled.” Mr. Jeon said sharply, before turning to his son. “ I’m leaving Jihyun-ah. Tell me when that wife of yours get home. I want to talk to her.”

He shared a half hug with my father before stalking off and my father grabbed his jacket as well.

“I’ll leave as well. Your mother is being quite hysterical. Apparently, all her friends are hounding her about the article.” He sighed and I nodded , watching him shrug on the jacket before nodding at Jihyun and then following his friend out to the front doors.

Jihyun stayed standing , watching my father’s form disappear through the door before turning to me.

“ Are you alright?” He said quietly, moving to kneel in front of me. Sana stood up, bowing before leaving and I watched her disappear into the hallway leading to the kitchens. Jihyun’s fingers wrapped around mine, brushing my knees and I stared down at him.

“The question is, are you alright?” I brushed the hair off his face. He sighed.

“No. No I’m not. I’m angry and jealous and very much filled with resentment towards my brother.” He said honestly and I laughed, tugging on his hand and patting the seat next to me. He straightened before moving to settle next to me and I leaned on his shoulders, sighing as he wrapped on around me, the warmth of his body comforting .

“Are you going to give your marriage a chance?” I asked carefully.

“She told me she was going to break things off for good. We.. We’ve been talking about it. Starting a family, making this work.” He said quietly. I nodded. It was understandable. Unlike Jungkook and I , Jihyun had a responsibility. He would need a son and even though people liked to act like they didn’t care much about gender, like they didn’t care much about having children , it was sort of an unspoken rule. First son of the house ? You had to have a male heir to carry the family name.

I wondered how that conversation had gone between Jungkook and Lisa. It didn’t really match the photo I’d seen.

“I suppose Jungkook probably put up a fight. He genuinely wants to end up with her. He… He tells me often that he loves her and can’t love anyone else. ” I wondered if I ought to feel embarrassed or insulted.

But the truth was, I was numb to a lot of things that had once hurt quite a lot..

The conversation with Jungkook about my pregnancy had definitely cleared things up for me. There was nothing there worth salvaging. Chasing something that wasn’t real , that was foolishness. Especially when I had a very real baby to think about. A child that counted on me to make the right choices.

“I don’t think he did. She spoke to me last night and said that he agreed. Of course that was before the article came out. I’d like to think she didn’t lie to me but I’m not sure.”

I sighed, settling in closer to his chest. He was warm and firm, solid and reliable. I wondered if it would have been easier, if my father had just married me off to Jihyun instead. Jihyun and I …we were alike. We had been friends , even from childhood. Had watched with fond adoration as our younger siblings had fallen madly, wildly in love. Jungkook and Liza had been drawn to each other from the first. Inevitable.

Jihyun and I were more carefree. We didn’t feel things that intensely and perhaps that was why we could sit here in the calm of the afternoon air, quiet and introspective when we ought to be furious and raging.

“ Should we run off together? You and i?” He said suddenly making me laugh.

“Very much incapable of running.” I reminded him with a grin and he squeezed my shoulder .

“I’d carry you.” He said simply.

“Where would we go?” I asked curiously, indulging the fantasy for just a few minutes.

“Somewhere far away. Maybe India? There’s so many people there and we could get lost in the crowds.”

“That does sound appealing.” I smiled and turned to look up at him. His face inches from mine, not as handsome as Jungkook but strong featured and kind. “ But I’m not alone anymore. I have a child.”

His gaze dipped to my lap.

“Yes. Jungkook’s child.” He said thoughtfully.

“No. Mine. Nobody else’s . Just mine.” I said quietly. Jihyun’s gaze softened. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of my head.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, echoing his father’s words.” On behalf of my idiot brother, I’m sorry.”

And where Mr. Jeon’s words hadn’t made any sort of impact, Jihyun’s made my heart clench and ache in the worst way. Self pity was something I loathed but sometimes, being handed the short end of the stick at every turn in life makes it impossible to not feel sorry for yourself.

Tears stung, welling up in my eyes and spilling over my lashes like water bubbling out of an aquifer.

I blinked slowly, not bothering to wipe them as they traced a path down my face, dripping into the fabric of my shawl. In a moment of clarity I wondered what Jungkook must be going through now. Nothing good for sure.

It definitely said something, that I still worried for him. Sighing, I let Jihyun hug me closer. I would take advantage of his kindness for a few more minutes. It had been a while since someone had held me like I mattered.

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

I called Jungkook that evening.

It wasn’t an easy choice but my heart ached and my mind raced with unanswered questions. I didn’t want to get lost in my own thoughts so I didn’t overthink it. We were still married. I was allowed to call him.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Where are you?” I asked quietly and Jungkook’s groan made my face heat up a little.

“I… Leah?” He sounded groggy. I glanced at the time. It wasn’t late.

“Are you sleeping?”

He didn’t reply for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry about what happened. We.. We didn’t do anything else. It was just.. it was a kiss. Just that.”

“Are you still in the hotel?” I asked quietly ignoring his words.

“ For tonight, yes. Dad wants me to stay with a friend of his. I’ll be going over to their place tomorrow morning.” He replied .

Silence followed for a few seconds.

“Namjoon is moving in tomorrow.” I said stiffly.

Jungkook didn’t respond for a minute or so.

“Yes. Father said it’s a good idea. And I agree. You shouldn’t be alone while I’m here. He’s right. Hyung’s a nice guy. He’ll help you out.” Jungkook said softly.

“Liza came home. She wanted to talk to me.” I said quietly.

Jungkook didn’t reply and I sighed.

“I told her I wasn’t going to talk to her before I talked to you. I don’t… I don’t want to say anything to her that I haven’t already said before. But I still want to know your thoughts on all this. Your plans, that is. I take it you weren’t happy with her ending things.” I said stiltedly.

Jungkook didn’t reply for a few seconds.

“Things between us ended a long time ago, Leah. It was over when we both agreed to marry other people. Maybe even before that, I don’t know… I … I guess I just didn’t want to acknowledge them.” He said quietly. “ She’s different, now. Even that kiss felt so wrong. She’s moving on. I’m glad in a way. She deserves better than me. She deserves someone like hyung. He’s better than me in everyway and-”

God I wanted to strangle him.

“So why did you kiss her?” I snapped. “ If you’re so generously letting her go why would you…” I stopped.

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. It was barely for a second.” He muttered. “ whoever it was must’ve been videoing us for a while.”

I had to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, this little detail made no difference.

“Right.” I sighed. “ So, you won’t be home for a while?”

“Six weeks at least.” He said quietly.

I tried to keep the disappointment down. I still wanted to see him, just to make sure he was okay. But I knew that was just the pregnancy hormones talking.

“Okay.” I said simply.

“How are you? Did you go see the doctor?” He asked softly and the question surprised me. I was half sure he had forgotten.

“No, not yet. Maybe in a couple of days.” I scratched at a small stain on my skirt. Lime juice and baking soda, I thought absently. That should get the stain out.

“Its pretty late. You should go see the doctor, Leah. I.. I looked stuff up. They say you have to be on pre natal vitamins, folic acid and iron supplements and you have to have a balanced diet. I called Sana earlier and told her to speak to our doctor and get a diet chart for you. She said she’ll do it soon. So , please take care of yourself.”

Jungkook sounded entirely serious and as always my brain felt muddled, unable to process why he did the things he did. He had looked things up about the pregnancy and that implied some sort of interest, didn’t it? But ….. he had also kissed my sister so what was I supposed to do with this?

“I’ll call you.” I said shakily, drained. I was done for the day.

“Right.” He said softly. “ Namjoon hyung will be there tomorrow right? Should I talk to him? He could take you to the doctor.”

“No.. That’s fine. I’ll manage.” I said quickly.

“You’re sure?” There was genuine worry there.

“Yes.” I sighed.

“Alright.”

Silence again. I exhaled shakily.

“Should I hang up?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah. Good night. ” He breathed.

“Good night, Jungkook.”

Click.

I stared at the wall, gently lowering the phone and placing it on the bed next to me.

She deserves better than me, his voice echoed in my head.

Well, so did I.

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

Namjoon looked nothing like the twenty one year old college student I’d seen a decade ago. I knew he was a successful novelist and I’d read all his books. They were mostly philosophical or commentaries on life and emotions. I enjoyed the way he wrote : melancholic and deep but also clear and easy to understand. It was like staring at a particularly deep pool, being able to see all the way down to the bottom because of how clean the waters were. But once you put your feet in, the depth always surprised you.

“That’s a lot of books.” I laughed, gripping the edge of the door frame as I watched him stumble under the weight of a crate full of bound books. Namjoon’s messy brown hair peeked over the top, and when he adjusted the huge load to stare at me, I caught sight of his handsome face stretched in a dimpled grin, eyes glinting.

“Research.” He grunted, straightening himself up and I watched the flex of his muscles as he carefully moved to place the crate down in one corner of the large bedroom that I’d had cleaned for him. It was on the west wing of the house, parallel to my own bedroom that I shared with Jungkook . Namjoon had spent three years working as a professor somewhere in Indonesia. And I knew that he’d spent a year backpacking all over Scandinavia. I stared at his tall strapping figure, watching him set up his writing space carefully, sorting out boxes and electronics.

He had driven here in his Range Rover and I knew all his clothes were still there in the back of the car.

“Should I ask the footmen to get your clothes?” I asked and he glanced up at me, frowning.

“Footmen?” He looked confused and I rolled my eyes.

“Namjoon…” I said chidingly and he grinned again.

“I keep forgetting you’re filthy rich. Makes me wish I should have beaten Jungkook to the game and bagged myself a rich wife.” He winked. It was a joke but there was no mistaking the hint of interest in his eye. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. Being married to Jungkook had definitely made me question the attraction I held for men so it felt good, having someone as handsome and whole and successful as Namjoon look at me like that.

“I’ll ask them to get your clothes. You should shower and settle in. We’ll meet for dinner tonight.” I said quickly and he nodded.

“You’re going to be okay heading back to your room? Let me know if you need help.” He pointed at my feet and I nodded. It was sweet of him to offer.

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

Dinner was surprisingly not awkward at all. Namjoon had a lot of interesting stories to share and I found myself clinging to ever word in rapt attention. He spoke about all the folklore he’d run into in different places, how he thought that no matter the culture, there were always some common things you could find in every one of them. He also talked a little about his next book, which he hadn’t named yet.

“It’s about second chances. Forgiving and moving on.” He said, taking another bite of his braised pork and moving to make another lettuce wrap.

“ Heavy stuff.” I said thoughtfully. “ Most of my writing is commercial. I just try to sell stuff to reluctant people. It’s not much but it keeps me occupied and it’s always nice to make money that you can call your own.”

“It’s because you don’t write for yourself. When you start writing for yourself, you can truly be who you are.” He said firmly and I nodded in agreement.

My writing in college had been vivid and bright and filled with life. But after the accident, it had turned grey and gloomy. The words seemed to drip with loss and longing and I didn’t enjoy it, because it was a reminder that I was no longer the vibrant, attractive fulsome girl I once was.

“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of.” I smiled. “ Being who I am. I would rather pretend I’m at least a little alright.”

Namjoon stared at me, thoughtful.

“You used to run track.” He said softly and I grinned.

“You remember.” I said, pleased.

“Of course I do and you were captain of the volleyball team as well. You used to organize all those hikes and treks and stuff.”

“Yes I did. I loved the outdoors.” I stared out of the window.

“Loved? Past tense?” He tilted his head. I stared at him, shaking my head.

“What kind of question is that.” I shook my head. “ Look at me. I’m not trekking anytime soon, considering how the last time ended.”

“You can still go out.” He frowned. “ When was the last time you went somewhere?”

I shook my head.

“Oppa…”

“Listen. You know me. You’ve known me for more than a decade. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you rattle around this old house like a ghost when you should be out there taking in all the sunshine you can get?” Namjoon placed his chopsticks down and linked his fingers together, staring at me.

I stared at him, and it was definitely there. The concern, the affection. Not that different from when I was sixteen and struggling to understand what pathos meant.

But now there was a definite undercurrent of attraction. Back then it had been childish, the wild crush of a teenager on her hot tutor but now, now I knew that he was so much more than just a hot guy.

“I’m pregnant.” I said softly, more a reminder to myself than anything else.

Namjoon grinned.

“We’ll steer clear of horse riding and alcohol. Anything else you can just let me know.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“I think I’m getting one now.” I deadpanned.

“Because you’re nervous.” He grinned.

“Because your dimples look too adorable.” I retorted.

He laughed.

“I’ll talk to Jihyun and we’ll go see your doctor first. Then we’ll go out and have a nice picnic.”

“Namjoon, I can’t…”

“You don’t know that.” He said firmly.” You don’t know if you can or can’t because you’ve never tried. Listen I love picnics and I love going out and I want company. I’m agreeing to be stuck with you for a while and the least you can do is give me company at a picnic. You know how big a loser I’d seem like if I went by myself?”

It was like I was sixteen again getting brow beaten into things by a tutor who just hated the idea of not getting his way. I shook my head fondly.

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

Fourteen weeks. Three and a half months.

I stared at the ultrasound, feeling a multitude of things, not all of them good. The baby was growing well and I had all my prescriptions filled. Namjoon had offered to come with me but I had refused. It was too intimate and he was still a stranger. I did take a photo of the ultrasound and sent it to Jungkook.

/Jungkook called me back almost at once.

“You went to the doctor?” He asked, sounding a little breathless.

“Were you running?” I asked, surprised.

“Not really. I’m supposed to be meeting one of the vendors for lunch and I thought I could walk to the restaurant but its farther than I thought.” He huffed.

“Everything’s fine. Baby’s due in July.” I said quietly.

“Summer. That’s good.” He replied. “Right?”

I hesitated. What did that mean? What did it matter when the baby would be born?

“Because winter would mean it being too cold . Summer we can take the baby out and stuff without worrying too much.” Jungkook said softly.

Oh.

“How’s work?” I asked awkwardly. The non conversation was getting tedious. There was just so much to talk about and it was obvious that both of us weren’t in the mood to actually ask or answer anything worthwhile.

“Did dad say something?” Jungkook asked quickly and I frowned.

“No. Why?”

“He wants me to join hyung in the corporate office. Leave the smelter units.” Jungkook sounded subdued and upset and I felt sympathy well inside me.

“Join him? As what?” I asked quietly.

“Head of the marketing department. I’ll be reporting to Seokjin hyung.” Jungkook had clearly started walking again, breath coming in little exhales.

“You don’t want it?” I asked confused, not sure if this was a good or bad thing.

“I mean… I have a degree in Business and Finance. Hyung’s the CEO , I was hoping I’d be the CFO.” Jungkook sighed, “ But I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t disown me altogether after what happened earlier.”

I stayed quiet and so did he.

“We need to talk . When you get back. You … I know you don’t like sharing about what you feel but you owe me an explanation.” I said firmly.

“I know. But I meant what I said when I left. I’m going to be there for you and the baby. You’re still my wife. That’s not going to change.”

I ran my fingers over the ultrasound.

“Did you also mean the part where you said you can’t stand me.” I said bitterly .

Jungkook didn’t reply.

“I… You know I didn’t. That was just something I said on impulse. I’m sorry. You’re… You’ve been nothing but good to me. And honestly, just the fact that you’re carrying my child is proof that I can definitely stand you.” He sounded just a little hoarse.

I bit my lips, staring up at the door when I heard a knock.

“Leah? I’m going to have some tea in the garden … You wanna come with?” Namjoon’s voice rang through the room and I froze.

“Oh.. Oh.. yes. I’ll be down.” I said quickly, nodding . Namjoon pointed at the phone and gave to thumbs up before moving back out.

“Was that Namjoon hyung?” Jungkook’s voice came over the line.

“Oh… yeah. Yeah, he’s… he wants me to have tea with him in the gardens.” I said awkwardly.

“That’s nice. You should go. Get out of the house once in a while.” I didn’t know what to say to that so I stayed quiet.

After another minute or so of silence, Jungkook cleared his throat.

“ I got that form you sent in for me to fill, about my medical history. I’ll fill it up and mail it to the doctor’s office. Is that alright?” He asked hesitantly. “ If not I can fly back home. If they need me in person or something.”

I frowned a bit.

“They don’t need you in person, Jungkook of course not. Mail it, that’s fine.”

Another pause.

“This is really happening huh? A baby. We’re having a baby.” The exhaustion in his voice was palpable and I wondered.

“Yes. We are.” I said simply, not having anything else to elaborate on. It was happening. I was torn between pleasure at having something to look forward to and guilt at forcing Jungkook into a role he wasn’t ready for. But , for better or for worse we were married. The child was his. It would be a Jeon.

“ I’ll do better.” He said quietly. “ With the little one. I’ll be better.”

Tears these days, sprung up out of nowhere I thought miserably, furiously swiping at my face.

“Leah?” His voice came over the line. “ Leah are you there?”

“I need to go.”

“Alright.”

“Take care of yourself too, Jungkook.”

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

Loneliness .

It’s such an odd sort of feeling. Sometimes you get used to it so much, that you forget all about it.

It stays , a part of you that doesn’t make much of an impression on you until one day, suddenly it becomes unbearable,

Until you get a glimpse of what it’s like to not be lonely.

And then suddenly it’s like a deep chasm of longing and desperation just opens up inside you, craving love and warmth and company with a hunger that feels like it can never ever be satisfied.

I’d never paid much mind to the fact that my life revolved around myself, my writing and the flowers in the garden. Not until Namjoon had come, demanding to be felt and seen and heard .

Namjoon hadn’t joked about not letting me rattle around the house. Our days were spent sprawled on the lawns of the Jeon estate, each of us occupied with our own writing . Namjoon typed away on his laptop while I preferred my leather bound notebook. It was oddly soothing, lying there on the clean cut grass, the sharp blades rubbing against my bare legs, as I leaned back against a tree trunk, watching Namjoon’s furrowed brows as he wrote.

Namjoon had changed in a lot of ways and yet he was still somehow just as I remembered, focused and often lost in his own head. He was a contemplative man and seemed to spend as much time reading as he did writing.

“There’s a poetry club that meets every Tuesday in Gangnam. Would you like to come with me?” He asked casually, about a week after he’d moved in and I considered it. The paparazzi had finally stopped hanging about the estate and Jungkook had called the previous night with a ETA for when he would be back.

Four weeks at most, he had said firmly and I wasn’t sure if I was feeling all that excited for his return anymore. Days spent with Namjoon were more exciting. He included me in every little thing and I was addicted.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this was probably wrong. Namjoon was sweet and kind but I was still married. But on the wake of that thought came the bitter reminder that there was nothing between Jungkook and I. He was in love with someone else. Why should I deny myself the joy of Namjoon’s company over a relationship that really wasn’t a relationship at all.

Namjoon treated me as an equal, teased and flirted like there was nothing wrong with the two of us living like this, together and away from the rest of the world and I liked it. It made me feel like perhaps happiness wasn’t such an abstract, unreachable thing after all. That perhaps I could find happiness like this. In friendship and mindless conversation with a man who didn’t see me as a burden.

“I’d love that.” I said with a smile, letting my fingers knit together with his.

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

“Scorned wife getting even? We spotted the recently cheated on Mrs Jeon getting cozy with a strapping, buff hottie in a private restaurant last Friday and we can’t help but wonder if perhaps the reclusive lady is trying to get back at her husband by flashing her own boytoy.” Namjoon read cheerfully from his phone, looking way too entertained as he showed me the zoomed photo of us holding hands over the dinner table .

“That’s quite the description they’ve put for you.” I grimaced, sipping my chamomile tea slowly. My father and Mr. Jeon had reacted with their usual anger, threatening to sue the gossip rag for libel but it was pointless. They would keep being intrusive rats. There was nothing much to be done beyond enduring them.

“My agent’s losing his mind. He’s been at me trying to get me to agree to book signings and public appearances and he’s pissed that this is the way I get introduced to Seoul’s High society. Poor guy.” Namjoon chuckled and I felt guilt churn.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I really didn’t think they’d be following me. I mean… usually they’re only tailing Jungkook but I guess with the whole thing with Lisa , they’re just looking for ways to make things worse.” I said hesitantly.

Namjoon hesitated, staring at me for a few seconds.

“We never really talked about how things are.” He said quietly. “ Between you and Jungkook, that is.”

I ran the edge of my chopsticks on the brim of my soup bowl.

“ There’s not much to say. He’s…. He’s still sorting things out. With my sister.” I smiled a little. It ached a lot less, I realized with surprise.

“They loved each other deeply.” Namjoon said softly. “ that sort of thing doesn’t go away that quickly.”

I nodded.

“Of course. And I’ve been …understanding of that. I like to think.”

“But its unfair to you. You deserve to be loved too. Fully and well .”

I leaned back to stare at him.

“Are you offering?” I laughed, teasing.

Namjoon didn’t smile, leaning forward instead.

“Depends. Will you ever consider leaving him, for me?” He said seriously.

My heart turned over inside me.

“Namjoon…” I choked out and he reached out and lightly touched my palm.

“I know how marriages work with people like you, so I think I should draw boundaries now, if I want to keep myself safe.” He smiled a bit.

“I’m pregnant. With his child.” I swallowed and Namjoon’s brows went up.

“I thought it was your child. Yours and no one else’s.”

I felt torn, staring at him and wanting to say that I didn’t consider Jungkook as the child’s father, not in the way most people did. But I also remembered my husbands determined voice, the way he kept insisting that he wouldn’t neglect the child.

“Its not about Jungkook or the child, Leah. Its about you. You married Jungkook knowing he was in love with your sister and that tells me that you listen to your parents. You don’t want to stand up against the rules set by our parents and I don’t fault you for it. But I can’t let myself fall for you, knowing you’re going to be bound by your obligations to yurr family.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t fall in love with me.” I said easily. “ You’re right. My family comes first. And whether I want to be or not, I’m bound to Jungkook for life. So don’t fall in love with me.”

He smiled and nodded.

“Alright then.”

“Do you want to move out?” I asked bitterly and he looked genuinely surprised.

“What?”

“You clearly think I’m trying to seduce you or something when really, I-“

“Hey. Hey, Leah…no. No alright, that’s not what I meant. These two weeks, it was amazing. I love your mind and you’re easily one of my favorite people on this planet. We’re friends. And we’ll stay friends no matter what but you must know why I said what I said. You’re a beautiful woman and I’m a lonely guy.” He smiled a bit, “ I just don’t want to make it hard for myself when you want me to leave.”

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

Jungkook arrived back in Korea on a cold, rainy morning and against my better judgment I let Jihyun and Lisa drag me to the airport. It was some kind of publicity stunt, that much I could fathom but I didn’t know if Jungkook was in on it. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, he had been busy wrapping things up with the new branch in Japan.

It was another bad day for my leg and I found myself leaning heavily on my sister, her arm wrapped around my waist as we walked over to the waiting area. I could already identify a few men with cameras staring at us discreetly. Paparazzi . I saw them move their cameras down to the now obvious curve of my stomach and I swallowed. I could already imagine the articles wondering who the father was : Jungkook or Namjoon.

“You alright?” My sister asked worriedly and I nodded, not looking at her. Lisa hadn’t been discouraged by initial refusal to speak to her, keeping at it till I finally caved and let her visit me at the estate. She didn’t love Jungkook anymore, she insisted . It was over. They were over . She wanted to give her marriage a chance. Very sweet and nice, that. And it was obvious that she wasn’t lying, what with the way she and her husband kept

Jihyun and Lisa had made amends with each other and it annoyed me that they seemed to be madly in love with each other all of a sudden. Like the past couple months hadn’t even happened. I stared down at my wedding ring feeling stricken. Was it unfair that I resented them for this? Why hadn’t the two of them thought of this, of breaking things off and moving on before the damn wedding. And then maybe Jungkook and I would have had a real marriage too.

Bitter and hormonal was definitely not a good combination I thought with a wince, fingers splaying on the curve of my lower belly. It was so odd, being pregnant. The extra weight somehow foreign but also …so soothing. The last scan had shown that I had an anterior placenta and that meant that I may not feel movements for a while. I didn’t mind, having found comfort in just tracing my palm over the bare skin of my stomach.

“There he is.” Jihyun’s voice made me look up and ure enough there he was.

It wasn’t the longest we’d been away from each other and yet, I felt my heart leap at the sight of him. He truly was a very handsome man, I thought miserably. And no matter what people said, it was infinitely more difficult to hate your husband when he looked that good.

Jungkook’s eyes caught mine first and I saw the way his gaze dipped straight to the curve of my bump. Even from the ten feet between us , I saw hi lips part in surprise , eyes going wide. It probably hadn’t felt real to him till now, I thought biting my lips as he carefully handed his bags over to the two chauffeurs who had rushed to help him.

Jihyun wasted no time in bounding over and hugging his little brother tight.

I glanced at the man who had been taking photos, pleased to see the surprise in his face. Was he hoping that the CEO would punch his little brother in the face ? Idiots. Lisa stayed by my side and I exhaled shakily.

“ Dad told me something and I want to know if its true.” I said quietly.

She didn’t reply.

I took a deep breath, still watching the two brothers embrace each other, Jungkook’s face buried in Jihyun’s shoulders. I could see him shaking just a little and I felt my gut clench.

“He told me that …that you never told him that you wanted to marry Jungkook. That when he suggested Jihyun you agreed at once.”

She looked away.

“Lets talk about this later.” She said quietly.

“Does Jungkook know?” I demanded. “ Because he spent that first month of our marriage cursing our father out for forcing you to marry Jihyun. Forcing. And dad says that he did no such thing. So what is the truth.”

Lisa didn’t respond.

“Jungkook knows.” She said finally, “ I told him… the truth. When we were in Japan.” and I laughed in disbelief.

“Was that before or after you kissed him?” I snapped and she looked genuinely pained.

“Leah, I never meant to hurt you or Jungkook.” She said shakily.

“My God.” I shook my head. “ I always knew you were a selfish, greedy person but I didn’t take you for being a liar and a deceitful coward. ”

She stared down at her feet.

“Yes. I’m greedy..” She whispered “ And you may not understand it now but I did it for you and for Jungkook.”

She moved away and I watched as Jihyun pulled away from Jungkook, still holding his arm as he held a hand out to Lisa. The smile on her face seemed genuine as she took her husband’s hand and I shifted my gaze to mine. Jihyun and Lisa walked away to their car and Jungkook stepped closer to me, his face stoic and impossible to read.

“Leah.” He said quietly, dark hair falling into even darker eyes.

I didn’t reply, merely stepping up to gently press my palms on either side of his face.

“Welcome back.” I said softly, before reaching up and kissing him full on the lips. Jungkook’s entire body went stiff as a board at the gesture but he didn’t pull away , thankfully. It felt cold and impersonal and barely lasted a few seconds but hopefully the man had gotten a few good shots. I closed my eyes for effect, running my thumb over the clean shaven curve of his jaw, before pulling away slowly.

I peered over Jungkook’s shoulder, just to make sure and sure enough, the man was moving closer to get better angles. I smiled a little. Good. That should hold these vultures off for a while. I turned back to Jungkook and his eyes followed my gaze catching sight of the man with the camera and his entire body seemed to go stiff with anger.

“Why did you do that?” He growled and I bit my lips.

“You know why.” I made to turn away but he gripped my arm, hard. So hard that I winced.

“What are you doing?” I asked panicking, glancing at the man who was still watching.

“Since when did you start pandering to those pigs?” He whispered angrily and I flinched.

“Your father wants to introduce you to the Board of directors this weekend.” I whispered quietly, “Most of them read the news Jungkook. The last news about us can’t be about you cheating on me.”

“That’s my business. And I’ll deal with it. We’re not doing this, Leah. I’m not putting on some kind of act just to please my fucking father.” He looked furious and the taut line of his jaw made me flinch.

“I’m sorry.” I said quickly, guilt churning inside me. He was right. I shouldn’t have done that without talking to him about it but I knew that the scandal with him and Lisa wouldn’t go down well with the Board. And the Board generally had a direct say on who got hired to top managerial positions.

“I just want you to get that job.” I said softly and he stared at me, stiff body relaxing marginally.

“Let’s just go home. Yeah?” Jungkook said tiredly and I bit my lips.

Less than fifteen minutes since he came home and we were already at odds with each other.

The most ill suited couple in the universe, I thought with a grimace as he stepped right next to me and wrapped a hand around my waist.

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

I had a very terrible tendency to forget taking my pills. So I generally left them by the bedside table. Stepping out of the shower, I found Jungkook sitting on my side of the bed, examining the bottle carefully. I tugged on the white t shirt I had on, suddenly embarrassed because it was Jungkook’s

I’d asked to borrow a couple over the phone, simply because I no longer fit into my own and the ones I’d ordered weren’t here yet. Jungkook had agreed but still, it felt awkward when he was wearing the exact same t shirt himself.

He turned around when I moved to the vanity to put on moisturizer for the night and through the reflection I saw his gaze linger on my attire.

“Aspirin? Didn’t know that was part of pre natal vitamins?” He said seriously and I blinked., surprised. I turned around to stare at him, licking my lips nervously.

“How much research did you do?” I asked, genuinely curious and he flushed.

“I had a lot of free time. “ He said defensively. “ These six weeks.”

I frowned, before turning back to grab the small pot of night cream from the draw.

“My blood pressure is a little elevated. My mother had pre eclampsia with my sister and they just want to be careful.”

“Pre eclampsia?” Jungkook’s voice was fraught with nervousness and I turned back to see him almost white as a sheet.

“Jungkook…I.. its nothing serious.” I said hastily and his jaw went even more taut.

“What do you mean its not serious? Do you even know what it is?” He demanded.

“Do you?” I snapped back, annoyed at being treated like I was an errant child.

“I know that it’s the leading cause of maternal death during birth.” He all but shouted and I flinched.

“Okay…that’s only in extreme cases.” I held both my hands up. “ it’s a bit too premature to be panicking over that.”

Jungkook opened his mouth, as though to argue but then seemed to calm himself down.

“When’s your next check up?” He asked casually.

“This weekend. But its okay, Namjoon is-“

“I’ll come with you. I.. I want to come with you.” He said quietly.

I stared at him, feeling too awkward to outright refuse.

“You have the meeting with the Board. This weekend.” I said softly.

“So?” Jungkook shrugged. “ I’ll just tell them your appointment and health is more important to me. Besides isn’t that what you wanted? The reason you kissed me at the airport? You want the board to think we’re happily in love. I think that would be an excellent way to show them that. ”

Jungkook stared at me , head tilted curiously, daring me to deny what I had old him myself.

Sighing, I nodded.

“Alright.” I managed a weak smile. “ You can come with me.”

“Namjoon hyung left today, you said?” He asked casually.

I nodded.

“I should send him a bottle of his favorite wine for taking care of you so well. You look good.”

“He did it because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed it.” I retorted, his words rubbing me just a little wrong.

Jungkook smiled although it was more of a smirk.

“I’m sure he did. But I’m here now. And I did promise you that I’ll be there for you.”

“For the baby.” I said sharply, not liking the way he looked. The things he seemed to b implying.” You promised me you’d be there for the baby.”

“And right now, said baby is inside you.” He grinned now and I felt my pulse quicken at the sight. Jungkook didn’t smile with me. It wasn’t something that happened. At all. “ So I’ll have to take care of you.”

I stared at him, biting my lips.

“What are you doing?” I demanded. “My sister told you she never wanted you so now you want to start fucking me again?”

It was cruel. A terrible thing to say and I regretted it at once.

The smile faded.

“What?”

“ I…fuck Jungkook.” I groaned.

“is that what you think of me? Need I remind you that you were the one who came to me all those months ago? I never…. I would never force myself on you, Leah.” He looked like he’d been stabbed and I heart clenched.

“Jungkook , I…”

“I’ve been honest. Through all of this I’ve been honest to you. I lied to your sister, I lied to my father and fuck I even lied to myself. But I’ve been honest with you , Leah.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?!” I cried out, despairing. “ You were in love with my sister and –“

“And she wanted to marry my brother.” Jungkook yelled, standing up and turning to me, eyes blazing. “ All along. Know what she told me Leah? That it was never supposed to be me. That five years of us being together…it was because she was in love with my brother and she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. She started dating me to make him jealous and when she saw that I spent so much time with Jihyun she stuck around . So she could spend time with him.” He shook his head.

I stared at him, horrified.

“Jungkook….”

“I thought I could never feel more pathetic than when I stood there listening her tel me how she never felt a single thing for me. But wow…. Thank you for proving me wrong. Because right now, standing here begging you to let me a part of the child we both made knowing you only see me as some kind of pervert just looking to get into your bed….” he shook his head,” I feel worse. I feel dirty.”

My throat went dry.

“You know what?” He moved to the closet and to my horror he grabbed a bunch of his clothes and a small suitcase. “ I’m going to go get a Hotel room.”

“What? No… Jungkook, wait!” I rushed to his side, grabbing his arm but he threw my hand off quickly.

“Ask Namjoon hyung to move back in. Better yet, tell dad the truth. That you think I’m disgusting. That the thought of me being in your life makes you sick. Tell him you want a divorce and-“

“It’s a girl.” I exhaled sharply.

Jungkook went completely still.

I swallowed, my heart racing so fast I couldn’t catch my breath.

I took a deep breath and moved to lightly touch his back, fingers splaying on the broad expanse of his shoulder blade .

He turned around at that and my heart lurched at the tear tracks down his cheeks. He looked wrecked.

“ A girl?” He whispered.

I bit my lips, nodding.

“We’re having a little girl.” He looked a little shell shocked.

“Yes. And hopefully, she isn’t as dramatic as her father.” I said softly, grabbing the dozen or so t shirts he’d pulled out of the closet and pushing them back into the shelves.

Jungkook didn’t protest, still staring into space, probably just taking the news in. I felt awful for one second because I hadn’t even cared all that much when the technician had told me.

I closed the closet door and moved back to the vanity trying to process all that had been said in the last five minutes, only to feel a headache come on. I would think about it tomorrow.

I finished braiding my hair when Jungkook’s voice came from the bed.

“If you don’t want me to intrude into your space you can tell me. I’m okay with only getting information about the baby.” He said quietly.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I turned to him slowly. i took a deep breath, considered that what i was going to say would likely change everything between us. But i had to.

I’ve always been honest with you Leah, He had said and I decided that perhaps he deserved some honesty in return.

“I think I’m in love with Namjoon.”

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

Author’s Note : these two are such a mess istg.

ooh i don’t have a taglist for this so please comment if you wanna be on it.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fics #bts smut fics #bts smut #jungkook arranged marriage #bts arranged marriage au #bts fanfic #bts smut fic #bts fics

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im-whatchamccallit · 3 years

Text

Fixed On//ATEEZ (OT8)

Pairing: ATeez (OT8) x Fem!Reader (Non-romantic)

Genre: Slight angst, psychological if you’re paranoid enough, majority fluff

Warnings: Mentions of stalking

Word count: 3.4k

You told yourself it was the lack of sleep from the three days you spent studying for your finals catching up to you, that the shadows you saw in your peripheral and the faint footsteps you heard behind you as you drowsily ran errands were simply hallucinations. You told yourself it was all in your head, but how could you believe that now that you were aware of him?

You had simply gone out to grab groceries, just a seven minute walk from your apartment that wouldn’t take any more energy from your already exhausted body, just craving a home cooked meal before crashing for the next two days. But you could practically hear his breathing as he circled around you in the produce section, feel his eyes staring at the back of your head while you selected a pack of beef and, now, you could see him clear as day as you trailed down the empty streets. You were tempted to stay in the grocery store to stall him, praying he got bored and left, but you made the mistake of going at 9:30 at night, the cashiers urging you to go as they closed at 10. Not a problem, you could just head home, right? But you couldn’t, the looming fear he’d find out where you lived making you whimper in distress. To add insult to injury, you left your cell phone at home because you didn’t think your trip would take so long and most stores were closed now, the street lights and your two bodies the only signs of life in the silent night.

You’d been walking for almost twenty minutes now, passing by your apartment reluctantly with aching feet and a spinning head, your eyes brimmed with tears as you tried to push on in case he caught up to you and hoping your $15 beef hadn’t gone bad by now. You need a miracle, something to ease your anxiety and get you home and away from the unidentified man. And, in the midst of your unfortunate predicament, you saw it: a 7-Eleven.

Your body picked up speed as you rushed inside, the place bright and lively despite only you and the cashier being present and the radio playing softly in the background, the tightness in your chest disappearing with each passing second. You gasped softly at the sound of the door’s chime, your head darting to see the hooded figure from before stepping inside and making an abrupt turn to the candy aisle. What now?

You tried to stay natural, moving to the fridge to pick out a soda that you didn’t want, glancing over to see the man adjacent to you mindlessly picking up bags of chips only to put them down once again, looking in your direction every so often to make sure you haven’t moved. And you did, floating about the store with no destination and him still on your tail, the teenager behind the register not caring as the both of you played a game of hide and seek that left your safety up to fate.

It seemed like you were hopeless but, for some reason, you were starting to get luckier as the night progressed, the door chiming and the boisterous chatter of men filling the fairly spacious convenience store.

“Get anything you want, we’re charging it to Hwa’s card.”

“Like hell you are! Pay for yourselves!”

Laughter followed the bickering of two of the guys echoed off the walls before they spread out, some going in pairs to different sections and some on their own, but the one standing alone in front of a rack of limited edition snacks just so happened to catch your gaze first. He was tall, wearing a coat that looked cute on him but made his upper body appear to be broad and muscular underneath, his face blank and firm as if he’s never smiled a day in his life. He was scary, and perfect.

Yunho’s lips were threatening to form a pout as he struggled to choose. Would he rather have a snack form Japan or Indonesia tonight? Both looked so good but he couldn’t bring himself to choose.

“I’ll get both.” He said under his breath before grabbing both bags, gasping loudly as a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Oppa, I thought you had work tonight!” You squealed in a faux happy voice, smiling brightly up at the wide and horrified gaze the man gave you.

“W-what?”

“Some guy’s been following me for a while now. Please, just pretend you know me.” You said in a hushed tone, smile faltering as you glanced over to the fridge you once occupied, the eyes you had feared all night staring directly at you, a soft whine leaving you as you peered back at the strange man you latched yourself to, praying he saved you in any way he could.

You gasped as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you until your head was flush against his chest, his once stoic face now adorned with a content smile.

“I texted you that I was free but you didn’t respond! I really wanted to see you tonight.” He said in a cute yet teasing tone, your head thrown back to see him smiling down at you, giving a subtle but clear wink to let you know he was on your side, your eyes stinging as you tried not to cry in the unknown male’s arms.

“How about we go grabs some snacks and head back to my apartment? I’ll pay.” He said with a gentle smile, your head nodding reluctantly.

You both made your way to the back of the store where his friends continued to joke and bicker, Yunho’s arm not leaving you for a second although his smile was gone now, eyes still puppy like yet hard.

Considering he was a fairly large guy, it was easy for the others to catch on to his presence but, upon turning to face their groupmate, they found themselves more focused on your meek appearance hiding safely under his arm. You could feel your face burning in both embarrassment and unease at the way they eyed you and the man.

“Who is this?” One asked, his hair a beautiful royal blue and eyes just as sweet as your large bodied savior’s, the way our eyes immediately diverted from his causing a few to laugh but the way you gasped in horror as your eyes locked with your almost hour long stalker, body trembling as you opted to look at the ground. You just wanted to go home.

“This is…. Princess! My girlfriend!” Yunho said, suddenly realizing neither of you knew each other’s names.

“If he’s holding you hostage, blink twice.” Another spoke, his eyes cat-like and face sculpted to reveal his dimples as he smiled playfully at you.

“Why’s it so hard to believe I can get a girlfriend? Bunny, go pick out something to eat. We’ll wait for you so we can pay.” Yunho said affectionately, giving a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder at the way your eyes widened in fear at him, his head nodding you onward as he silently told you he had a plan, eyes never leaving you as you cautiously moved to the glass casing filled with pastries.

“Seriously, Yunho, who is she?” Seonghwa asked, voice low as the other watched you closely. You were holding two plastic grocery bags filled with vegetables and meat, you were probably a university student based on your lazy but comfortable choice of clothing. Nothing about you seemed alarming, but your sudden introduction as Yunho’s girlfriend was enough to make them suspicious.

“Look at the guy in the hoodie. She said he followed her here.” He said in a hushed voice, the unknown man creepily moving close by you before closing in on a sealed pack of donuts but giving you a once-over now that he was close enough to get a better look at you.

You felt your jaw clench as to not cry out for help and set him off. He was only a few feet away from you now, able to grab and harm you just by extending his arm if you dared to alert anyone. That wasn’t a risk you wanted to take.

“Did he follow her car or something? Why would she stop here?” Wooyoung asked.

“Obviously she didn’t drive. She would’ve left her bags in her car if she did.” Yeosang responded, a few of their eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Wait, but the only grocery store nearby is almost ten minutes away.” Jongho chimed in.

“By car. If she walked, that would be almost 25 minutes.” Mingi concluded, their bodies running cold at the realization, taking in the severity of your situation.

You tried to seem casual, to make sure he was unaware of the sudden initiation of eight strangers planning to get you away from him as quickly as possible but, in the midst of your overthinking, you managed to wander off to the back of the store, eyes locked on the stands full of ramen in both impatient anxiousness and genuine wonder. There’s no doubt the beef you bought was no good at this point, and that constant walking you’d done really built up your appetite. You couldn’t let the boys pay for you, especially after offering their protection to keep you safe. But, you had your wallet on you, and you had to get in line with them anyways so they can pay for their snacks, so why not grab dinner for yourself while you were at it?

You mindlessly searched for the one you usually ate, even wondering if you should grab two in case you were hungry later while shifting to hold both bags of food in one hand, almost missing the set of eyes on you. Almost.

It felt like before when you were in the grocery store, body freezing as you listened closely but this time aware of the threating presence, only unaware of how close he was now. You slowly let your body rise, not wanting to let your guard down as you finally heard footsteps, the faint chatter of the boys snapping you from your daze as you tried to hurry back to them, yelping as you crashed into a warm body before you.

You held your breath, peering up cautiously before seeing a familiar and bright smile, his jaw slim but chiseled. He was the stranger’s friends, and he was cute. If you weren’t so worried about getting the hell back home safely, maybe you could’ve gotten a better look at each one to see if they were all this stunning.

“Uhm, P-Princess,” Seonghwa cringed at the pseudonym, not sure why Yunho couldn’t just ask for your actual name to begin with.

“We’re getting ready to pay. You got everything you need?”

You glanced at the bowl of instant ramen before nodding, Seonghwa eagerly taking it from your hands to leave it unoccupied, but that didn’t last long as he grasped it to guide you beside him, your sides practically touching. It was a bit confusing, it made you worried that your act would be found out by the mysterious guy following you. But Seonghwa was no idiot, his observation skills heightened since he was brought into your escape plan, trying hard to not send a glare to the creep standing in the place you were moments ago. If he hadn’t noticed him moving closer, who knows what would’ve happened to you.

“Hey, ready?” Yunho asked you softly, your head nodding once more as they began to hand their items to the still disinterested boy behind the register, your eyes examining their mannerisms.

You were a little wary about blindly asking for their help but, from the way they immediately took on the task to protect you by staying at your side, and even now as the short but equally as model-like blue-haired guy complained that he thought they were using ‘Seonghwa’s’ card, only to be met with teasing ‘Thank you, mom’ chants from the remainder which left him looking a bit disgruntled, you knew they were nothing to fear.

You moved forward as they trailed on to the side, setting down your ramen as Yunho kept his place next to you, moving to pull out his wallet but you immediately snatched your hand from Seonghwa’s wanting to give a quick apology but needing to pay before he had the chance to.

“Don’t worry, I can-“

‘It’s only a dollar, Princess, it’s fine.” Yunho said while handing cash to the man, a faint warmth creeping to your cheeks at how casually he used that newly established nickname.

You thanked the man as you grabbed onto yet another bag for the night, all of you eagerly leaving the store and into the parking lot, the suffocating atmosphere now dissipating into relief as you took in a breath of fresh air. That man didn’t follow you out, the ambience felt so light and fun with the group of men joking ahead of you as they walked to a van with a very bold ‘ATEEZ’ on the side, your jaw nearly hitting the ground.

You’ve heard of their group, their music everywhere yet never had the time or desire to actually look them up, which would explain why you didn’t recognize them immediately. Although, the cat-eyed one went viral not too long ago for his charismatic dancing and now, watching him and a tanned guy with a mole beneath his eye he pointed and referred to as ‘Woo’ laugh at something said by the blue haired man while the tall one, one that resembled a prince and fairy all in one, and one that looked scary until he showed a smile so sweet it managed to make him look more youthful, you realized they were all hot. And suddenly the intimidation you thought you were free from came rushing back to you.

“Hey,” The sudden voice pulled you from your thoughts, a yelp leaving you as you faced the first one you met, his smile falling a bit but recovering just as fast.

“Didn’t mean to scare you. Just need to know your address so we can take you home.” He held up his cellphone and a navigation system, your eyes wide as you looked between him and the bright phone screen. They could’ve honestly left you there once that man stopped pursuing you, yet they were still looking after you.

“Or I could call you a cab. We know you probably don’t want to be around a ton of strangers right now.”

“N-no! Thank you, so much, I’m just really thankful I found you guys.”

“Hey, it only cost us a dollar to help you, and I don’t think any of us would feel right just leaving you to protect yourself from that guy.” Yunho said gently.

His tone and eyes were telling you he was being sincere, not that you needed any more convincing to trust him or his friends. Not to mention he was right about you needing a ride home, reality kicking in that you still didn’t have your phone on you and, if your groceries weren’t completely wasted by now, you still had some time to save them.

With a small smile you took his phone from his hands, typing in your address and passing it back to him, your body turning to match his as you head towards the van, the faint sounds of the boys arguing over who would drive and all agreeing that none of them wanted to, leading to an intense game of rock-paper-scissors that Yunho gladly stayed out of, a small giggle threatening to erupt from your lips.

“By the way, you guys don’t feel like strangers. Especially with your group’s name plastered on the side of your car.” You joked, a simple ‘Ah’ leaving him as you stared at you with a smirk, almost a silent way to say he’s discovered your dirty secret.

“You know, at first I thought you were a fan or something and that’s why you came up to me. I didn’t think I’d be right.”

“Uh, actually, I don’t know anything about you guys. I didn’t know you were ‘ATEEZ’ until I saw, well, that.” You gestured back to the vehicle where the boys began to disperse and enter the car, but the loud and bitter comments of them not wanting ‘Mingi’ to drive filling the air followed by an authoritative ‘Do you wanna do it?!’ from the blue-head. Were they aware of how unintentionally funny they were?

“Well, in that case, I’m Yunho.” He smiled, a genuine one that made you breathe out in contentment.

“I’m (Y/n).”

Your introduction was brief, followed by a silence that was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, lingering in the air as you both made it to the van, easing your way inside and finding a seat next to the blue-head and prince-faced boy, giving a small nod and smile that he shyly returned, the three boys behind you too preoccupied in their phones to acknowledge you and, suddenly, the silence gone as Yunho spoke up from his awkward position of setting up his phone to the dashboard, the faint voice of the navigation arising in the background.

“You should introduce yourselves to (Y/n)!”

“Her name’s (Y/n)?” The one in the driver’s seat asked as he started the engine, peering to you from the rear view mirror with bright eyes before putting the car into drive.

“My name is Mingi.”

“I’m Seonghwa.” The guy from the passenger seat said to you as he turned to wave.

“I’m Choi San.” Cat eyes said from behind you, giving a dimpled smile that you easily returned.

“I am Jongho, and this is Wooyoung.”

“Hey! I can introduce myself!” You jumped slightly at the boom of ‘Wooyoung’s’ voice, giving a bewildered look at how fast he went back to his calm and charismatic self.

“I’m Wooyoung.” He reached his hand out to you, which you slowly took as you tried to calm down the giggles bubbling inside of you.

“Yeosang.” The one beside you said meekly, not giving you eye contact as he scrolled through his social media.

“And my name’s Hongjoong!” The blue-haired guy said, giving an enthusiastic wave that was slowly swallowed by the oversized sweater he wore, your breath caught in your throat from how cute he was.

“It’s nice to meet you all and, thank you, so much, for helping me tonight.”

“It’s no problem, we just wanted to make sure you stayed safe.” Mingi stated. You would’ve thought his deep voice would be drowned out by the van’s engine but you heard him perfectly.

“But what made you think we weren’t the creeps? You’re probably in a car full of murders and you don’t even know it-“

“Shut the hell up, Wooyoung, you’re scaring her!” Seonghwa yelled from the front, a hand landing on top of your head to give a small ruffle, your eyes following it to Hongjoong who peered past Yeosang’s head to see you.

“Don’t worry, we’re all good guys.”

“He’s lying! He yells at us all the time!” Jongho whined with a pout, slowly letting it grow into a smirk as Hongjoong glared at him playfully.

“Because none of you listen!” Hongjoong snapped back, an amused laugh from San echoing through the vehicle.

“Oh no, dad’s mad.”

“I’m stuck with ungrateful kids, of course I’m mad!” You couldn’t help but laugh, their bickering growing by the second as the car ride progressed.

It was funny how quickly they forgot there was a stranger riding with them, having conversations that you couldn’t understand about an idol life that you had no part in, Yunho attempting to remind them of your presence to make you feel included, eventually leading you to discuss university life that they couldn’t quite understand and, as mundane as it seemed, was still a bit entertaining.

You could see the familiar street light with a poster for part-time employment at the nearby seafood shop taped to it, signaling you were approaching your apartment a lot sooner than you expected and, as relieved as you were to finally be home and to relax from the horrifying encounter you had, you didn’t want to leave.

These boys, as loud and strange as they were, were peaceful to be around and a comfort you didn’t know you needed. You weren’t really aware of ATEEZ, who they were or the music the produced, but you knew they were good people, and maybe this night was enough to keep your mind fixed on them.

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shyficwriter · 3 years

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Temporary Home: Chapter 13

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Nick Fury and Maria Hill

Summary: Seems like that visit had quite the effect on you, enough to send you on a semi-bender. Should they step in? Should they leave it alone? Furthermore, what secret accidentally gets leaked to Yondu while this happens?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thank you to @allylin05 for the scene suggestion (where Reader couldn't reach something!) And thank you to all the others who have suggested scenes they’d like to see in this series! (I’m still working them in!) As always, if you have a cute little scene you'd like to see in this story, feel free to send me a request! It might take me a bit to work certain things in, but I’ll try to add as many as I can! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 21 of the Guardians living with reader.

Word Count: 5,635

The guardians were getting concerned.

This was different from the other times you'd get sulky and avoid the others. Ever since that night that the couple came to the house, you had barely said a word. All you did was curl up in your room, and when you weren't doing that you were drinking.

They tried a couple times to pull you out of it, to no avail.

For instance, they had decided to begin sparring practice again after Fury's last visit. Two weeks was enough of a break, and they couldn't just sit around going soft while they waited for the negotiations to finish. If they ever did. The first couple times you had refereed for them, seeing as you couldn't join in the actual sparring with your arm injured, but each time they tried asking if you'd like to ref again after the night the couple came, you had refused, not even looking at them as you lay staring at the ceiling or curled on your good side.

Mantis tried using her abilities on you, like she did to make you feel better when Fury punished you, but you barely let anyone near you, and you certainly wouldn't allow anyone to touch you. You either pulled away or sternly told the offender to leave you alone, or in Peter's case, when he got the 'brilliant' idea one morning in the kitchen that you might cheer up if he tried tickling you, a swift knee to the crotch.

Either way, Mantis knew better than to push it. She had a feeling it wouldn't work this time anyway. The effects of her abilities were only temporary, it wasn't a cure. She can ease sadness away for a little while, and if someone was just a little sad they might still feel better even after the effect wore off, but if that sadness was too deep it would only wash back in once the person was no longer subject to the effects of her abilities.

A few times you could be heard walking around the attic, and a couple of those times sounds could be heard like you were throwing things across the room. One of these times one of the gang finally got the courage to go check on you, but they found you had locked the door behind you.

It seemed the "attic is off limits" rule still applied even when you were up there.

This annoyed Rocket, who had been reminded by this recent development that he had never gotten around to sneaking up there to prove to Groot that there were no monsters up there. The fact that you had been throwing stuff around up there didn't help that matter, only convincing the little guy that the noises were in fact coming from the monsters. After a few times of this he angrily went into your room, intent on getting the key and going up there to yell at you for scaring Groot, only to be disappointed to find that the key was no longer in the drawer and annoyed with himself that he wouldn't have thought that you'd have taken it up with you.

The third day of this Gamora pulled Peter aside. They knew Fury would be coming the next day, and she didn't know if telling them would only make matters worse. Did they tell, or stay out of it? Unfortunately Peter didn't have the answer either, he only hoped that'd you'd sober up by tomorrow. He didn't know what was going on with you, but he'd hate to see you possibly get into more trouble with SHIELD because of it.

There was also a bit of a selfish concern for them as well. What if Fury decided you were unfit to look after them and keep them hidden? Would SHIELD remove them from your responsibility and need to split the team up to hide them?

Later that night you left your room and headed to the cellar to pull yet another bottle of whiskey up and take it into the kitchen. No one was in there, just as you hoped. Unfortunately that didn't last forever.

You were mindlessly scrolling tumblr on your phone when Yondu sat down in the seat next to you at the table.

"Mind if we join ya?" he asked.

You glance up to see Kraglin had also sat down, and you wordlessly scoot the bottle in their direction to indicate you didn't care and went back to scrolling and sipping from your own glass.

"So how long are ya planning on taking this bender?" Yondu asked.

You glance up with narrowed eyes and as if to spite him grabbed for the bottle again to top off your glass before putting it back.

Yondu looked displeased. "That ain't an answer." he said cooly.

"Best you're gonna get," you say, slurring a bit.

Yondu leaned back in his chair with an expression Kraglin recognized. It was the same one he used to wear when someone thought they could get away with mouthing off to him. The look of mild bemusement that usually preceded a whistle or a scolding. Only this time he didn't do either.

"Why don't ya tell us what's eating you?"

Your eyes flicked up but you didn't answer. You didn't want to talk. You were sleepy. It was none of his business anyway. What came out was an elegant, "Nothing... your face." This was followed by your also very elegant flipping of the bird before you reached for your glass again.

Yondu, seeing you were clearly past drunk, got to it first, sliding it out of your reach. "I think you've had enough, little lady."

You pout at him. "Give that back."

"No." he responded flatly.

"Dick," you mumble, lowering your head to rest on your good arm on the table.

"Yeah, sit there and pout. That's gonna help." Yondu snarked.

You didn't answer.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you, pipsqueak." Yondu scolded, sort of hoping that the childish name would get a rise out of you.

No answer.

"You think she passed out?" asked Kraglin.

Yondu reached over to grab your wrist, intent to do the whole lift and drop thing to see how out you were, but you only whined on contact and swatted him away, mumbling something about sleep.

"That answer yer question?"

Kraglin shrugged before nodding to the bottle. "I'm gonna get a glass, want one?"

Yondu nodded, not taking his eyes off you until Kraglin came back with a couple glasses and poured the two of them a drink. Something was definitely eating at you, and the way you were dealing with it just wasn't healthy. Even as a Ravager he still knew that. Sure, it hadn't stopped him from going on a few of his own benders over the years, but it didn't mean he had to just watch someone else go through one. Unfortunately he had no solution. Closest he had to one was cutting you off, which he'd already done, and getting you to talk about it, which you wouldn't, and if you were unwilling then there wasn't a whole lot more he could do.

He and Kraglin sat there for a bit, sipping their drinks and killing time with idle chit-chat. They could hear a movie playing loudly from the sitting room. Probably something from that Netflix Rocket had turned on. No matter. Didn't bother them any. Clearly wasn't disturbing you as you slept at the table.

That is, until the sounds of a crying baby sounded from the film.

Yondu noticed you groggily sit up and rub your eyes. You lightly smacked his arm and, still half asleep, mumbled out, "You fetch the baby, I'll make the bottle, ok?" With that you pat him on the shoulder as you sleepily went to stand.

Yondu's eyes widened in a mix of shock and confusion. He shared a quick look with Kraglin. He had heard it too and his face shared the same sentiments. Baby? There wasn't any baby to fetch??

Before you could stumble away to prepare a bottle he was sure didn't exist, Yondu grabbed your good arm to stop you. "Hey there, where ya think yer goin'?" he said, his eyebrows knitted together. He really hoped this was just some sort of drunken sleepwalker dream on your part, and not you acting on some instinct he was sure there'd only be one way for you to have had. He tried gently shaking you.

You blinked a few times, finally seeming to wake up enough to remember where you were and who you were with, who had hold of your arm.

You didn't see your loved one's face, as you expected. Instead you saw a blurry blue that focused just enough into Yondu. You did still, however, hear the cry of a baby; but it wasn't- you knew it couldn't-

Yondu saw how you looked up and realized the sound, and how your expression changed from sleepy and confused to downright anguished. Your lip quivered and his eyes widened. 'No no no, none of that!' he thought, realizing you were starting to tear up.

You pulled your arm away and covered your mouth, turning so you wouldn't face him as pain tore at your drunken heart.

Yondu stood and caught you by the shoulders, spinning you towards the door at the far end of the kitchen, saying, "I think it's time fer bed! Someone's had a lil' too much t'night." He tried to keep his tone light-hearted, but he shot a glance back to Kraglin as he walked you out of the room. They didn't need words to convey what they were thinking. It seemed they might have just become privy to a bit of painful information you hadn't meant to share.

Yondu guided you up the stairs to your room, all the while he could hear you sniffing.

The clumsy opening of your door startled Mantis awake. She sat up and rubbed her eyes to see Yondu guiding a teary-eyed you into the room.

"Back to sleep, Bug." Yondu said. "Nuttin' to see here. She just had a little too much whiskey.

Mantis ignored him and stood from her bed, approaching the two of you as he tried to persuade you into sitting on the bed. Of course, being drunk and upset you weren't exactly very compliant. You kept trying to walk towards the attic door, much to Yondu's dismay and annoyance as he kept trying to tell you you needed to sleep it off.

Mantis watched the scene and knew what she needed to do. Before Yondu could say anything she had already reached out to your forehead and whispered, "Sleep."

Problem was you were a couple feet away from the bed and you fell backwards into into Yondu, who's arms shot out to catch your dead weight just in time with an 'Oof!' He sighed and maneuvered your now unconscious form to your bed, saying, "Ya couldn't have waited to do that until she was closer to the bed?" He wasn't angry, but a slight annoyance still coated his words.

Mantis twiddled her fingers sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Yondu stood, having managed to lay you flat on top of the bed. "It's fine, Bug. I know you was only tryin' to help."

"Is she going to be ok?" Mantis asked. "That's the third time I've had to do that in as many days."

Yondu raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"At night, when she doesn't think anyone can hear her, she cries. It started after that couple came and said those things to her through the door. I put her to sleep so she doesn't cry." Mantis walked over to your sleeping form and placed her hand on your forehead. Her antennae glowed and she described to Yondu what she read from you. "Her heart aches. She's angry, she's sad, but mostly she mourns."

Yondu swallows. Remembering what had just happened downstairs, another memory came to him. That night under your tree in the forest. He had said something about you maybe settling down and having a few little ankle-biters and then you... oh no. He had a suspicion that he knew what you mourned, and the thought made his heart clench. He still didn't know how that couple showing up might have triggered this pain in you, but if what he suspected from the pieces he could put together was true, then that was a hell of a loss, and it helped explain to him a little bit why you were the way you were. You were in pain.

Before Mantis could say more he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let's let her rest now, Bug."

***

You woke up earlier in the morning than you would have liked. You could blame it on your throat being dry as sand, the dull ache in your temples, and the feeling like your bladder was in a vice. Oh, the 'joys' of the morning after a night of drinking. Not nearly as fun as the drinking itself. Though, you were sure 'fun' wasn't exactly what you had had last night, even though you couldn't quite remember it.

No matter. Time to shower and get yourself presentable. Fury would be coming today for one of his weekly-check-ins and it'd be unprofessional to greet him wearing last nights clothes and possibly still smelling of alcohol.

Today you had a chance of being told you no longer needed the sling, so you tried to at least be happy for that as you gathered a change of clothes for your shower and thanked whatever higher-being that might be listening that the bathroom was free.

***

Fury showed up about mid-morning with the same doctor as last time.

You pretended to be a good little soldier and sat patiently as the doctor examined you, said you were free to remove the strap from your brace, and adjusted the hinge on your brace for the limited range of motion he would allow your elbow to move while it was still healing. You were given some therapy exercises to do and informed you were still under a weight restriction for that arm.

The first thing you did was utilize the full range of this new, albeit limited, range of motion, stretching your fingers and wincing as you tried to work a bit of the stiffness out.

Before the doctor had begun examining, Gamora quietly asked to speak with Agent Hill alone. They left the kitchen to speak in the hall mostly unnoticed.

"She took the brace off, didn't she?" Agent Hill assumed. "Knew it. She's so damn stubborn!"

Gamora shoot her head. "No, no. That's actually not it. It's something else."

"Really?" Agent Hill looked surprised.

"Yes. She followed all of Fury's orders. It's about something that happened the other day. This couple came to the house-"

Maria looked alarmed. "Did they see any of you? If you were compromised you shouldn't have waited this long to tell us."

"No, it wasn't anything like that" Gamora said, slightly frustrated with the interruptions. She explained that you seemed to know them, how you had closed all the curtains and shut off the lights just before they arrived and pretended not to be home. She told her how they had spoken to you through the door, and that you had been upset and closed off ever since.

Maria frowned. "Do you know what they looked like? What they said?"

Gamora shook her head. "I never saw them, but they said something about how something wasn't her fault, that they forgave her? I don't know what they were talking about, she wouldn't say, but she's hardly left her room since then and we're just a bit concerned and thought we should tell somebody."

Maria nodded. "I'll speak with her."

Gamora nodded in return. She got the feeling that Maria knew the significance of the couple's arrival, but wasn't going to say, so she didn't ask.

They returned to the kitchen just as the doctor was finished. Agent Hill requested to have a word with you in private while Fury briefed the Guardians on the lack of update on their situation.

You rose an eyebrow at her, but obeyed, and the two of you made your way out to the front garden.

Maria spoke first. "How long have we worked together?"

"Almost since I first started, you helped train me. Why?"

"And we've come to know each other decently well in that time, yes?"

You look at her, confused. "Yeah? What is this about?"

"You know you can talk to me, right? If something's wrong?"

"I don't need to talk-"

Maria rolled her eyes. "Oh yes. Ms independent. Ms 'I don't need anyone.' I get it. I do. But maybe letting people in every once in awhile couldn't hurt."

"Are you going to tell me what this is about or not?" you say irritably.

"One of your charges has expressed concerns."

You looked confused and surprised. "Who? Why?"

"Doesn't matter. And they told me that you had a couple visitors the other day. My informant didn't know who they were, of course, but I have a pretty good idea, especially after I was told what they said to you."

You look off towards the road bitterly.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Maria asked.

Your gaze shifted from her to the ground and back a couple times. Finally you relented. "They said they forgave me. What am I supposed to do with that?" Your gaze was hard as you looked into her eyes.

"Accept it?" Maria said with almost a laugh, her eyebrows knitted together. "Maybe take a page out of their book and try to forgive yourself?"

"But it was my fault," you respond.

Maria can see the pain in your eyes. Her eyes soften. "It wasn't, though. It wasn't your fault. You have to understand that."

"No, you don't understand," you say, pain present in your voice. "Put yourself in my shoes. Tell me, that if it was you, that you wouldn't believe it was your fault then!"

Maria didn't answer.

"That's what I thought."

"Look, I have the ability to see reason because I'm not in your shoes. I can see that it wasn't your fault. You can't hold yourself accountable for what other people have done to you."

You give her a hard look but don't respond. After a few moments you see Fury come out the front door with the doctor and you finally say to her, "Are we done?"

She follows your gaze to see Fury before turning back to you. You can tell she wants to say no, but she settles for, "I suppose. For now."

The two of you walk back towards the front door to meet Fury. He tells you that he's pleased to see you followed orders, but to make no mistake, he still has Gamora looking out to make sure to follow through with the doctor's orders until your arm is healed, or until he can trust you no longer need that type of supervision. Whichever comes first.

You begrudgingly nod and they leave, you heading back inside.

***

You had decided to not confront them about who told Maria about the couple. If she was right, and they really were just concerned, then you decided it was better to just not make them concerned anymore. No concerned Guardians, no one getting SHIELD involved with your personal life.

You decided to not head back to your room after Fury and Agent Hill left, rightfully convinced that it had been how you more or less hid away for three days that alarmed them. Probably the drinking too, but jury was out if you'd stop that or not. What were they going to do? Stop you?

Actually... you did have a faint memory of Yondu pulling your drink away from you last night... Oh well. You were sure they wouldn't do it again, but that was a question for later. Now, you were going to go check your neglected garden.

Only, when you got there, you found it wasn't nearly as neglected-looking as it ought to be considering you hadn't visited it in over a week. You cocked your head and raised an eyebrow. Who had kept it?

On cue, Kraglin spoke up behind you. "Um, hey."

You turn to face him.

"Hope ya don't mind. Kinda kept it nice for ya, while you were- you know..."

You were taken aback. "Oh- um. Thank you. You didn't have to-"

"I know." Kraglin said, rubbing the back of his head. "Back before we- Yondu an' me- joined Pete's team we were on a lot bigger ship. Lotta crew. We had an areas for growin' food on board, helped keep fresh stuff around so people didn't get sick. Anyways- used have to shifts in those areas some when I was younger. Still remembered how to do most of it. Figured I should make myself useful when you couldn't do it- Ya know, something to do."

You glance back at the garden. "I guess, um, if you like it, I could let you help me next time, if you want, then," you reply awkwardly. "You did a nice job- thanks."

Kraglin smiled a bit. "Sure thing. Beats sitting around."

You crack a smile at that and look to the ground briefly. "Well I guess I'll find something else to do now, since this is done." With that you walked past him and back into the house.

You get back inside to a commotion in the kitchen.

Mantis is crying and panting and fanning her mouth, Gamora is yelling at Rocket, and Rocket is laughing his ass off.

"What's going on here?" you ask, brow furrowed in confusion and concern.

"Rocket tricked Mantis into eating these," she showed you the jar of jalapeños, "and now she's in pain."

You sigh and glare at Rocket, who didn't look sorry at all. You guide Mantis to sit at the table and pour her a glass of milk, instructing her to drink it slow like you had Yondu when he ate them and informing her that it would help. At least you knew she didn't react to milk the same way he did. Gamora asked to make sure Rocket hadn't fed Mantis poison, but you assured her she'd be fine. It was food, just not something any of them were used to apparently.

Kraglin re-entered the house just then and took in the scene. A teary eyed Mantis sat at the table sipping some milk, and you stood behind her, rubbing a hand up and down her back comfortingly, yours and Gamora's eyes both shooting daggers at Rocket, who was still grinning.

You begin to scold Rocket. "What's wrong with you? I know you did that on purpose."

"You don't know that, how was I supposed to know she wouldn't like them."

Kraglin's eyes narrowed. He spoke up. "Now if I'd known you was gonna use them to be mean to Mantis there, I wouldn't have told ya when you asked me which was the hot things Yondu ate. She's too sweet for you to be mean to her like that."

Rocket gave Kraglin a look of betrayal. "Come on. It was just a joke. Did you really think I was asking because I wanted to eat them."

"I thought you was asking so you wouldn't eat them," Kraglin replied, annoyed. "not so you'd make the bug girl cry."

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Lighten up."

"What's with you lately?" Gamora asked. "You're not even this bad on the ship. You behavior has definitely gotten worse since we've been here."

"Has not!" Rocket denied. "If anything you guys have lost your ability to take a joke!" He crossed his arms. "And how come nobody says anything when Star-Munch and dumbass there-" he pointed at Kraglin, "-mess around, but I always get yelled at! It's like I'm the only one not allowed to have fun here!"

You tilted your head at Rocket, contemplating a bit before saying, "Are you trying to say you're bored?"

Rocket threw up his hands. "Of course I'm freaking bored! What do you expect!? There's nothing to do! I can't blow anything up, or make any weapons, or make weapons that blow up! This place is like prison!"

You hummed and nodded your head. "I see..." You had an idea. You were normally against rewarding bad behavior, but you saw this more as an.. olive branch of sorts. Maybe if you gave him something to do he wouldn't be so restless. Wouldn't be so... rude. Give him a toy to play with, more or less. You nodded towards the back door. "Come here."

"Fat chance. Like I'd go anywhere with you." Rocket scowled, crossing his arms petulantly.

You shrugged your shoulders. "Fine by me. I won't show you the workshop then." A smile tugged at your lips but you suppressed it.

Rocket narrowed his eyes. "What workshop?"

"You already know I built you that bed. Where did you think I did that? The bathtub? It's in the shed."

Rocket eyed you, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to trust you or not. Gamora and Kraglin exchanged pleasantly surprised glances, intrigued that you were offering an olive brach of sorts to the bratty raccoon.

"Ok, but any funny stuff and I'll bite your good arm off." Rocket said, moving towards you in an almost cautious manner.

You roll your eyes. "There's no reason why there would be any 'funny stuff.'" you say. You start to turn towards the door, but stop. "Oh, one thing before we go. Apologize to Mantis."

Rocket glared at you. It was clear he didn't want to, but after a few moments he made an attempt. In a sarcastic tone he said, "Oh gee, Mantis, I'm SO sOrRy-"

You cut him off. "Like you mean it, or I don't show you the workshop."

Rocket grumbled something you couldn't hear under his breath before begrudgingly uttering a, "Sorry, Mantis."

Mantis, whose mouth was now much less burn-y than earlier, told Rocket she forgave him and you headed back outside with Rocket to see the workshop.

Kraglin and Gamora watched as you went, completely surprised that that had worked.

***

You led Rocket to the shed and unlocked it, opening the door and motioning inside. Rocket hesitated, but eventually entered after you took the first steps inside to turn on the light.

A workbench ran along the length of one side of the room. On it sat a chop-saw at one end, and a vice as well as a small cabinet of little drawers where you sorted your nails, screws, and other fastenings. Above this workbench ran a series of shelves housing various drills and tool boxes and other odd-n-ends. Under the bench laid an old forgotten and broken step-stool you had never gotten around to fixing.

A smaller workbench sat on the wall opposite side. Above that was a pegboard where you hung different wrenches and screwdrivers and hammers, and above that hung a short cupboard.

In the middle of the room stood a table saw, and behind that, at the back of the room, is what caught Rocket's eye most.

You had a welding station set up, and he immediately walked back towards it.

"I didn't know you had this in here!" Rocket exclaimed.

"You never asked," you reply, slightly grinning at his obvious interest in the welding area.

Rocket looked the area over. It was covered in a layer of dust, showing that it had been awhile since anyone had used it. "This still work?" he asked.

"It should," you say with a little uncertainty. "I haven't used it for years, but I'm sure the tank still has gas in it. We could always find out. I take it you know how to use it?"

Rocket looked back at you. "Of course I know how to use it. It's just basic fire welding, not like it's a plasma welder or anything."

You raise an eyebrow. Apparently he knew his stuff better than you thought... "Ok then. Just let me find the striker..." You looked around the welding bench, but didn't see it anywhere. "Hm... must have misplaced it... let me look."

You walk over to the small workbench, looking in the drawers, but came up empty handed. You check the drawers in the long workbench. Nothing. You looked up at the shelves. Nope, didn't see it. You walk back over to the small bench to look in the cupboard above it. No striker. "I know it's in here somewhere." you sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Then you see it. The edge of the striker glinting from on top of the cupboard. "Damn," you say, your gaze falling to the floor before returning to the striker.

You reach up in vain, knowing you couldn't reach it from the ground, even on your tip-toes.

"Need some help, shorty?" came Rocket's teasing voice. You obviously weren't short compared to him, but it didn't matter. You could have been seven feet tall and he still would have used the jab.

You throw him a look. "Like you're one to talk! And no." You try reaching again and sigh.

"Don't you have a chair or something to stand on?" He was chuckling at you now.

"No." you admit, gesturing to the broken stool under the other workbench. "Never got around to fixing it. Normally I just-" you cut yourself off as you tried to reach up again.

"Just what?"

You sigh. "Climb. Ok? Normally I'd just climb up there, but um," you gesture with your arm in the brace, "kinda can't do that right now." You try reaching again, but you give up. That tactic was obviously never going to work. You look around. "Maybe I can find something to knock it down..."

As you look around you see from the corner of your eye Rocket make a couple jumps to get on top of the cabinet, where he then grabbed the striker and hopped back down onto the workbench and held it out to you with a cheeky grin.

You exhale out your nose as you take the striker and say, "You could have done that this whole time?"

"Yeah," Rocket admitted. "but watching you struggle was funnier."

You ignored him and headed back towards the welding area. Yelling at him never seemed to do anything but encourage him anyway.

You attached a brazing tip to the line connected to the tank, turned on the gas, and clicked the striker up to the tip. It took a couple tries, but the flame finally caught with a whoosh and you laughed in surprise. "See. It works," you say to Rocket. "And as long as you don't burn the shed down or hurt yourself, you can use whichever tools you know how to use."

Rocket eyed you as you turned off the gas, extinguishing the flame. "What's the catch?"

"I just told you. Don't burn down the shed or get hurt." After half a second's thought you added with a slight grin, "Should I add 'don't break my tools' and 'lock up when you're done'?"

Rocket scoffed. "I'm not gonna break your tools. If anyone knows how to care for tools it's me! Hell, they'll probably be in better condition after I use them."

You shook your head in amusement. "Alright." Little guy could be so dramatic. "I know there's an extra key somewhere in the house, but until then you can use mine, ok?"

Rocket nodded but then asked, "Why keep it locked?"

You look out the open door. "Force of habit, mostly... keeps kids from getting in and hurting themselves too," you say, adding, "You know, like Groot. Wouldn't want him to go playing around the tools and getting hurt."

Rocket nodded again. He knew Groot mostly knew better from being with him not to play with tools, but he didn't argue.

"Anyway," you begin again, gesturing to the neat stacks of spare wood and metal material in the corner. "Knock yourself out." you placed your key to the shed on the small workbench. "Key's here. Lockup when you're done and leave the key on the kitchen counter after, ok?"

Rocket raised his eyebrow. "You're trusting me in here by myself?" he asked, sounding more suspicious than confused as you turned to leave.

You turn back to him, slightly grinning. "You said you know what you're doing, and I've already been told you used to work on the ships, so that claim has already been vouched for, so... yeah. Unless you're gonna give me a reason not to trust you, that is."

"No, that's all pretty much right," he said, eyeing you, still seeming unsure. As if he thought it might be a trap.

"Then we're good," you reply. You to leave again when you're stopped by him asking, "What's in this for you?" You didn't know whether to sigh or laugh, so you settled for a mix of both as you turn back yet again. "I figured maybe if you had something to keep you entertained maybe you'd be less of an insufferable asshole."

Rocket looked offended and you laughed. "Now can I leave or do you have anything else to ask?"

"Nah," he replied, taking his eyes off you to now look around the workshop. "We're good. Um... thanks..."

The 'thank you' honestly surprised you, but you only turned your look of surprise away as you exited the shed and said, "Don't mention it."

Rocket watched you leave before turning back to check out the welding bench some more.

Yes. This was just what he'd been needing. He could finally repair the device he smuggled.

#gotg #gotg fanfic #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #yondu lives #yondu udonta #rocket raccoon #kraglin obfonteri #mantis #gamora

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sky-berrie · 3 years

Text

Goodnight - Damian

Summary: Damian pays you a visit at night ft. the one bed trope.

It was a typical eerie night in Gotham and as usual, you spent it alone in your room. You were completely engrossed in the murder documentary streaming on your laptop, the game of Tetris on your cell phone, and the barbeque potato chips you were shoving into your mouth. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you jumped right out of your seat and yelped when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Relax, Y/N,” said Damian, casually. “It is only me.” He was dressed in his Robin uniform. It was clean which meant that he was probably unharmed.

You scowled at him as your felt your heart beat wildly against your ribcage. Your eyes traveled to the open window. You were certain that you had secured the latch, added the anti-lift bar and activated the alarm not twenty minutes ago. Your newfound interest in murder mysteries kept you awake a night, so you amped up your security to give yourself some peace of mind. It should have been impossible for anyone to break in, but here Damian was, standing inside your apartment bedroom.

“Stop abusing your power like that,” you scolded.

“Stop leaving yourself vulnerable,” he countered, without missing a beat.

“I didn’t! Did you not see the steel bar and alarm?” you said with indignation. You had to wonder how he managed to slip in. In another life, he could be a magician, you thought.

“Indeed, I did notice,” he said. “It is quite the cute little system you have.” His smirk was as condescending as ever.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a big reaction out of you.

Damian’s expression softened. “I am glad that you installed that, though. Now I do not have to worry so much about you when I am away.”

You had no idea how to formulate a response to a comment that was not an insult or sarcasm. You awkwardly changed the subject instead, “So… you need something or…?”

Damian looked at you expectantly as if he was waiting for you to continue. “Do not end your sentence with a conjunction,” he chastised you. “Proper grammar is imperative for effective communication.” You rolled your eyes again. Sometimes he was insufferable.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. And sometimes he was almost sweet.

His gloved finger gently tipped your face upwards so he could inspect it thoroughly. You found his concern rather considerate until he opened his mouth again. Damian’s face contorted into an expression of disgust before he said, “You are beginning to look like Drake.” Although Tim was very attractive, you knew how Damian felt about his adoptive brother. His statement was not to be mistaken as a compliment.

You pulled away and rolled your eyes again. “Got it. You came here to annoy me. Mission accomplished. You ready to leave now?” You pointed to the window.

“I am being serious, Y/N, you look unwell…” He looked around your desk space with a horrified expression. “And I can see why. When was the last time you slept?”

“Uh,” you blew a raspberry as you thought about it. “Yester…today?” you said, but it came out as a question. Damian looked unimpressed. “No, today. Definitely today,” you stated with more confidence.

You could tell Damian didn’t buy it. “What day is it today?” he challenged.

Your eyes roamed around the room in search of clues. The date and time weren’t visible on your electronics. You took a stab in the dark. “Saturday.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “It is Sunday night.”

“Oh…” you pursed your lips sheepishly. Sometimes the days blurred together.

“That is it,” he said with finality. He closed your laptop. “You are banned from watching murder mysteries videos at night.” He went for your phone next. He raised it up for you to see your game of Tetris disappearing as he powered it off. “I am confiscating your phone every evening from now on.”

“What?” you whined, lunging out for your phone. Damian tucked it away and out of reach in the inner pocket of his uniform.

“You are getting time limits. Blue light disrupts your circadian rhythm - no laptop or phone after 10 pm.” He grabbed the crinkly chip bag. “And these, well, you really should not eat these ever. Do you know how much sodium is in this bag? Your arteries will know.” He tossed the half-empty bag into the trash can beside your desk.

“No!” You protested. He had no right to order you around.

“Yes,” he asserted. You watched him fluff up your pillows, tuck the sheets firmly under the mattress, and smooth out the bed spread. “You are going to bed now. Get in.” He lifted the covers for you.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckled humourlessly. You just wanted to finish watching the unsolved mystery of the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902 and be so terrified that you can’t sleep for the next three days.

“Y/N,” he said sternly, indicating that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument.

“Fine,” you grumbled. You knew Damian was stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You figured that you would get in bed to appease him and get rid of him, then you could resume watching your video.

You stomped extra loudly across your room to make a point. You huffed loudly as you crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up to your chin and tucked you in as if you were a little kid.

“Good night,” said Damian.

“Yeah, bye,” you replied impatiently.

Your eyes following Damian as he flicked off your lamp. Once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that Damian was taking off his Robin uniform. He stripped down to his undershirt and hung the tunic over the back of your chair before sitting down. “What are you doing?” you asked, raising yourself up on your forearms.

“I am going to stay,” he said, like it was the most normal sentence in the entire world.

“Um, come again?”

“I know you are afraid to go to sleep, so I will stay and make sure you feel safe… even though it is self inflicted fear and I ought to leave you so you learn your lesson. I do not know why you insist on watching murder mysteries knowing that you are going to be frightened.”

“While that’s a very nice offer, it’s also super unnecessary. I’m okay,” you lied. You couldn’t let him stay overnight in your chair just because you had an overactive imagination.

Damian raised a hand to silence your argument. “It is not up for debate. I will stay right here and you will get some sleep.”

“But you need to sleep, too,” you reasoned.

Damian shrugged. “I will make do here.”

Your throat was suddenly dry as you prepared to make a compromise. “You could… sleep… here… in my bed?” You prayed that he wasn’t repulsed by your invitation to share your bed. You and Damian were just friends but somewhere along the way your feelings changed. You caught yourself noticing things about him that you found attractive… like the way his eyes were so expressive and always told you what he was thinking… or how he carried himself with strength and confidence, even if it could be annoying sometimes.

You held your breath in anticipation. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. “Okay,” he casually accepted. While you were relieved that he wasn’t mortified by the thought of sharing your bed, you were a nervous wreck now.

You shuffled over to the very edge of your twin sized bed to make room for Damian. As he lay down, the side of his warm arm brushed against yours. You skittishly scooted away but tumbled out of bed.

Damian peered over the edge of the bed and his brows knit together in confusion. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly to sound normal. You tittered nervously as you climbed back under the covers. This time you lay on your side and faced away from him to put some distance between you two and to hide your embarrassment.

“Come closer, Y/N. I do not want you to fall off again.”

You shifted infinitesimally closer.

“Closer,” instructed Damian.

You inched towards him but left a good distance separating you two.

“There’s plenty of space here,” he encouraged.

You quickly came up with an excuse. “I toss and turn in my sleep. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

Damian let out a hearty laugh.

“What?” you asked with indignance. You rolled over onto your back so you could see him.

“Nothing,” he denied, stifling his mirth.

“Tell me,” you demanded.

“The thought of you, in your footie pajamas, thinking that you could injure a highly skilled assassin, is quite comical. Don’t flatter yourself. Now, come here and go to sleep.” Damian patted the empty space beside him.

This time you listened and moved towards the centre of the bed. You were so close to Damian that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The warmth was drawing you even closer to him but you reprimanded yourself and forced yourself to remain eerily still to avoid another accidental contact. Damian turned his head and you felt his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you squeaked. You bit you lip anxiously. Your hand played with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” you said, this time more confidently although you weren’t fooling him.

“You need not be afraid of the dark, Y/N, especially when I am here.”

You knew that already. You always felt safe when you were with Damian, even before you knew he was Robin. There was something comforting about his self-assurance that made situations less scary. But that’s not what was making you jittery.

“Why do you bother watching murder mysteries? They always overlook clues and never investigate thoroughly. Besides, you have a real detective right here,” Damian said, with a tone of umbrage.

You shrugged and tilted your head. “They’re fun,” was your simple answer.

Damian cocked an eyebrow. “Being so petrified that you cannot sleep alone is fun?”

“I don’t know. I guess I admire you for being Robin.” You don’t know why you said that. You really shouldn’t be feeding his ego. It’s big enough as it is. You kept talking, against your better judgement. “Watching you solve mysteries and fight for justice got me interested in true crime.”

Damian only hummed in response. He was quiet for a while and you thought that maybe he had drifted to off to sleep. Finally, he said, “Would you like to know who committed the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902?”

You gasped and turned on your side to face him. You were only a few inches away from him now, but you didn’t even register his proximity. Your anxiety was long forgotten and replaced by curiosity. “You know who did it?”

“Of course,” he confirmed.

“How?” you breathed with skepticism. The case had been undertaken by several of the most high-profile detectives and private investigators over the decades and none were able to solve it. In fact, no new leads had been uncovered in the last eighty years.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Batman and Robin are, without a doubt, the best detective duo in history. Not to mention, that case was child’s play.”

You scoffed. “I don’t believe you. Show me some proof,” you said, calling his bluff.

“Very well, then. I will show you the file the next time you visit the manor.”

“If you’ve solved it, why don’t you tell the authorities then?”

“We have. It is connected to several active cases so the GCPD is not able to release any information to the public yet.”

You scrutinized his face, looking for any signs of a fib. He didn’t waver under your intense stare, but then again, he was accustomed to the batglare so your measly glare was probably ineffective. You decided to trust him. “Who did it?”

Damian turned on his side as well and propped up his head with his arm so that he could look down at you. He pretended to think about it, building up the suspense. “If you go to sleep now, I’ll tell you tomorrow morning,” he said, almost playfully.

“What?” you exclaimed.

“Better get to sleep right away,” he warned.

You couldn’t believe he would tease you like this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep knowing that the answer to the city’s most enigmatic mystery was lying right beside you. You huffed angrily and flopped back down onto your mattress.

Damian let out a deep laugh in response. You grabbed a spare pillow and tried to whack him, but he anticipated your attack and caught it. “Damian Wayne, you are the absolute worst.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #batboys imagine #batboys #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x y/n #batfam #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #batfam x y/n #robinchicklets

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flourgirl · 4 years

Text

Even If It’s a Lie

Part I to “Even If It’s a Lie”

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter drags you to one of his frat parties, and you realize something you should have a long time ago.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: SO much angst, and lots of pining from Y/N. A couple swear words here and there.

A/N: I liked writing the first one so much that I couldn’t stop when it came to this one! Enjoy :-)

“This is the last time I'm asking you this Put my name at the top of your list This is the last time I'm asking you why You break my heart in the blink of an eye” -The Last Time, Taylor Swift

“Pete, I don’t know about this…” you said, looking yourself up and down in the mirror. You looked like a completely different person in the short burgundy dress that MJ had picked for you. The shiny satin contrasted with your dirty, white sneakers that hadn’t seen the light of day since you played tennis in the 9th grade.

“Trust me,” MJ had said when she was choosing your outfit earlier that day, “You don’t wanna wear any shoes that you actually like to a frat.”

“Why can’t you go with him again?” you whined, wishing Peter had somebody, anybody else, to accompany him to his “induction ceremony” into Sig Ep.

“I don’t think I’m what any of those frat guys meant when they said ‘Bring a hot girl’. Plus, you were Peter’s first choice,” MJ replied, nonchalantly biting her nails as you held the dress up to yourself. “That’s the one.”

“I’m not hot,” you sighed as you started to hang the many rejected dresses spread across your floor back onto the rack. “I wore a sweater with a cat on it yesterday. That I hand-knitted.”

“Well... you’re cute. And that’s good enough. Plus, you can keep Parker from getting plastered. You know he’s a lightweight,” MJ laughed, reminding you of the many times Peter had called you to pick him up from a late night of partying.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you sighed, still worried about the fact that you did not like parties. Or strangers, or crowds, or really anything that involved socializing with more than four people at a time. Peter had been the same way all throughout high school. That’s what made you guys so close, but... things hadn’t been the same since you started college.

Peter ran from the other room, smoothing the wrinkles out of the gray t-shirt that fit him just right. You saw him grin from behind you in the mirror’s reflection, and he placed his hands on his shoulders, jostling you lightly.

“Y/N! Are you excited! It’s your first college party!” he exclaimed, spinning you around to look him in the eyes. You stared down at your feet, self conscious over how short you felt in your sneakers next to him.

“That’s not true. I’ve been to parties before! Ned’s birthday was just last month,” you reminded him. “Don’t you remember how you watched me bake a cake from scratch and your only ‘contribution’ was eating the buttercream?”

Peter laughed, ruffling your hair like you were his little brother. “No, Y/N, I meant a real party. With booze and music that’s so loud that you can’t hear what someone is saying. That kind of party.”

Your brows furrowed as you began to fully accept that Peter had changed. So, so much. He wasn’t the dorky kid from Queens that carried your books and watched your favorite animated movies with you just because anymore. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

It didn’t take his spidey-senses for Peter to realize how upset he had made you. “Y/N, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it like that. I just want you to experience everything college has to offer.”

“I think you do that enough for both of us,” you muttered, plopping dramatically onto the couch. Peter followed you, running his fingers gently across your arm as you pouted into a throw pillow. “Couldn’t you have asked any other girl to participate in your frat’s misogynistic tradition?”

“I didn’t want to ask anybody else,” Peter replied. You sat up to look at him, fixing your hair and smoothing out your dress. “I promise, Y/N. I miss you. We never hang out like we used to.”

You rolled your eyes. “And whose fault is that? You’re always—”

“—it’s mine. I know that. So, just come with me tonight and let me make it up to you,” he pleaded, pulling out his signature puppy dog eyes that you could never say no to. “Come on. All you have to do is say the word and we can leave, okay?”

“Okay.”

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

Your nerves worsened the closer you got to the frat houses, not mentally prepared for how loud the music would be or all of the sweaty bodies that would inevitably be pressed against you on the dance floor.

As you approached Sig Ep, Peter gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. He looked deep into your eyes, “Y/N. I meant what I said. All you have to do is tell me that you’re ready to go and we’ll leave.”

“You promise?” you asked, chewing on your lip.

“Promise,” Peter smiled, holding out his pinky to intertwine with yours.

Some tall, buff guy was standing at the doorway and greeted Peter with a fist bump. “Hey, Parker! Good work with the dime! She got a boyfriend?” You recoiled at his attitude towards you. It was as if you weren’t even there.

“Nah, Ryan. She’s off limits.” Peter replied coolly, pulling you inside.

You heard Ryan wolf-whistle from his post, causing you to roll your eyes. “Hell yeah! Didn’t know little Petey had it in him!”

Peter wrapped his arm around you, partly to make you feel better, but also because there wasn’t much space for you two to squeeze your way into the kitchen. “Just ignore him,” he said, handing you a red plastic cup, a bottle of Sprite, and a shot glass of vodka.

You peered up at him, unsure. You weren’t much of a drinker, but maybe, just maybe, it would help you ease up on your nerves. Swirling the liquids together into the cup, you downed it before recoiling from the burn. Cheap vodka sucked, you remembered.

“That’s my girl!” you barely heard Peter say from right next to you, feeling him patting your back before he did two shots himself, swallowing them as if they were water. “Come on, I have some people who’ve been dying to meet you.”

The butterflies in your stomach were going crazy. He had called you his girl. You gripped his hand tightly as he led you down the hallway and onto the back patio, where a group of people sat crowded around a bonfire.

A girl with bleach blonde hair and a dark green dress that hugged her figure came running up to the two of you, practically jumping into Peter’s arms as she greeted him. “Peter! I’ve been waiting for you. Come on, you can sit next to me.”

She pulled Peter towards the bonfire, patting the empty spot on one of the benches next to her. Peter turned to nod at you, gesturing for you to follow them. Once again, it felt like you were invisible to almost everybody at this party.

The blonde girl leaned close to Peter’s face, giggling with an obvious drunkenness. “So, who’s your little friend?” she asked, waving her fingers towards you like you were some kind of pet.

“This is Y/N, my best friend.” Friend. That’s all you’d ever be to him, especially when there were girls like her around.

“Hi, Y/N! I’m Gwen. Gwen Stacy. Peter and I met in our thermodynamics class last semester,” she smiled, showing off her perfectly white teeth. “You should’ve seen him! He made everything look so easy.” You already knew that. Peter could do anything he set his mind to.

“Yeah...” you mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with her bright, gray eyes, which matched Peter’s shirt. “So, uh, who are you here with?”

“Oh, duh!,” she said before tapping the guy on her left’s shoulder, pulling him out of the conversation he was having with the people next to him. “This is Harry Osborn. We go way back. Harry, this is, uh…”

“Y/N,” you reminded her.

“Right! Y/N. She’s Peter’s friend,” Gwen told him. He nodded his head and offered a small wave before returning to his conversation. Of course, you thought to yourself. Peter had only asked you to come with him tonight because she was unavailable.

You stared back down at your stupid shoes as Peter and Gwen talked about titrations and bond solutions. Things that you knew nothing about. Was this why Peter was always out at parties? To see her?

You thought about Peter’s promise. Just tell him, you thought. Tell him you want to leave. But you knew that you wouldn’t. You knew that you couldn’t ruin Peter’s fun just because you decided to be a baby and get scared after just thirty minutes into your very first frat party.

Looking back up at Peter and Gwen, who now had her arms draped around his neck, you excused yourself to the restroom, wherever that was. You just needed a break. Peter nodded towards you before turning back to smile at Gwen.

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

A banging on the bathroom door startled you. “Hey, uh, could you, like, HURRY UP? I have to take a piss,” a boy yelled from the other side. You got up from the edge of the bathtub that you had been sulking on for the past five minutes to open the door.

“Oh. Sorry, Y/N. Didn’t know it was you.” It was Flash Thompson. Flash, the guy who had made Peter’s life a living hell in high school. “God, you look good. Hey, how’s about you waiting out here for me and we could, you know, catch up?” He winked at you and you wanted to throw up.

Your first instinct was to say no. How could you give Peter’s bully the time of day? But you thought about Peter and Gwen. Gwen. Gorgeous and smart and better than you in every possible way, who was probably sitting in Peter’s lap by now and running her fingers through his hair. Your heartbeat quickened as rage rushed through your body. You wanted to hurt Peter, like he had hurt you. “Yes,” you replied, before he slammed the bathroom door in your face.

One minute later, you were pulling Flash down the stairs and towards the backyard. “You washed your hands, right?” you asked, desperately hoping that the answer would be yes.

“Don’t worry, babe. I just peed. Everyone knows that as long as you don’t get it on your hands you’re all good,” he mused. “You use less water that way, too. Save the planet, am I right?”

You dropped his hand, mentally rolling your eyes, and continued trudging towards the bonfire. You watched as Peter turned to smile at your reappearance, which swiftly dropped once he saw who you were with. It seemed like Gwen had backed off when you were gone too. Was this some kind of weird, territorial act that she was putting on to prove that Peter liked her and not you?

Maybe you were overthinking, but it was too late to backtrack. You sat back down on your place next to Peter, the awkwardness thick in the air. Flash had decided to squeeze himself between the two of you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

Peter leaned forward and shot you a dirty look, which you immediately recognized as his “What the fuck, Y/N?” face.

A familiar voice boomed from behind, and you turned around to find Ryan had finally tapped out of bouncer duty to join the festivities. “Who’s ready for Truth or Dare!”

Shit. You hated truth or dare. Peter knew that. Ever since you had been dared to kiss Tyler Rosado in the 7th grade and he laughed right in your face before flat out rejecting you, the game had become a sore spot.

But you looked at Peter, who was cheering alongside the rest of the group, excited as ever to participate in the game that you swore you’d never play again. He doesn’t care, you thought to yourself, not like he used to.

You felt a vibration from your pocket and scrambled to pull your phone out of your jacket. Well, Peter’s jacket. The one he had let you wear on the way here because you were cold. It was a text from MJ.

“How’s everything going?”

“Not good”, you replied, adding multiple sad face emojis at the end of your message.

“What did that idiot do this time?,” she asked. It was like you could hear her “I’m so going to beat Peter up for this” voice through the screen.

“I’ll tell you when I get back,” you sent, before locking your phone and sliding it back into the jacket pocket.

“Alright, alright, alright. So, who’s up first?” You heard Ryan ask, remembering the terrible event that was taking place right before you. “Hey! Gwen, how about you do us the honors?”

“Of course!” she chirped back. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

“I know you are,” Ryan laughed, causing the crowd of people to whoop and holler around you. “So, truth or dare.”

“Definitely dare,” she slurred, taking another sip from her beer.

“Who’s got a dare for pretty, little Gwen here? Anybody?” Ryan asked, looking around the backyard.

Flash raised his hand. Fuck. Why did you think that it would be a good decision in any way, shape, or form to bring him with you?

“Gwen, I dare you to make out with the hottest guy here!” he giggled, obviously thinking that she’d pick him. What a dumbass.

She smirked, before turning to Peter. “Gladly,” she said as she moved to press her lips against his. You struggled to watch as they made out right next to you, much to both you and Flash’s dismay. It felt like it had been going on for forever when they finally stopped sucking each other’s faces and the crowd’s cheers died down.

That was it. That was the last straw. You got up from where you were sitting and headed back towards the front door, having had enough of frat parties for the rest of your miserable life. Peter probably wouldn’t even notice that you were gone.

You felt hot tears fall down your cheeks as you stumbled out onto the sidewalk, calling MJ as fast as you could. “Could you come get me,” you managed to choke out. “This—this was a mistake. Please, just come get me.”

MJ asked for your address and let you know that she’d be by in a couple of minutes. You plopped onto the front steps, emotionally and physically exhausted from all that Peter had put you through tonight.

A few minutes later, MJ’s car pulled up in front of Sig Ep, and she ran out to hug you, gently rubbing your back to get you to stop crying. “Where is he?,” she asked angrily, glaring towards the frat house.

You pulled her back, sniffling at her, “Don’t. I just want to go home.”

“Fine. I’ll deal with him later,” MJ said, before the two of you got into her car and drove back to the apartment that you shared. Upbeat pop music played on the stereo, which you promptly shut off, preferring to mope with your head on the windowsill, staring out at the cloudy night sky.

MJ unlocked the front door, and you were greeted by Ned and Betty sitting on the living room floor around a Monopoly board. Betty was obviously winning, and Ned was almost bankrupt.

“Y/N!” Betty squealed, getting up off the rug to hug you. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“It was Peter,” MJ muttered, shooting daggers at Ned.

“What!? I can’t control him,” Ned tried to reason. “Y/N, on behalf of my idiot roommate, I’m sorry for whatever he did this time.”

“It’s okay, guys. I just really want to go to bed, okay?” you told them, heading towards your bedroom.

You kicked off your sneakers and threw Peter’s stupid jacket, which smelled just like him, onto the chair in the corner, plunking yourself face first into the mattress. Ned, Betty, and MJ stood in your doorway, watching the entire thing.

“Yeah… I don’t think she’s okay,” Ned whispered, loud enough for you to hear.

Betty hit him on the head. “Ow!,” Ned replied, rubbing his temple from where she had flicked him.

“Will you all just shut up and leave me alone!?,” you screamed, startling your friends.

“Yeah, of course. Just tell us if you need anything, Y/N. We’ll be right outside,” MJ reassured you, before shutting your door behind her.

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

You woke up the next morning to the smell of blueberry pancakes and maple syrup wafting throughout the apartment. Dragging yourself to the bathroom, you wiped away the leftover makeup from last night and brushed your teeth, ready to forget about everything that had gone wrong yesterday.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Betty sang from the stove, placing yet another pancake onto the already towering pile before sliding the plate in front of you. “They’re for you. Blueberry, with a little bit of cinnamon, just like how you like ‘em!”

You managed to give her a weak smile, before digging into the breakfast she had so lovingly prepared for you. “Where’s MJ,” you asked, knowing that she would never still be asleep past 7 a.m.

“I’m not supposed to tell you…” Betty answered, obviously trying to deflect from wherever their roommate was. “Apple or orange juice?”

“Apple,” you replied. “No, seriously, Betty. Where is she?”

Betty placed the glass next to your plate of pancakes. A heavy silence hung all throughout the kitchen as you realized the only place that MJ could be right now. She was going to kill Peter.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, scrambling to pull your shoes on and running out the door. Betty mentally cursed herself out for not being able to keep a secret, chasing after you down the stairwell.

“Y/N! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop! Please, MJ is just looking out for you!,” she panted from several stories ahead. Betty had no idea when you had gotten so fast.

“Don’t care! He’s my best friend!” you yelled back, before rushing out onto the sidewalk and running across campus towards Peter and Ned’s dorm room. You hated how much you still cared about Peter after all this time. You hated how much you loved him.

As soon as you reached their door, you frantically knocked on it until Ned opened up. “Oh, Y/N, you’re not supposed to be here. Hey, wait—”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, squeezing your way past him and into their common room. There, MJ and Peter sat playing a game of chess. Until MJ transferred to your school, nobody had ever been able to beat Peter in chess. You scanned the board as they became aware of your presence, and felt a sense of pride seeing that MJ had his pieces tied up to ensure that she’d have a checkmate in five. He’d either have to resign or let her pick off his queen, two knights, and rook one by one.

“Oh,” you sighed with relief, seeing that Peter was still alive. Everyone in the room was staring at you, waiting to see what you had to say.

“Well. I’m going to head home. See you later, MJ. Bye!” You turned on your heels and headed towards the door, where Ned was standing with his jaw on the floor.

Peter scrambled to his feet as he caught up with you, grabbing your arm and spinning you around just as he had done yesterday. “Y/N. Let me explain,” he whispered softly, like there was nobody else in the room. Curse those damn puppy dog eyes. You were better than this. You needed to stick up for yourself.

“Goodbye, Peter,” you said, before breaking free of his grasp and walking out the door, doing your best not to cry in front of everybody.

He started to follow you before MJ pulled him back, uttering a simple “Don’t.”

Walking back to your apartment, you realized that you had been right all along. Peter had changed, and nothing was ever going to be the same between the two of you.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #mcu

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cafecourage · 3 years

Note

VIO CONTENT PEKASE PLEASE DKJNEOIAJEPLENSENEIWN OIYUEB NWPL EHAHAHAHhSNJKNKNKSLMFDLKSFNKLNFEOIFNEOWIFNEWOFNEWOFIWEMV

Thy....... ok here you didn't give me an AU so I just f***ed around and found out.

Vio headcanons (for all Au’s and general)

General HC:

- Vio crochets. People can fight me on this!!! He crochets and knits. He does it to calm his thoughts, just to slowly zone out. Catch him plotting his own story in his brain while doing so.

- Speaking of stories, this man is probably an Author. He most likely had written a fluffed-up version of their adventure. There wasn’t really a point of him doing so but it did get all of his feelings out on paper.

- Out of all the colors I feel like he would get the most night terrors. It will lead to him having bad insomnia.

General Love HC:

- Indifference. That’s the base emotion he is feeling towards a Reader that ended up traveling with the chain. He does like you! Don’t get that wrong. It’s just the situation calls for his attention to be on the goal. The other colors are better at social interactions then him.

- Reader in a normal traveling with the chain au, would be from a more modern timeline. Not fully but like one of that mixed technology and Medieval fantasy-based era.

- It honestly was weird that you just hang out with Four with him in control. You seem like you just gain energy from just talking or interacting with the others and Vio isn’t…really… that social.

- It was a slow bonding experience. It started as you sitting nearby when he was reading or working on a project. Nether talking nor really minding the other's company.

Isekai HC:

- This man is super anxious around you. The sobs when you were also convinced, he killed green, along with your cries from his betrayal still ring in his ears even now. He hates knowing that you might not trust him anymore because of that. The other Colors think he is just overthinking it because you did welcome him back with open arms after.

- Vio is kind of just dancing around you when they finally realize you’re the voice and presence that they felt during their adventures. While the other colors jumped on to the opportunity to get to know you better. He just… can’t?

- You’re his and the other’s anchor. They consider you their (ex. Imaginary) friend. The one person that was always by their side. Cheering them through the toughest of times, and Vio feels like you would leave them if he even tries to get close.

- He really, truly wants to standby you. He wants to not feel guilty enjoying your hugs. He just… wants you to be happy.

Divide and conquer. That’s normally how Four dealt with supply runs. Four was accompanied by you today. Which meant the others were in town. So, Four decided to let the colors stretch their legs. It was nice for each of them to actually speak to you one on one. However, they had limited time and still needed to get the items before sundown.

With five people it should go a lot quicker than normal. So, with the promise of being able to hang out after. Each Color and you went their separate ways. Vio was almost done with his list of items. The last thing he needed was some more personal items.

“Sneak attack!!” A warmth from behind engulfs the purple hero. Picking him up briefly to give a small squeeze. You were smiling brightly down at Vio. “Hi again.”

It was a miracle that his brain didn’t just short circuit just looking up at them. “I- Hello??” One of the many things you’ve said on their journey came out as, Vio was scrambling for a sense of, for the lack of better words, ground to root himself to. “Why are you here?”

“Is it against the law to hug someone I am closed to?”

“No, but…” he didn’t understand why you wanted to shower him, in affection and love. But how can he ask you that? You’re always giving Four hugs and small platonic kisses. He didn’t want you to stop. He and his brothers loved and craved that warmth you brought with your presence.

Vio didn’t know if he was deserving of it. The others were, that’s for sure. Despite how rough blue is, how bossy Green could be or how much Red cried in their adventure. You always had the patience of a saint. It was him that tested that and found how far that patience went. “Viiiioooooo, earth to my favorite grape color hero!” He was finally put back down on his feet. “Are you ok?”

“Define ok.” He was quick to answer, after finally getting some semblance of his ability to think back. He took his chance to back away from your presence.

That wasn’t the right thing to say apparently as your face slowly twisted to a pout. “Are you mad at me?”

“Mad… at you?” He repeated to confirm he heard you correctly. You gave a small nod now doubting your assumption. “Why?”

Your shrug didn’t give him much of an answer. “Well, it just seems when Four is influenced by you he is more distant.” You paused trying to figure out what to say next. Vio on the other hand was mortified that you were able to read his body language so well. Actually, he should have expected it. That’s how you knew that the colors exist in the first place. “If I did anything-“

“No, it’s not you!” It was him. It was all him. Vio knows logically being still hung up about the past was ridiculous. Emotions are annoying. He isn’t built to deal with them. “I just thought.” There was no nice way to explain this to you though. “You were still mad at me.”

“Oh.” Well, this got awkward really fast. Vio kept up his indifferent front hoping that his cheeks weren’t still as red as his brother’s tunic. “But I like you a lot!” You took his hands suddenly. “Don’t get me wrong I was mad. But I know you’re a good person Vio! I like you; I like your brothers and I like Four!”

Ah. There he goes.

- The first of the Colors to realized he loved you in this AU. Which just makes everything even worse for him. Since he knows the other colors feel the same but are in denial because of your connection with Four.

- He could help the others…..Nah…. Vio wants to watch them suffer.

Cafe HC:

- Coffee? If he feels like death. Yes. Tea mostly though. He tends to get the blunt of the headaches. Tea also helps with his ability to sleep.

- He is the type of customer that comes in and stays for hours. In his case just writing and/or reading. You’ve only ever spoken to him a few times before. Mostly to get his order and asking about his day. Small talk!

- Slowly you learn more about him. You learn that he has brothers. Is an author, (you’ve bought his book and teased him about having it signed now.) Had traveled around the world a few times before.

- You’ve met some of his siblings before. They actually come as often as he does. Striking up more of a conversation than him. Sometimes even getting him to talk to you more…

It’s has occurred to you how much time has passed since you last saw a Vio. It was a long time. A few months honestly. It kind of hurt that he and his brothers just up and left without giving you a fair warning but, it’s their personal business and not yours. Yet…

You thought you five were close.

It’s fine. Maybe Link was around! They were his siblings and you could just go to the forge and ask. Though you weren’t too close to Link so maybe it would be a bit awkward to ask him about his brothers.

They are probably fine.

There is no need to worry, they are all seasons’ adventurers!

It seems like this day was just going to be a slow one. Where you couldn’t get your mind off of your friends. It was almost closing time so another day without any word from your favorite color-coded brothers.

You decided to clean the shelves early tonight. Leaving some smaller bits for the Minish that may or may not be inside your small cafe. Lifting the chairs onto the tables to clean the floor. Making sure they get every nook and cranny. To make your life easier the next morning.

As you picked up the finally empty tray off of the counter you were heading into the back. Until the door to your small shop swung open and a group of similar-looking Adventurers comes stumbling in. “(Y/n)!”

“Vio?” You turned around quickly, only to see him helping to keep one of his brothers up. They looked like they ran through ten monster camps just to get to your sleepy little shop. You felt dread came in full force as the empty tray slips from your grasp. You bolt to his side ordering the others to get in the store. “You lot are staying over here.” You didn’t ask it was a demand. No room for argument. “There are potions in the back. You can use what you need.”

“Thank you, Ms.” a larger man with a scar across his eye went in the direction you pointed.

You gather the knocked-out brother to help Vio. “Thank you.” He said sheepishly.

“It’s no problem,” You smiled back at him. “Let’s make sure your brothers are safe. I was about to get dinner ready. How does something hearty sound?”

“That sounds lovely thank you.”

- You might have not known Vio and his brother for long but they really do consider your small little cafe as a safe space. A little heaven that they don’t need to be a Hero.

- Now when he stops by on this adventure you tend to give him packs of supplies and a bunch of treats for the road.

- You also started writing him letters and care packages when you can. Now that you know that he is traveling around. Though you don’t know how the mailman knows where he is… that’s… not something your gonna question really.

#🐠 anon #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #London Fog Tea #Mocha Latte #Ye Sheng Tea

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startanewdream · 3 years

Text

Shotgun wedding

Harry and Ginny will have a quick wedding, though not for the reasons people would expect.

@constancezin this silly piece of family fluff in a Jily Lives AU is for you 😘

Read on AO3 or below the cut:

___________________

The ring seems to sparkle even if the two diamonds there are really tiny - or maybe it’s just the fact that Ginny can’t help but look at it every now and then.

It doesn’t seem real yet. They are engaged, she and Harry.

It’s a little bit silly, because it’s not like anyone is actually surprised by their engagement. They’ve been dating steadily for four years now, surviving the long-distance relationship of her in Hogwarts and him on Auror training, then the mismatched turns when she was training for Holyhead Harpies and he was a Junior Auror and their time together was limited. And they live together.

Still, ever since she began her career as Quidditch Player, there was not a game where a reporter didn’t question her when she and Harry would tie the knot. She always ignored any question about her personal life - even learning that her Bat Bogey Hex didn’t seem to discourage people from asking. It was the only annoying thing in their lives.

It was no wonder that Harry had taken her on a short trip to a faraway place before kneeling in front of her - all classic like probably his dad had told him - and asking her if she would give him the huge honour of marrying him. Ginny had laughed happily - she hadn’t realized she wanted to properly marry him until that point - and had hugged and kissed him and assured him she very much would like to marry him.

After the celebration, when they were lying together in bed and Harry was playing with her hair absently (in a way that GInny feel they would still be like together sixty years in the future), they had talked about how they both wanted a quick wedding. Two weeks at most. A small wedding, only for family and close friends, in two weeks.

As far as Ginny gives a thought about it, the reporters can find out they have married when her new uniform says Potter instead of Weasley.

And fortunately for her, planning a wedding in two-weeks seems easy when she has the help of her future father-in-law.

‘Finally!’, James sings when she and Harry apparate in the Potter’s house. James was clearly expecting them in the porch. ‘So?’, he looks from one to another, his hand passing nervously in his receding hair.

In answer, Ginny beams and raises her hand, showing the ring there.

‘YES!’, James cries, and then he is hugging them both, almost lifting them up in the air, and Harry laughs amusedly.

‘Come on, Dad’, he says, when James lets them go. ‘You are embarrassing me. It’s like you didn’t think she would accept.

‘Maybe he thought I had more sense’, Ginny teases, winking at James.

‘You dated me for years now, it’s obvious you don’t have’, Harry answers playfully, kissing her forehead, and Ginny sees James is beaming at them, his eyes almost teary. He looks like he is stopping himself from swooning at them.

‘This is like the happiest day ever’, he declares, opening the door to inviting them in. ‘Come on, Lily is - well, maybe we should tell you together -’

‘You mean we should tell her the news?’, Harry asks, sounding confused. Then he smiles. ‘Let’s hope Mum is not as surprised as you’.

They find Lily sitting in the living room and Ginny sees she is knitting, singing to herself with a soft smile on her lips; Ginny had never seen her knitting anything before. It makes her think of her own mother.

She thinks there is something else different with Lily since the last time she saw her, more than two weeks ago; Lily has always been pretty, but today there seem to be something shining in her, as if she has an aura around her, like Fleur sometimes has.

It’s ethereally beautiful.

‘Harry, Ginny!’, she cries when she sees them, leaving the knitting aside and raising to greet them. James is at her side instantly, supporting Lily as if she needs help, though for what Ginny can see Lily looks perfect well. ‘I would ask, but James’ cry could be heard in France. Come here, Ginny, let me see it!’

Ginny smiles, approaching Lily with her hand already raised.

‘Oh, it’s really beautiful!’, Lily says, looking at the ring. Then she hugs Ginny warmly. ‘I am so happy for you two!’

‘Yeah, yeah, we are all very happy’, James says, waving his hand dismissively. ‘Now, the important thing, have you thought about dates?’

‘Oh, yes’, Harry smirks. ‘Two weeks from now’.

‘What?’, James looks nervous. ‘Harry - we can’t rush perfection, a big party in two weeks... there are places to see and I have thirteen options of buffet for you two to choose -’

‘We just want a small celebration, really’, Ginny explains, watching the smile freeze in James’ face.

‘Yeah, we are already in the spotlight too much’, adds Harry, coming at her side and embracing Ginny. ‘We want something more intimate, just our closest friends. We thought of something at the Burrow, it’s spring so -’

‘But - fireworks and one thousand red roses and the Weird Sisters singing -’

‘James’, Lily interrupts him. ‘That’s their wedding, not yours’.

‘Oh, yeah, true’, James nods, still looking crestfallen. ‘I guess I can take only the basics of my wedding planner’.

‘You have a wedding planner?’, asks Ginny, not bothering to hide her chuckle. Harry rolls his eyes.

‘Don’t ask, but I think he keeps one since we first kissed’, he says. ‘Well, as long as you can organize in two weeks, we will accept your help’.

‘Hang on’, Lily looks from one to another, raising her eyebrows. ‘Why the rush?’

Harry shrugs.

‘It’s no rush, we just don’t want to feed gossip’.

‘There doesn’t seem to be much sense in a long engagement’, Ginny agrees. ‘A quick wedding, hopefully without any reporter knowing’.

‘And is there any reason for all the secret?’, Lily asks, exchanging a knowing look with James, who also raises his eyebrows, his mouth now open in an ‘oh’, clearly understanding what’s on Lily’s mind.

‘Yeah’, Harry says slowly. ‘I mean -’, he points at his own scar. ‘I don’t want paparazzi at our wedding’.

James and Lily breath out together, as if they are relieved at something, and Harry throws a confused look at Ginny, who giggles.

‘They thought we were having a shotgun wedding’, she explains amusedly. ‘You know, as if you had knocked me up’.

Harry laughs now too.

‘People can marry just because they are in love, you know?’, he says playfully. ‘Don’t worry, no one will be pregnant at the wedding’.

He turns to his parents, obviously expecting them to share the joke, but neither James or Lily are laughing. Now that Ginny looks at them, she sees they have the same expression: a mix of happiness and embarrassment, with a touch of pride in themselves.

There is something different there, that she knows. Ginny frowns, trying to the understand - there is the fact that Lily is glowing for some reason, and the way James seems overprotective of his wife and how their hands are clasped together in front of Lily’s belly.

Also, Lily’s cleavage seems really great, now she notices it.

‘OH!’, she exclaims without controlling herself. ‘Don’t tell me -’

Lily nods, grinning more than ever, with a sparkle of mischief that it suddenly makes sense for Ginny, considering what Lily is carrying right now. Or who she married.

‘Congratulations!’, she says, letting go of Harry’s hand to hug again both Lily and James. ‘Oh, God, this is so amazing!’

‘Gin?’, Harry asks, bewildered, looking from one to another. ‘What’s going on?’

Lily and James exchange an overjoyed look.

‘Well - we have some news too’, James says, his voice shaking with undeniable satisfaction. ‘You are going to be a big brother’.

Harry just blinks.

‘How?’

‘Harry’, Ginny calls him, coming again at his side, but he doesn’t seem to notice her for once. He looks so lost that Ginny takes pity on him, so she says gently: ‘Your parents are having a baby’.

‘But - how?’

‘Oh, James!’, Ginny laughs now. ‘I thought you gave Harry the talk’.

James nods, looking at Harry with evident amusement. ‘The usual way, Harry. It was not an immaculate conception, you know’.

‘But -’, Harry still looks like he is not understanding a word of what they are saying. ‘You - you two are old’.

‘So kind’, James notes, rolling his eyes.

‘Your parents are barely in their forties, Harry’, Ginny remembers, but that doesn’t seem to clarify anything for him.

‘Old’, he repeats. ‘They couldn’t have - you know - made a baby’.

That makes Lily let out a sparkling laugh.

‘You are so innocent, Harry’, she says fondly.

‘I am pretty sure we could have’, James says confidently. ‘In fact, we already did. Six months from now you will have a little sister or a little brother’.

Harry gasps.

‘I will?’, he almost smiles, until he blinks fastly. ‘Wait, you really are three months pregnant?’

Lily nods, beaming once more. Harry is frowning.

‘So - three months ago - that trip to Italy -’

‘We did tell you it was like a second honeymoon’, James reminds him shamelessly.

‘But I thought you would do old people stuff - visit museums and cathedrals -’

‘We did all of it’, James shrugs. ‘And at night - some glasses of wine -’

‘We didn’t need much wine’, Lily says teasingly, turning to James and winking at him. He smiles mischievously, kissing her softly in the lips - and then, when they seem to deepen the kiss, Harry coughs loudly.

‘Ok, I get it, you two have a … life’.

‘I think you meant sex life’, Ginny can’t help but tease, making him look at her with his eyes narrowed. She just blinks innocently. ‘Come on, you still didn’t say anything about it’.

‘About what?’

‘The fact you are going to be an older brother’.

‘Oh - I didn’t think about it - I -’

Harry seems lost at words. James and Lily exchange a look.

‘Maybe we should have broken into him slowly?’, she whispers to him.

‘I don’t know, I was an only kid too’.

‘We should have started by saying we will always love him and that love only multiplies, not - ’

‘He is twenty-one, Lily, he knows it by now -’

‘Harry’, Ginny calls him again. ‘You are scaring your parents’.

‘I - I just -’, Harry bits his lips, looking nervously at his parents, before meeting Ginny’s gaze that he seems to deem as safer. ‘I don’t know how to be a brother’.

‘Oh, Harry’, Lily sighs, looking at him with fondness. ‘You are going to be an amazing brother, we are sure of it’.

‘Besides’, Ginny notes. ‘You have been taking care of my brother for ten years now, a baby will be much easier’.

‘Oh, yes’, James agrees. ‘Changing diapers, you’re going to love it’.

‘Teaching things’, says Lily, shaking her head at James, though she has a smile on her lips. ‘Helping learn to walk. Hearing the first words. Seeing him or her growing up’.

‘Training for the future’, James adds, winking at Ginny, who blushes and rolls her eyes.

‘Get a grip, you two. Your baby can’t wait a few years until we think about turning them into an aunt or uncle’.

‘As long as it doesn’t take you too much -’

‘Unlike others, I think we will plan it’, Ginny notes, raising her eyebrows and, just as she expected, they both blush. She laughs. ‘I can’t believe you two had another unplanned kid’.

‘We did plan’, Lily says with dignity. ‘We just had planned for twenty years ago, but there was this dark lord problem -’

‘Mum?’, Harry asks very softly, drawing all their attention. ‘Am I really going to be a brother?’

There are tears shining in his green eyes. Lily looks at him tenderly, her own green eyes sparkling too, and she opens her arms.

‘Yes, son’, she whispers, and then Harry is hugging her. James comes to their side, his hand on Harry’s shoulder, and Ginny feels happiness flooding her at the sight of them together.

It’s - or it will officially be in two weeks - her family too.

Perhaps they seem to think so, because Lily opens her eyes, her hand motioning to her, and Ginny hugs them too.

‘Now’, James says when they break away, wiping away his tears. ‘Let’s plan your wedding, shall we?’

‘It’s good we are having a quick wedding’, Ginny teases. ‘Imagine how outrageous it would be if we took longer’.

‘The mother-in-law pregnant? Oh, very scandalous!’, James agrees, grinning. ‘I’ll be back with the wedding planner, just a moment!’

‘The second good thing is that Dad will have to keep things modest’, Harry notes, sitting right next to Ginny.

‘Ha!’, James laughs. ‘You wish. I have things rented for years just waiting for the right moment’.

Harry throws a look at Ginny that seems to say ‘What did I tell you?’, but she just grins. She never expected anything less of James Potter.

‘So -’, she begins, turning to Lily, who is back at knitting what Ginny thinks it will be a baby bootie. ‘Did you think about names yet?’

_____________

Suggestions of names will be accepted by James and Lily 😉 😂

#Jily Lives #jily lives is a happier world #jily fanfiction #Hinny fanfiction #Eyes glistening #Jily #Hinny #Potter family #t: fanfiction

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

The Arrangement

John Wick x Reader (A/n- a pretty tame chapter by comparison.)

Masterlist The Arrangement Masterlist

Warnings- SMUT/NSFW, light bondage, d/s, vaginal fingering

Selfish Prayers

~11 months ago~

The powder blue wrap dress with the generous neckline, capped sleeves and lace at the hem, ending mid thigh was one of her nicest ones. Of course, she owned a couple evening gowns for functions held at the bank, but they were hardly the type of dresses that she'd wear on a date, or whatever she was meant to be having with John Wick. He hadn't specified what exactly the reasoning for inviting her to dinner was, his exact words had been, "I'd like to take you to dinner, I'll call you with the details."

He hadn't been the one to call though, instead, it had been his assistant, quickly telling her that she could meet John or rather, Mr. Wick, at the lounge of a popular five star hotel in Manhattan. The days leading up to that Friday had been nerve racking, though exciting. They'd been flirting before then, or at least, she thought they had. John was a man of very few words, and Y/n herself had never been too forward, but when he called for her boss, they'd usually spend well over fifteen minutes on the phone before she put him through. He'd ask about her day, make passing comments about how lucky her boss was to have her as his secretary and even fished around to see if she was single. John had more so made his interest increasingly clear on the night he'd prepped Y/n to testify on the matter of her boss's alibi. They'd been at his office well past midnight, he'd ordered them dinner and between the way John had coaxed her to relax through affectionate touches on her shoulder and his insistence to drive her home after they were finished, it was clear that he had taken a liking to Y/n.

Y/n couldn't deny it, she'd been intrigued by John from the moment she'd met him. He was the strong, silent type and exuded power, though, she supposed that it shouldn't have been surprising; he was one of the most powerful attorneys in the state, being one of two name partners at a well respected firm. And despite his seniority in comparison to her, he was alluringly attractive too; the textbook definition of tall, dark and handsome. It was one of the many things that had prompted her to accept his invitation and one would have to be blind to say that they didn't see his appeal. But Y/n? She was anything but.

Though, that Friday evening, when she got to the private lounge, she hadn't realized that she'd be walking into far more than she expected.

"I like to think of myself as a straightforward man," was what he'd said right in the middle of their meal, "And the last thing I want to do is mislead you, Y/n."

With a deep, shaky breath and a brief sip of her red wine, Y/n's eyes widened and she nodded slowly, wondering where he could possibly be taking things, "Okay."

"I think you're a remarkable woman," he noted, "In fact, I can't recall ever meeting anyone quite like you," at that, heat rushed to her cheeks and John smiled faintly before continuing, "Which is why I'd like to make you an offer."

His phrasing threw her and Y/n perked her brows, "An offer?"

"Yes," he determined, clearing this throat, "I have no interest in…..what you'd consider a conventional relationship, I usually prefer to engage in an…...arrangement." He stopped to gauge her reaction, though Y/n didn't think he could gather anything more than confusion from it.

"I don't understand," she finally admitted with a nervous chuckle. Was he implying that he wanted to hire her as an escort of some sort?

"I have very specific tastes, needs," with a punctuating sip of his drink, he explained, "In plain terms; I'm looking for a submissive. Usually there are private clubs for this sort of thing, but you…..I like you."

She'd never been in a relationship like that and Y/n wasn't sure how she should respond. Her lips quivered in indecision and thoughts swirled around in her mind confusingly. Finally, she managed to choke out one simple sentence, "I don't think I follow."

With a sigh, not one of annoyance, more like one of relief, that said he was grateful that she hadn't rejected him just yet, John clarified, "I prefer an arrangement, a contractual one, where you would be my submissive, not my girlfriend. I'd be happy to outline what that means, if you're interested."

Without hesitation, though, merely out of intrigue, she blurted out, "I'm interested."

Regarding her curiously, John nodded, "Alright. It would be exclusive, of course. And it's very simple really; I would be your dom, and you'd come when I ask you to-"

"For sex?"

"Among other things, but yes. You're entitled to your limits, and I'd respect them. We’ll discuss it more if you agree."

"You said among other things, what are the other things?"

"Occasionally, for client dinners or functions, you'd come with me, to keep up appearances and things like that. But otherwise, there would be very little…….emotional obligation. I wouldn't be your boyfriend, is what I mean." The entire thing felt so impersonal that Y/n might have forgotten that they were meant to be on something reminiscent of a date.

"You're overwhelmed," John determined after a couple minutes spent with her in silence. Surprisingly, he reached across the table for her hand, and when he looked at her then, she felt, in the most cliché sense, special. Not like she was the only girl in the room special, because she was, but in a way that had her convinced that even if the room was filled, she’d be the only person he wanted to look at. Perhaps that was the one thing that had sold her, she'd made her decision already. "I understand if this isn't something that you want."

"Would you be mad if I said no?" She glanced at his hand over hers, reluctant to reach the moment where he'd pull away.

Tilting his head, John furrowed his brows, "No, but I would be disappointed," quickly realizing himself, he shook his head, "But my feelings shouldn't force you to make a decision. This will only work if you want it too."

Gnawing on her lip, Y/n offered him the answer they both wanted, the decision she'd made from the minute he touched her, "I want it. But I've never been a….."

"A sub," he finished for her, "That's okay, I can teach you," lifting his hand off hers, he leaned over smoothly, caressing her cheek tenderly, and then shifting a loose curl away from near her eye. The mood had changed significantly, suddenly becoming more intimate and Y/n quickly came to the realization that they were having dinner at a hotel for that very reason. He'd already decided what would happen if she said yes. "That's what doms are for sweetheart."

Y/n's breath hitched, the sound leaving her lips agape and contained in her throat. "Is this what it'll be like?"

Quirking a smirk, "Sort of. I'll take care of you, you'll want for nothing and you'd be the only woman I treat this way. There's still a lot to work out, I'll have the contract sent to you by tomorrow afternoon, but right now, I'd like to see if we're compatible."

Temporarily disposing of her demure disposition, Y/n's eyes sparkled wickedly, "You mean you want to fuck me?"

Taken aback by the change, John chuckled, "Yes," he stood from his chair abruptly, coming to help Y/n out of hers, "Come on." Leading her with a hand low on her back towards the elevator through the lobby.

He'd withheld his words until the were secured safely inside the reflective box, his large palm slipping suggestively to the curve of her ass and his breath hot on her ear, "Tonight is just a trial run, but the next time you speak like that in public, you won't be able to sit on this," he smacked her harshly, causing Y/n to yelp and jump, "For the rest of the evening. Understood?"

Eager to please him, she nodded vigorously, "Yes Mr. Wick."

"Good girl," he praised, pecking her cheek, "And you can call me Sir," he hummed.

Shifting her head to meet his dark, consuming gaze, Y/n dragged her lower lip through her teeth, "Yes, Sir."

Even if she shouldn’t have expected anything less, Y/n was stunned upon entering the presidential suite. It took a man with tastes as refined as John's for a room like that to be rented for merely a handful of hours. Sucking in a breath, she looked around, letting the sight of reflective marble floors and exquisite French furniture under bright white light sink in. She’d never been in a room that nice, and being there in John’s attractively imposing presence was intoxicating. It felt as if she’d been thrust into a movie, it couldn’t have been real anyway, men like John simply didn’t handpick girls like her.

“What’s wrong?” He seemed hyper aware of every shift in her mood, not letting anything slip by him.

“Nothing,” she swallowed thickly, advertising her stare to the floor, “It's just…..why me?”

Knitting his brows, he urged her closer, “Why not you? It’s like I said, I think you’re a remarkable young woman; beautiful, intelligent and perfectly charming.”

“There are lots of women like that,” she scoffed, “And you could probably have anyone of them.”

“You’re right; I could. But I don’t want them, I don’t give a fuck about them,” he delivered firmly, “I want you," his voice dropped to a low, husky whisper, "There’s just something about you,” John leaned down, capturing her lips, “I don’t know what it is yet, but I’d like to find out. Come,” he urged, leading her to the sizable bedroom, where a series of large windows allowed city lights to illuminate the room. The chandelier over head was also on, though dim enough to not corrupt the mood.

“Are you on birth control?” Was the first question that he asked as they entered and John left her side, headed towards the nearest end of the room as heat rushed to Y/n’s cheeks. He was brazen and unafraid to say what he had to, and do whatever he wanted. “I’ll know if you’re lying, so be honest.”

Blinking quickly, Y/n clumsily debated whether or not she should answer, eventually offering, in the softest peep, “Yes, I’m on the pill.”

“Do you take it every day?” John caught how wide her eyes went, easily brushing off her embarrassment, “We need to be open and honest with each other if we want this to work. And I’m only asking because I wouldn’t want any……” children, “Accidents.”

Stiffly, she nodded, confirming, “I take it everyday.” Of course he’d want to know, the man didn’t even want a girlfriend, why would he want to risk getting someone pregnant?

“You need a safe word, something simple, that you can remember when you’re uncomfortable or if I take things too far. Nothing that’s easy to miss and you have to remember it; something like a color or an object. Do you have anything in mind?” John was in the process of removing his watch and shrugging off his suit coat near the dresser as he spoke, leaving Y/n standing near the bed.

“A color…..” she mused absently, gazing down at her dress, “Will blue work?”

He’d already moved on to taking off his belt, following up with his shoes afterwards, “That’s perfect. You’ll speak when I ask you to, and you’ll cum only when I permit it, understand?”

“Yes Sir,” she offered meekly, not really sure on where her eyes should fall, opting to let them follow him around the room, observing in awe as John moved with fluidity, from the arm chair to a table laid out with drinks.

John was finally sat on the bed, clad only in his pristine white dress shirt, stripped tie and black slacks, drink in hand as he carried on with the basics, “Like I said, it’s your first night, so we’re just working things out. But after you sign the contract, every time I invite you to my bedroom, you’ll wait on your knees, palms on your thighs and your head down. In your underwear. You don’t touch me unless I tell you to, and if I touch you in a way you don’t like for whatever reason, you use your safe word. Tell me your safe word again.”

“Blue.”

“Good,” John hummed, taking a sip of his bourbon, “Now, take your clothes off.”

The command startled her and Y/n inhaled sharply, “What?”

“Strip,” he ordered nonchalantly, “Do you need help with the zipper?”

“Uh….” Fumbling for words, Y/n shook her head, “It’s at the side,” she breathed. She couldn’t recall a man ever being that forward with her, and she’d certainly never been ordered to get naked right in the midst of what she thought to be a conversation. Downstairs, her quick witted boldness had come easy, but upstairs, when the moment had actually arrived, Y/n couldn’t resist the urge to retreat into herself.

Simply nodding, John kept his gaze on her, watching intently as she floundered around his simple order, sighing heavily when Y/n hesitated. He was patient though, his tone still even when he pressed the issue, “When I give you an order; you listen. And there’s no reason to be shy. You’re a beautiful woman Y/n, let me see you.”

Sucking in another unsteady breath, Y/n reached for the hidden zipper on the side of her dress, blinking quickly as she gave it a gentle tug. “More confidence,” he suggested, nodding for her to continue.

Straightening her back, she carried on with the zipper, letting her delicate fingers graze her exposed skin as she did. With the side undone, the garment seemed to hang on her shoulders awkwardly, though it wasn’t for long as Y/n was soon reaching for the lacy hem, pulling it over her head as gracefully as she could to reveal her simple, white, lace and silk lingerie. The set wasn’t too racy; seamless lace panties with a matching bra that boasted bands of silk at the top. She could easily tell that the sight was having an effect on John though, it was evident by the growing tent straining against his zipper. “See?” He mumbled, laying a heavy palm over his crotch, “Beautiful. Bra next.”

Reaching behind herself, Y/n searched for the fastenings of her bra, the thin fabric rough against her fingers. When she finally found it, she fumbled with it for less than a handful of seconds before she was slipping arms of the smooth straps. At the sight of her breasts, full, perky, and nipples peaked with arousal, John took a long sip of his drink, giving his member a squeeze.

Her panties were the next to go; thin fingers hooking in the waist, shimmying them down her legs, leaving her completely disrobed as she stepped out of them. “Keep your shoes on,” John leaned over to discard his empty glass on the nightstand. Spreading his legs; he invited Y/n to stand between them, the four inches of her heels allowing for him to be in the eye line of her stomach. “Undo my tie, slowly.”

Gulping, thrilled by the idea of finally getting to touch him, Y/n let her nimble fingers edge the knot near his neck loose, savoring every second of it as she undid it. “Now give it to me,” she laid it in his open palm, “Turn around. Does this make you uncomfortable,” he held her wrists firmly, tightening his single handed grip when Y/n wriggled her hands.

“No Sir,” Y/n peeped, suppressing a shiver when John replaced his calloused touch with the rich fabric of his tie binding her wrists behind her back before guiding her at the hips.

His lips were hot over her navel, feverish kisses making their way lower at a leisurely pace as one of his hands slipped between her thighs. His thumb pressed on her nub, rubbing in circles as his pointer spread her slick moistness around. “You’re so wet already,” John muttered.

His digits worked her slowly and in the interim he nibbled on her satiny skin of her stomach, leaving dark bruises. John kept her against him with his spare palm splayed on her lower back, the only thing that kept her up. Y/n’s short breaths were ragged and whiny, and she fought against the fabric restraining her hands, eager to thread her hands through his perfectly maintained raven mane. The knot he’d made held though, only serving to bruise and burn her skin with every fretful twist.

A lewd whine seeped from her lips as his fingers moved inside her, the way he’d curled them slightly accentuating their every move. They were so pleasurably rough and so stocky that they offered to stretch her in the slightest bit, “You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, “You think your tight pussy can take my cock Kitten?”

Y/n’s response was a half hearted moan, her coherence wavering and her stance growing shaky. His thumb, still working her clit, pressed down firmly and when John felt her start contracting around his fingers, he slowed his pace, “Not yet,” he growled lowly, biting down on her skin, surely leaving marks.

Removing his soaked fingers completely, John drew her attention, locking his eyes with hers as he sucked them clean. “Do you want to taste yourself?” He stood without warning, their proximity so limited that his member pressed urgently against her thigh.

The kiss was far more intense than the one they’d shared upon entering the suite, John’s tongue boldly moving past the barrier of her teeth, the slightly salty taste of her arousal still evident on his tongue as it swirled erotically around hers. Palming her cunt, John swallowed up her sounds eagerly, “One day I’m gonna eat this pussy out so fucking good, that you’ll cum all over my face.”

“Sir,” Y/n groaned, the plea muffled by John’s lips still on hers.

“Shh,” he urged, turning them before guiding Y/n to the bed. She fell back against the sheets, hair skewing her lust-blurred vision. He’d started undressing; starting with the plastic buttons of his shirt, and Y/n struggled to shake some hair out of her face as she watched; propped up on her elbows.

John was undoubtedly a sight to behold; broad shoulders and obviously firm biceps with a sturdy physique. On his shoulder, she spotted a tattoo; a large cross, and some more ink peeked out from his back. Y/n hadn’t taken him for the type to have a back covered in ink, though she was quickly learning that he was a man of many layers. Briefly, she wondered what his tattoos meant, though, the thoughts were fleeting as his pants and pale blue boxers fell to the floor.

Her jaw hung slack and words escaped her. If Y/n hadn’t realized it before, she was certainly well aware of the sheer magnificence that was John Wick by then. His manhood stood proudly out of a groomed, dark bush, a clear bead gathered on his swollen, rosy head. Her sex throbbed excitedly and a fresh wave of moisture gathered between her thighs, and Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn’t eagerly awaiting a time where she could put her mouth on him.

The hunger in his rich stare was evident as he crawled on top of her, his firm shaft teasing her as it brushed Y/n's arousal. Sinking his arms into the mattress, John started at Y/n's lips, journeying towards her jaw and consequently down the column of her neck. The evidence of John's presence would surely be littered across her skin by the end of the night, though Y/n supposed that his lingering nibbles weren't without intention.

Yearning to feel him, she arched her back, huffing despondently when he hastily grabbed her hips, shoving her back onto the bed. "Patience," John barked, burying his face in the valley of her swollen breasts. His shortened beard burnt her skin, weaning a hiss from her lips and Y/n craved more. She wanted to feel that pleasurable roughness all over her body, have John mark her

Not releasing his firm hold, John's tongue flicked over her pebbled nipple, eliciting an audible shudder from Y/n. Then, when he closed his mouth over the top of her boob, only to gently drag his teeth along the sensitive skin, goosebumps raised along her arms and legs and Y/n’s eyes slipped closed. Her body resisted his grip, hips fighting to buck forward fruitlessly, the desire for John intense and burning. “We’re gonna have to train you to hold still,” he lifted his mouth to her ear, his hot breath fanning her skin, “Or just keep you tied up,” he bit her lobe before sucking the spot behind her ear.

Depraved moans filled the room, and John finally reached between them, lining himself up with her entrance before pushing into her, all at once. Y/n’s eyes flew wide open and a hollowed groan parted her lips as John stretched her so wide it burned and she swore she could feel him nestled deep inside her. As patient as he was, so Intune with maximizing the slow build to pleasure, John was proving to be almost selfish once sheathed between her sensitive walls. He rolled his hips aggressively, burying Y/n into the disarrayed sheets. Each thrust evoked a profane yelp to accompany his low, rumbling grunts. The searing heat gathered in their skin and above her, though blurred vision, she could make out his clenched jaw and bared, gritted teeth framed by sweaty hair sticking to his face.

As he moved, Y/n’s toes clenched in her shoes, the heels pressed into the plush sheets and every time his bulging veins dragged against her and the slight curve of his cock. At some point, he grabbed one of her legs, harshly draping it over his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper as her other leg lay crooked on the sea of fine silk. “Sir…” she hitched, incoherent and squeezing her eyes shut as he drilled into her, his balls consistently assaulting her cunt.

A rumbling growl escaped through his gritted teeth and it wasn't long before John was bending his head, ravaging her neck mercilessly. “So fucking tight,” he gnarred as her body upwards. His sloppy, open mouth kisses and suckles on her were searing and his rough touch, occasionally dragging along her sides, only to once again settle on her hips, were like holy fire lapping at her silken skin.

Y/n’s wrists protested against John’s tie, the fabric surely leaving bruises to match the rest he was giving her. Every sensation was intensified; the way bulging veins on his girth rubbed her walls, the heat from the pads of his fingers sunken into her damp skin, and the coarseness of his groomed beard brushing and burning the column of her neck. John was a skillfully selfish lover, if one could even call him that; a lover, and it was hard to ward off the crest of gratification that was creeping up on her with each roll of his expert hips. “I wanna feel you cum,” he mumbled between little bites and nibbles, “Let me feel you cum babygirl.”

Her short, hitched breaths grew quicker in succession and the knot in the coil in the pit of her stomach was wound so tight that it was close to snapping. “Please,” she whimpered, her sinful prayer was hoarse and she closed her hands in on themselves, feeling her nails dig into her palms. John bucked his hips violently and Y/n’s heel dug into the mattress just as a perverted cry left her mouth agape and jaw slack. Writing beneath him, she tossed her head to the side, feeling messy strands fall over her face, sticking to her skin.

“Look at me,” John demanded, riding through her high, getting close to her face. She could almost taste the bourbon on his breath and his chest was pressed to her swollen breasts, pinning her to the bed. “I want to see you,” he continued, “I wanna see how sexy you look when you squeeze my cock with this pretty little cunt.”

Shifting her head, Y/n regarded him through dilated pupils, his image hazy and white spots dancing on her vision as raw pleasure coursed through her veins like fire. Even as she came down, from her high, John proved relentless, pounding into her with unwavering vigor. Sloppy noises joined their vulgar moans and grunts and between her thighs felt sticky with her juices and soon after her first, Y/n could feel her second orgasm mounting. If it weren’t for the restraint holding her hands back, the knot done so tightly, her hands would have flown to his back, nails sinking into John’s skin.

Her second wave of pleasure crashed over her unexpectedly, leaving Y/n gasping loudly for breath as she arched into John. Simultaneously, his movements went stiff and rigid and John’s heavy grip on her hip went tighter. “Fuck,” he huffed, the word contained low in his throat, features, contorted in ecstasy shrouded by dark hair matted to parts of his face. Bursts of his hot product sprayed against her drenched, pulsating walls in silky ribbons. John bucked his hips in an unmanned rhythm, struggling to keep pace as they fell over the edge.

Her legs trembled with pleasure and the thick air around them was stifling, befuddling sense and intensifying innate sensations. Ragged, broken words threatened to break her stretch of audible inhales, but they never quite made it and as damp skin almost melted into one. It was hard to hold his gaze with his forehead pressed to hers, his hair ticking her face and their breaths shared as John’s ajar lips hovered over hers.

Mere minutes after it was over, John detached himself, pecking Y/n near the side of her forehead when she winced as he rolled off her. Swallowing thickly, she eyed him as he seemed to gather himself faster than she could, eventually scooting off the bed, confident enough to approach the drink tray near the wall without slipping into an inch of clothing. As Y/n shuffled around, guarding her modesty with the soft sheets, the fabric feeling weightless on her smooth skin, she winced again as she turned to catch a good look at John. It was all definitely gonna hurt the next day, but for a man like him, the pain was worth it.

With a glass of water in hand, he approached the bed, easing in next to her before offering Y//n the glass. Mumbling a shy thanks, she brought the thin, tall glass to her lips, where the color had faded. “So?” She sighed hopefully, between brief, quenching sips, “Are we compatible?”

Gazing down at her, John got closer, propping his weight on an elbow before reaching over to tuck a stray lock behind her ear, his large palm lingering on her cheek. “I don’t know,” he squinted, though, just barely, as he regarded her with an indecipherable expression that was hypnotically irresistible. There was something about him, a darkness that resided past those whiskey eyes that thrilled her, it was magical, alluring and she ached to learn it. Discover the man behind the tailored suit; serve him, please him. “You tell me,” John offered.

Leaning into his touch, Y/n resisted the urge to close her eyes. Could it really be as easy as that? In the end, he’d let her choose? And if that was the case, who could ever refuse John? It was completely new to her; unchartered territory and certainly a decision that would warrant far more thought, still she made it impulsively, knowing that even with a weekend’s worth of contemplation, she’d always come up with the same thing. Because even with everything in between; contracts, rules, specifics, it all came back to the simplicity that had led them to a hotel room in Manhattan, he wanted her and she wanted him. “Yeah,” moistening her lips, Y/n restrained her smile, until it seemed that John would let one of his own slip as he came down to kiss her slowly, “I think we’re compatible,” she returned quietly us as his hand tangled in her tresses and his lips found hers.

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#john wick #keanu reeves #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #fanfic #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #the arrangement #selfish prayers

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

Text

Winter

gif via @damerondjarin

summary: You spend the winter falling in love with Frankie.

series parts: summer, fall, winter

pairing: frankie “catfish” morales x f!reader

warnings: fluff, celebrations of thanksgiving (friendsgiving, i should say) and christmas

rating: T

word count: 6.154k

masterlist

The first snow is falling heavily the day you meet Frankie.

It’d be hard not to notice it, since you’re driving home on roads that definitely haven’t been salted yet—thus putting you on the highest level of caution. You’re already going the speed limit, and even then, you’ve still found yourself slipping a few times. You figure it’s time to finally get the snow tires back on, but what makes your car a problem isn’t your tires or even the snow. It’s the engine heating up so badly that you can almost see the smoke coming out of the hood, and with a curse, you pull the car over to the side of the road.

You stop the car and reach for the gloves you’d tossed so carelessly on the passenger seat just before you left work, pulling your coat a little tighter to your body as you step out of the car. You walk around to the hood and lift it, coughing a few times when some of the trapped smoke finally escapes. Thanks to years of having to deal with your own car troubles, there’s many things you can fix on your own, but this one’s got you beat. Snow sticks to your hair, body, and lashes, causing you to have to blink them away multiple times as you try to find out what’s happening. You’re at a loss, and you can’t help heaving out a sigh as you reach into your coat pocket for your phone.

No service. Great. The idea of using back roads to avoid the post-work traffic used to seem great—until you realize that you’re left out here with no signal at all, stranded and having to wait at the mercy of a stranger.

Who comes much sooner than expected.

You’ve just started to cross your arms and consider your options when the red pickup truck pulls over behind you. Your eyes narrow thanks to the brightness of their headlights, but they soon shut off, and immediately your eyes are drawn to the man who hops out of the truck. He’s got a forest green puffy winter jacket keeping him warm, paired with a baseball cap that one of his gloved hands tips on his head as he approaches you. As he comes closer, you meet his dark brown gaze, eyes that study you closely with genuine concern as he notices your predicament. You can feel the heat already rising in your cheeks as you look down at your feet in the snow. He’s much more prepared for it with jeans and a pair of boots versus you in your work slacks and the pair of heels you forgot to exchange for your own boots.

“Everything okay?” the man asks, his voice a slight rasp that’s much more gentle than you’d been expecting. He stops in front of you, hands coming to rest on his hips as he looks from your car back to you. “I know this is the worst kind of weather to break down in.”

You offer a small chuckle as you give your head a shake. “Well, actually, my engine’s overheated,” you explain, walking back to the open hood. The man follows you, his gaze investigating the area as you gesture towards it. “I can’t find out why, though. I didn’t want to keep driving in case, y’know…”

“Yeah, that’s a good call,” the man assures you, giving you a nod of approval before he leans over more to look around for you. After a few moments of silence, his brow lifts in interest, and he offers a brief ah before he stands up straight and looks over at you again. “It’s your radiator.”

You frown. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s cracked, and now it’s leaking.” You heave out a heavy sigh, clapping your gloved hands together as you grimace even further. “Don’t worry, it’s not a huge issue—for now. You’ve just gotta use a coolant on it to get the engine back to a normal temp, and then it’ll be fine.”

You look up at the man with a furrowed brow. “I don’t have any coolant.”

The man gestures with his gloved thumb towards his truck. “I have some, if you’re alright with me using it.”

You don’t hesitate to nod earnestly in response. “Yeah, of course! That’d be really great.” You give him a smile and he returns it. “Thank you so much…” you trail off, waiting for him to fill in with his name.

He seems to understand as he holds out a gloved hand to shake. “Frankie,” he tells you, his smile only growing as you accept his hand. “Frankie Morales.”

You respond with your name, watching as he hurries back to his truck and opens the door to search for the coolant. Frankie’s quick with it as he jogs back over, and you step away to let him work as he loosens the cap and then pours the coolant gingerly into the reservoir. As he works, you talk about how you both ended up on these back roads. You explain your reasoning of avoiding the traffic on the main roads after work, while he says he’s seen one too many disasters for his liking and he often sees people get stuck on these roads—so now, he drives them so he can help whoever’s in need. Frankie’s evident kindness warms your heart immediately, and you can’t help smiling throughout his entire explanation, though you discover not everyone’s as good about noticing it as you are.

“I’ve had a lot of people not want my help,” Frankie’s saying as he starts to tighten the cap back on. “I mean, I don’t blame them. It’s kinda weird for a stranger to just pull over and offer their help, especially if it’s a woman by herself—because I’m sure you know how a lot of men sadly just aren’t trustworthy these days. I don’t wanna freak them out, you know?” Frankie looks over at you, and for a split second, a small look of horror crosses over his features. “I’m not freaking you out, am I?”

You can’t help but laugh because you haven’t gotten an inkling of anything other than pure friendliness from Frankie. “No, Frankie, not at all,” you assure him, even daring to leave a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You’re nothing but very kind to me. I’m surprised that others can’t see that.”

You think your words might’ve made Frankie blush just judging by the way he ducks his face away from view for a moment, distracting himself as he pulls down the hood of your car for you. “Well, thanks,” Frankie says in a voice even softer than before. “I just, y’know, I wanna see people get home safe.” He tucks his gloved hands into his coat pockets as he speaks.

Your smile continues to grow as you shake your head. “We need more people like you in this world. I can’t thank you enough.”

Frankie returns your smile. “Please, it’s the least I could do.” He then hesitates, and you watch one of his hands free themselves to tip his hat again before he speaks. “You can feel free to shut me down completely on this, but do you mind if I, uh, if I follow you home? Just to make sure you make it safe? I know that sounds insanely creepy, but I just want to make sure the coolant’s working, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I found out—.”

You cut him off with a laugh and another reassuring hand on his shoulder. “That’s fine, Frankie. I think that if you really were a creepy stranger, you would’ve made your move when my car wasn’t working.”

Frankie laughs with you, giving you a nod as you both start to make a move for your cars. He first helps you into yours, obviously having noticed the situation with your now snow-filled heels as he opens your door and offers a hand for you to take as you balance and kick the snow out of them. Once you’re all settled, you watch in the rearview mirror as he heads back to his truck, and you wait until his headlights are on to pull back onto the road—pleased to notice that the engine’s temperature has returned to normal.

The drive home to your townhouse isn’t too long from where you’d been stranded, and in just under ten minutes, you’re pulling into your half of the shared driveway. You make it into the garage, hoping that Frankie hasn’t driven away yet. Thankfully, when you step out of your car, you notice he’s still there, having pulled up along the street. You bite back a smile as you hurry down to where he’s parked, watching as he opens his window to talk to you.

“Does everything look alright?” Frankie questions, and you can see a concerned furrow in his brow.

“It looks great,” you assure him, glad to see the knit in his brow straighten out as he gives you a nod of approval. Before he has a chance to speak again, you keep going, knowing that you’ll sound ludicrous but feeling unable to stop yourself. “I can’t thank you enough, and I’d really like to be able to do something. Do you want to come in quick, just for a mug of hot chocolate or something? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t, you probably have places to go.”

Frankie smiles at you. “I think that sounds really nice,” he agrees. “Should I park here, or—?”

“You can pull in the driveway, if you want,” you tell him, and he nods before you give him the room to move. There’s a warmth in your chest that sticks there and you can’t exactly place it. All you can do is focus on retrieving your work bag from your car as Frankie parks his truck and hops out again, following you to the door and making sure he kicks all the snow off his boots before he enters behind you. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not much,” you begin to apologize as you watch him look around the house, taking his coat for him once he shrugs it off. “It’s not very ready for guests, either.”

“It’s great,” Frankie assures you with a kind smile. “It’s very… I know this isn’t technically a word, but it’s very homey.”

“Actually, I think that is a word,” you confirm with a giggle, inviting him to sit at your kitchen island as you get out a saucepan and pour some milk into it. You turn to face Frankie with an eyebrow raised. “Wait, you aren’t lactose intolerant or anything, right?”

Frankie chuckles and shakes his head. “No, I’m fine.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and continue with what you’re doing, getting the hot chocolate mix out from a cabinet beside the stove. “I just have the mix, I hope that’s okay. I know it’s pretty sugary, but I don’t usually have a lot of time to make it from scratch.”

“Hey, don’t worry, really.” Frankie’s tone is gentle yet stern, as if he’s trying to get the point across to you very thoroughly. “I appreciate the fuss, but I promise, it’s not necessary. I’m not picky at all.”

You smile to yourself as you set out two mugs, finally turning back towards Frankie and standing across from him at the counter. In the lighting that hangs from your ceiling just above the counter, you can more vividly see his face, the kind twinkle in his dark eyes and the scruff that graces his jaw and upper lip. You hope your admiration isn’t so obvious as you shrug at him. “I know, I just… you were so helpful to me, and I just want to return the favor.”

Frankie raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s it?” His tone contains a hint of teasing in it. He’d obviously caught you in the act of observing him.

You scoff playfully, looking down at your hands that rest on the countertop. Your fingers are folded together as your thumbs fiddle with each other. “Well, I guess I also thought you were cute, too.”

You look back up and bite back a smile upon seeing Frankie’s cheeks reddening a bit. He tips his hat—which you figure, by now, is a nervous habit of his—and see a small smile of his own tugging at the corner of his lips. “Then it’s not weird for me to say that I thought the same thing about you, right?”

You laugh and shake your head, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as your gaze never breaks away from his. “I guess it’s not. Every great romcom starts with something breaking down, right?”

Frankie laughs with you, his eyes crinkling up a bit in a way that has your stomach erupting with butterflies. “Or canceled flights,” he adds, “and that’s really down my alley.”

You feel curiosity fill you at his words, and you encourage him to elaborate on that. Frankie begins to tell you about his piloting experience, including the job he has at the local airport teaching flight lessons. He explains that’s why he said before that he’s seen a lot of disasters, because flying can get really tricky sometimes, so he’s always looking out for people’s backs. He includes this with his time spent in the Delta Force, especially with his group of friends who he’s always had to watch out for thanks to their enthusiastic yet reckless behavior. He keeps going even as you finish heating up the milk, preparing the mugs and handing one over to him.

Frankie encourages you to talk more about yourself as well, and you go on about your desk job you have right now and your day-to-day life that pales in comparison to his. Still, Frankie’s interested in every detail, his brown eyes completely alluring as they look into your gaze with such genuine interest. You tell him that you’ve moved far away from family and he tells you the same thing—a commonality that warms your chest more than it probably should. You go on and on in such an easygoing conversation until you realize Frankie’s been here for two and a half hours now and both your mugs have been empty for half that time.

“I should probably go, now,” Frankie admits, which is what causes you to whip around and read the time on the digital clock of your microwave. You gasp lightly and start to apologize for keeping him so late, but Frankie holds up a hand to stop you as he gets out of his chair. “If I wanted to go earlier, I would’ve. I actually would stay longer, but I’ve got a flight lesson early tomorrow.” You smile at each other, and Frankie starts to reach into his pocket. “I’d love to keep this going, though. Do you mind if I…?” Frankie trails off as he hands you his phone, which is open to a new contact.

You agree without hesitation, entering your name and number and letting him do the same in your phone. He leaves with a warm smile, one that only grows when you ask him to text you when he’s gotten back safely. Frankie does exactly that—along with a request to take you out later in the week.

That’s how you end up hopping out of Frankie’s truck at the local outdoor rink, receiving a helping hand from Frankie after he’s already opened the door for you. You’d warned him that your ice skating skills are even worse than the average person and he’d told you not to worry—that you could drag him down with you if you needed to. He looks over at you as you walk in, his gaze observing your winter apparel for the cold night as he smiles softly.

“You look warm enough,” Frankie says softly, “but I have some extra stuff in the truck in case you need it.”

You smile up at him. “Thanks, Frankie. I don’t think your thoughtfulness ever ends.”

Frankie simply shakes his head, but you don’t miss the small blush of pink across his cheeks as he leads you inside to the counter. He—of course, and much to your own protests—pays for not only the time spent skating but also your rentals. He’s got his on in record time but you take a bit longer, which he doesn’t seem to mind at all. As soon as you stand up, you already start to wobble a bit, instinctively reaching for Frankie’s arm to stabilize yourself. You look shyly up at him afterwards, feeling embarrassed.

“Sorry,” you nearly squeak out, starting to loosen your hold on his arm.

“Don’t apologize,” Frankie insists, placing his gloved hands over both of yours to encourage you to keep them there. “I told you, I’m your anchor—and I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

You nod, trying to hold back a smile as he helps to lead you onto the ice. He holds you by both your hands to get you safely inside, and once you’re gliding, you’ve resumed your position of holding onto one of his arms with both your hands. Frankie’s easily the one guiding both of you as you go along, looking over at you every once in a while to make sure you’re hanging in there. You find it easier than you thought it’d be, and you smile up at him in delight. “I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

Frankie raises an eyebrow with a gentle smile. “Yeah?” He watches your feet glide beside his. “I think so, too.” He gently begins to tug upwards on his arm, encouraging your hands to meet as he entwines your gloved fingers together. “Just in case.”

You beam up at him. “Just in case,” you echo his words, letting the sarcasm drip into your voice as Frankie nudges your shoulder with a chuckle. The movement causes you to trip just a step, but instinctively you wrap your free hand around his arm again, throwing Frankie into a fit of laughter as you give his arm a tighter squeeze in playful anger. “So much for keeping me safe!”

Frankie shakes his head and gives your hand a squeeze. “I would’ve caught you,” he assures you softly. His words have already made your stomach flutter, but then he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek, which truly makes your heart practically fly out of your chest. You bite back a warm smile as you hold a gaze with him, pulling yourself closer to his side as you continue gliding together.

You keep going around in circles as you talk about the upcoming holiday of Thanksgiving, detailing each other’s plans and what you usually do with the inability to travel out to your families—and the lack of desire to, thanks to flight costs, risky weather, work hours, and family drama. The rest of your conversation flows just as easily as it had the night you met and during all your other text or phone conversations ever since. You also can’t help noticing the eyes you draw as you keep skating together. It’s mostly the teenage girls whose stares linger the most, whispering to each other with hands over their hearts as if they’re deeming you both as the model relationship. It makes you feel flustered at least a hundred times, yet you can’t help feeling the same thing they are each and every time you look over at Frankie and meet his caring gaze.

They’ve kept the retractable ceiling above the rink open for the evening, and so once snow starts to fall gently from the sky, you get to watch it come down around you. Not feeling affected by the cold thanks to the warmth of your clothes and Frankie’s close presence, you don’t mind it at all, and he doesn’t seem to either. At one point, though, he does slow your skating to a stop, letting you both step to the side out of other people’s ways as you try to blink away a large snowflake that’s settled on your lashes. Frankie laughs softly as he gently reaches a gloved hand forward.

“I got it,” Frankie assures you, and his gloved thumb moves carefully to brush the snowflake away. But now, you’re both realizing how close you are to each other, the heat of each other’s breath warming your faces. Frankie’s hand settles onto your cheek and the other slips out of your grip to meet your other cheek. You watch his gaze drop down to your lips and then back up to your eyes, seeming to ask you if it’s okay to keep going. You reassure him with a warm smile and the same gesture, your gloved hands pressing against his chest for stability as you let him press his lips against yours.

The kiss is so soft and slow that it feels like you’re melting together in the same way the snowflakes start to melt on your warm cheeks, somehow so full of passion while simultaneously remaining gentle. For this moment, the rink and the people filling it disappear completely, and all you can conceive of is the man you’re drawing yourself even closer to. Frankie pulls away after what feels like so long yet somehow also doesn’t feel long enough, and the second his gaze meets yours again, you both smile wider than you think you ever have.

You swear you can feel gazes practically burning through you, so you look to the side and see the same group of teenage girls from before. They’re practically swooning at the sight of you, and you can’t help giggling with flustered cheeks as you look back up at Frankie. He raises his brow at you with another small smile.

“I think we’re drawing some attention,” you whisper to him, despite the fact that the girls are standing rather far off. Frankie follows your gaze as you look back to them, and they finally seem to notice as they duck away with gloved hands containing their laughter.

Frankie looks back to you with a soft chuckle, his hands moving from your cheeks to your hands as he takes both of them in his. “I guess we should go somewhere more private, then,” Frankie suggests, giving your hands a squeeze before he helps to guide you both off the ice. He keeps one of your hands in his as you walk back to the truck, him once again opening the door for you before he gets in on his side. Once you’re setting off to your home once again, you take his hand in yours, exchanging a smile with him. “I hope you had fun.”

“Of course I did,” you assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I mean, once I learned how to actually skate.”

Frankie chuckles. “You did great.”

You continue to make small talk until he pulls into your driveway, yet again being as chivalrous as possible as he opens the truck door for you and walks you up to your front step. Frankie stops once you’re there, taking both your hands in his again as he looks at you with nothing but pure admiration and warmth. You can’t stop yourself from leaning close to him and giving him a soft kiss, butterflies erupting at the natural way his mouth moves against yours. You pull away with eyes that you’re sure have just as much admiration as his.

“I hope this means we can have another date,” Frankie says, chuckling when you laugh at him.

“And many, many more,” you insist, giving his hands a squeeze. Frankie’s eyes brighten at your words. “All I can say is that I’m really glad my car broke down.”

Frankie laughs at that. “Yeah, but we’re gonna get that fixed for good, alright?” You nod at him, beaming when he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” you remark, and he gives your hands one last squeeze before he steps away. As he walks back to his truck, you call after him. “Text me when you get home!”

Frankie turns around and tips his hat on his head. “I was already planning on it!”

You bite back a smile and nod, turning around with a warm heart to let yourself into your home. You and Frankie spend the next few weeks seeing each other as much as possible, whether it be going to dinners out or just staying in at one of your homes—including one night spent at Frankie’s place watching the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special. That night, you end up accidentally falling asleep in his arms on the couch, and you wake up in the morning just to laugh along with Frankie. Thankfully, it’d been a Friday night, and neither one of you had work that morning.

On Thanksgiving—or, rather, Friendsgiving as you both called it—you’re with your group of friends but constantly hold a text conversation with Frankie. He tells you about the antics going on with his friends as you tell him about the way your friends are absolutely pelting you with questions about Frankie. You ask about dessert and he tells you that his friends definitely don’t know how to put desserts together, so with the permission of the friend who’s hosting, you invite Frankie over. He comes and draws the immediate attention of your friends, who openly admire him and his friendliness in a way that has your heart swelling with affection and happiness.

One of your favorite moments comes when you get to meet Frankie’s friends. You’ve been together for well over a month, now—though it practically feels like forever. Christmas is coming around the corner and Frankie tells you that his buddies are doing a little get-together and they’re very eager to meet you. You, of course, accept the invitation, and you soon find yourself with your hand tight in Frankie’s as you walk up to his friend Will’s house. Before you enter, Frankie stops you, giving you a soft yet serious look.

“I know I’ve told you this before, but they’re… a little much,” Frankie says with a laugh. “If it becomes too much, just let me know, okay? I’ll have them get off your back.”

“I can handle it,” you assure him, giving his cheek a kiss before you gesture towards the door. Frankie nods with a smile and moves to open it, knowing it won’t be locked as he does so. You’re both met with loud cheers and a blur of hugs and warm handshakes. You can already tell how the group acts like a little family, a thought that makes you smile as you continue holding Frankie’s hand and follow him into the living room.

Will hands you and Frankie a drink, and you cuddle a little closer into Frankie as he keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You see the guys giving each other looks upon seeing it, and you look up to Frankie with a giggle to see him simply shaking his head at you. They ask if it’s okay for them to practically just interview you, and you laugh as you agree and start answering their questions with honesty and grace.

“First kiss?” Benny asks, going on the countless round of questioning as his eyes glitter with mischief yet friendliness.

“While ice skating on the first date,” you answer, earning a dramatic aw from your “crowd” that has Frankie rolling his eyes.

“Fish’s best feature?” Will questions with eyes narrowed in focus.

“His eyes,” you say.

“Really?” Frankie asks, and you look up at him with a nod.

“Obviously,” you retort, watching his cheeks flush red and tapping his nose just to make it a little worse. He pushes your hand away playfully as you laugh and face the boys again.

“Fish’s worst feature?” Tom dares to ask.

“His lack of self-care,” you insist. When Frankie gives you an incredulous look, you shake your head up at him. “You need to care for yourself as much as you do for others, babe.”

Frankie simply shrugs in response, hiding yet another blush by sipping his beer. You snort and turn to face the group.

“Alright, alright, I think we’ve overwhelmed her enough,” Santiago insists, drawing a laugh from you as he moves to stand up. “I think it’s time for some of these gifts.”

Frankie tells you that they do a Secret Santa every year amidst the panic of you definitely having not brought anything, but you’re both surprised when Santiago hands a little wrapped box to you. They make you open it last, wanting to soak in your reaction as you do so. When you unwrap it and open the box, you can’t help the wide smile from taking over your features as you pick up a dog tag necklace.

“It’s engraved with Fish’s details from back in the day,” Santiago explains.

“You guys didn’t have to do this,” you say, but there’s so much warmth in your tone as you admire the sweet gift. You hand it to Frankie, who looks at it with just as much awe and admiration.

“Of course we did,” Will insists with a smile. “But don’t thank us just yet.”

You furrow your brow. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly, there’s a quiet jingling sound from above your head, and you and Frankie look up simultaneously to see Benny standing over you with a mistletoe hanging from his hand. The group laughs as your realization sets in, and you both shake your heads before you lean in for a quick kiss that sends them into utter chaos. Benny walks back to where he’d previously been sitting and deals out high fives with the guys while you and Frankie just sit there and laugh at their dramatic reactions. By the end of the night, you truly feel like a part of their little family.

But your favorite moment of the winter comes on Christmas Day, when you’re having a little celebration with just Frankie at your place. You decided to spend it together, much rather having the comfort of each other rather than the panic of trying to get last-minute flights and time off to visit your families. You’re sitting on the couch in front of the small fireplace, watching as he unwraps some of the gifts you’ve given him—including the new, leather watch he instantly straps on his wrist. You can tell, though, that Frankie’s much more excited for you to open yours, and you go through a few nice things before reaching the last box. Frankie’s eyes are set completely on you as you open it, your lips parting in beautiful awe as you observe the silver necklace laying within. It’s a small snowflake with a diamond in its center, and when you look back up at Frankie, you can see the same glow of the diamond within his gaze.

“I know you have the necklace from the guys,” Frankie says, “but I saw that you put that on your car mirror instead, and I just—I really wanted to give you some sort of, you know, promise necklace, I guess. And I picked a snowflake because we met during the first snowfall of the season, and then our first kiss was because of the snowflake on your eye.” Frankie stops his rambling to search your gaze with a bit of concern. “I hope you like it.”

“I love it, Frankie,” you assure him in a hushed voice, thanks to your sudden emotion from the sweet gift. When you get lost in his gaze, you feel a bolder part of you emerge as you swallow hard. “Actually I… I think I love you.”

Frankie’s dark gaze glitters as brilliantly as you’ve ever seen it, and you watch his lips part in disbelief for a moment before he smiles wide at you. “I think I love you, too, baby.” With that, his hands reach for the sides of your face and pull it to his in a kiss more passionate than you’ve ever received from him. The heat radiating from both your beating hearts rivals that of the fire you sit in front of as your mouths move in perfect and graceful sync, your shared confessions being translated in this physical expression before you pull away with heavy breaths and wide smiles.

Once you’ve caught your breath, you pick up the box again, handing it to Frankie. “Can you put it on for me?” you ask, and Frankie nods earnestly as he takes the necklace out of the box and clips it in place around your neck. His touch lingers there for a moment, his fingertips brushing over the skin as his lips soon follow. Frankie leaves a few gentle kisses there that make your skin erupt into pleasant goosebumps, and instinctively you lean forward to give him more access. His arms settle on your middle as he pulls you closer to himself.

“You’ve given me a lot of great things today,” Frankie mumbles, his breath fanning over your neck as he does so, “but I think the greatest gift was the words you just spoke to me.”

You smile as you spin your head around as best as you can, reaching a hand back over your shoulder to hold his cheek. “I might be able to think of something a little better,” you hint in his same hushed tone, fingers dancing along the skin of his cheek as you try your best to bite back the growing smile.

Frankie’s gaze glitters with desire yet concern as he brushes some of the hair away from your face. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

You spin around to fully face him, straddling his lap as you rest your forehead against his. “I promise,” you begin, taking his hat and tossing it to the side so you can thread your fingers through his hair, “as long as you’re okay with it, I’m very much ready to prove what I said before.” You press a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips. “That I love you, very much.”

Frankie finally gives in with a smile that melts against your lips, his hands gliding over your sides and making you warmer than any fire ever could. By the end of the night, you’re wrapped up in Frankie and the warm blankets atop the couch, donning nothing but the necklace he’d gifted you with a heart that’s fuller than glasses of eggnog left untouched on the coffee table.

Before you know it, New Year’s Eve rolls around, and you and Frankie are spending it at a lively bar with the boys—though all your attention’s solely focused on each other. The countdown begins when you each get a glass of champagne in your hands, but not without Frankie murmuring something about oh, so fancy! that makes you laugh into the button-up covering his chest. You join in with the crowd as you look up to the TV that shows the glowing ball in Times Square, counting down each second until the clock strikes midnight. There’s a joyous cheer that’s drowned out the moment you and Frankie share a kiss, pulling away to press your nose against his with a smile.

“Happy New Year, my love,” you say in a breath barely breathed, your smile growing as you watch his dark eyes sparkle in that favorite manner of yours.

“Happy New Year, baby,” Frankie responds before he captures your lips with his again, seeming to completely forget your surroundings—but so do you.

By the time the snow starts melting away that winter and the buds of flowers start to peek out, you and Frankie are moving into a townhouse of your own. You’re about to reach for another box when you watch birds soaring above, returning back from their winter homes. You look to Frankie who’s just joined you at your side, watching as he tries to find the source of the look of wonder in your eyes. “I can’t believe the winter’s over already,” you confess. “I don’t even remember it being cold for that long.”

Frankie chuckles softly, wrapping you into a warm embrace and placing a kiss on top of your head. “That’s because spending the winter together made it feel much warmer,” he insists, pulling away from the hug to instead watch you roll your eyes at his cheesiness and join him in a sweet kiss.

And as cheesy as the words might’ve been, you know there’s truth to them—and you know that winter’s bound to be your favorite season, now, thanks to Frankie.

series parts: summer, fall, winter

permanent tag list: @mikahidalgo @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @javier-djarin @nettyklecan @mistermiraclee @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @smellssharpies @catfishingmorales @badassbaker @wille-zarr @kaetastic @saltywintersoldat @agentpike @mrsparknuts @readsalot73 @yespolkadotkitty @mandhoelorian @lilangeldevil006 @cyaredindjarin @roxypeanut @phoenixhalliwell @hail-doodles @randomness501 @this-cat-is-dea @hopplessdreamer

seasons with frankie tag list: @abuttoncalledsmalls @agirllovespasta @kindablackenedsuperhero @iellaren-uodo-rian @havenforafrazzledmind

frankie morales tag list: @themandadlorian @chibi-liz05

#frankie if you're not careful i'll marry you #right now #and ESPECIALLY when it's winter #frankie morales #catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #dindjarindiaries

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libra-kirishima · 4 years

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Kinktober Day 8- Masks/Costumes (??? x Reader)

(It's one of these four idiots.)

Warnings: NS/FW Content. (It's not quite dubiously consentual but it can be interpreted as sex under false pretenses? Imagine that scene in Revenge of the Nerds but consentual. I figured I'd put the warning at the top just in case the content is triggering to someone. Also dacryphilia if you squint.)

"Did you lose your Gomez, Morticia?" A muffled voice asked you. Shortly after, a man in a Darth Vader costume sits beside you on the couch at the edge of the room which you've situated yourself in.

"Huh?" Oh, your costume... "No, I came alone." You laughed. "Well, actually, I came with one of my best friends, but I think he might've left to hook up with this boy in Gen-Ed that looks like he hasn't slept since 2008." He laughed. "So I'm here alone now. What about you, Vader? You with someone?" He shook his head. "How sad..." You cooed. "Will you stay and keep me company then?"

"Of course." The man in the Darth Vader costume moved closer to you so you were sitting shoulder to shoulder.

The evening seemed to fly past you while you talked to the man beside you. After two hours debating whether or not Leia was force sensitive, and if she could have been a Jedi in Luke's position if he had died, you found yourself with your head resting on his shoulder, with one of his arms languidly wrapped around your shoulders.

"Tired?" He asked.

"Physically? No. But parties aren't really my thing." You answered with a small giggle. "My friend- the one I mentioned earlier- he got me to come with the promise that this guy I'm interested in would be here, but I guess he changed his mind." He took a lot of interest in what you were saying, but you didn't seem to notice. "Maybe he's just not that into me. I should probably move on."

He bit his lip inside of his mask to keep from letting out an audible "fuck yes!"

"But that's alright," You continued. "Because I met you! Hey, I don't normally do this, but will you drive me home? And if you want, we can watch a movie or something? Nobody's home right now."

You didn't have to ask him twice.

One short car ride later, in which you got very handsy as he tried desperately to keep from crashing due to both the limited vision of his mask and the feeling of your hands on his body, you made it home. Very little time was wasted opening Netflix and selecting a nature documentary series about sea creatures before your hands returned to his clothed form like they were moments before.

Behind the mask, he was convinced that he'd died and gone to heaven. He was normally a pretty unassuming guy. No flashy quirk or bold personality. Not particularly good looking. Plain was how Bakugou described him once. And his friend was right.

Yaoyorozu's Halloween party was a blessing in disguise. If he had known earlier that by the end of the night the girl of his dreams would abandon her crush on some other guy for one night to take him home without questioning who he was, he would have put up much less of a fight with Kaminari about going.

His gloved hands fisted your hair as you took his cock into your mouth, all the while he wished that he could take his stupid helmet off and get a good look at you. You pulled back all the way to flash him wide, innocent eyes as your tongue circled the tip. You were going to be the death of him. He thought to himself as you sunk all the way back down until your nose met his pelvis, and he felt your throat constrict around him. Watching you slip one hand under that tight dress of yours while you sucked the soul out of him was enough to send him over the edge. You once again took him back as far as you could when you felt him on the edge, and swallowed every drop when you felt his hot seed pour into your mouth.

He slouched back on your couch, still shaking and trying to catch his breath. Meanwhile you wasted no time once again, using your dominant hand to give his cock a few strokes while your other hand reached for the remote to click the "Yes, I'm Still Watching" button. It took only a few more flicks of your wrist and another flash of those babydoll eyes (now with makeup smudged in a ring under your eyelashes) for him to feel himself getting hard again.

"You're killing me, (Y/N)"

"Good." You answered with a grin.

"Is that dress comfortable?" He asked, moreso a question as to why you haven't taken it off yet.

"No!" You giggled. "But I look fucking hot, don't I?" You were so correct in that statement that he couldn't even find the words to answer your question. Instead choosing to nod enthusiastically as he tried to catch his breath.

You slid up off your knees to straddle his lap. Nimble fingers reached out for the base of his helmet, but he moved away. Your brows knit together as you tried again, met with the same result as last time. Your hands slid back down to rest on his shoulders.

"What? You can call me by my first name but I don't even get to see you?" You teased. He panicked when he realized he used your given name, trying (and failing) to keep you from noticing. "C'mon." Your hands moved to try a third time, but we're halted by the feeling of his fingers gripping your wrists. "Why not?" You whined.

"I don't want to ruin it for you." He answered sincerely. You rolled your eyes dramatically as you lined his cock up with your entrance.

"You're too tall to be Mineta. It's literally impossible for you to ruin it for me." You explained before lowering yourself down onto him. "Besides, you're comfortable enough with me to call me by my first name so that narrows the list of people you could be down to, like, five people." He said nothing as you bottomed out, and you took it as an invitation to pull his mask off.

His wide eyes met yours. All either of you could do was stare at each other in bewilderment. It was only a few seconds but to him it felt like years.

Finally you broke the silence.

"Sero you son of a bitch! I thought you didn't come to that stupid party!" You kissed him roughly, but pulled away far too quickly for his liking. "I was so disappointed. Do you have any idea how mad I was that you weren't there even though Kaminari said you would be? Don't answer that. Yes you did! Because I told you about it before we left." You kissed him again, pushing your tongue into his mouth before he could fully process what you had said. You rolled your hips once and he stopped you. Wide hands gripped your thighs tightly.

"Wait, that was me you were talking about?" He asked, absolutely bewildered.

"Duh. Who else would I be talking about?"

"I don't know. Kirishima?"

"Actually," You laughed "I thought you might be Kirishima, because he's the only other person that knows me by my given name who would have black body hair. And I am so glad that you're not because it means that I don't have to tell him that I'm sorry but I'm still interested in Sero." You both laughed for a while until you cut him off with "So can I please move now? Because this is killing me."

"Please do." He answered. You hurriedly lifted yourself up before sinking back down. His hands slid up from your thighs to pull that tight dress off of you, tossing it in the same direction that you tossed his pants some time ago.

Sero's fingers made quick work of removing your bra and playing with your nipples as he watched you desperately chase your own orgasm. Your lips caught his in a messy kiss, all teeth and tongue. Sero could taste himself on your tongue, but to him it was still perfect. Your skin was soft under his touch and your cunt seemed to pull him back in with every roll of your hips as though he belonged there. Your mascara was in streaks down your face and your lipstick was smeared across one cheek from earlier. What little remained on your lips was swiftly transferred to him when you pulled him in for another kiss. You were a mess, riding him like you were born for this. And as Sero watched you cum while on top of him, he knew he wouldn't want it any other way.

"So can I take you on a date after this?" He asked after you had stopped shaking.

"Hanta, it's 3 in the morning."

"Not now." He rolled his eyes.

"I would really like that." You answered, hands moving to peel his shirt off. With a small smile, you curled yourself into his now bare chest. "You're fucking sexist for thinking that Leia couldn't be a Jedi, by the way."

"How is that sexist?!"

You had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

#written before we all had to wear masks and there were no parties 😔#sero x reader #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha smut #ns/fw #kinktober #pronouns used: she/her/hers

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 4 years

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Traditions Old And New

Summary: It’s Kaisa’s first Christmas with Johanna, and though she doesn’t want to, she can’t seem to stop thinking that her slightest mistake could ruin everthing.

Notes: Happy Holidays, guys!!! This fic is not at all canon compliant, but I promise I’ll post a better one in a few days. Hope you still enjoy this, though!

Read it on ao3

The winter months had always been held dear in Kaisa’s heart. It was, undoubtedly, the most magical time of the year.

That was, however, due to the Winter Solstice and the fact that she usually had more time to study magic during that season. Apart from that, she didn’t really have many strong feelings about the festive season. Her family had never truly celebrated it, and once Yule was over their few decorations would be stored away only to be seen the next year.

Clearly, things were bound to be different that Christmas.

“How many Christmas lights does one person need?” She thought to herself as she and Hilda stopped in front of a ridiculously decorated house. Webs of red lights climbed up the walls, as green lights were criss-crossed over them in the horizontal, making the house look like one big gift. Of course, she knew about Christmas decorations, but since the cold temperature usually made her inclined to remain at home or in the library, she’d never truly explored the city during winter to know that such peculiar tastes even existed.

“David’s family is… excited about Christmas, it seems.” The girl commented, moving with difficulty to the door of said house. Johanna had wrapped her in so much clothing that Kaisa didn’t even know how she managed to walk, but she was under no illusion that she wouldn’t take some layers off as soon as she turned her back.

“It’s… beautiful, isn’t it?” Kaisa asked, even though she didn’t agree. Their own house had been lavishly decorated for the holiday, an infinity of tiny details that made her fear she’d break one of them at any time. She’d been surprised when Johanna had pulled a huge box of Christmas decorations from their closet weeks ago, and it was that evening, as she and her daughter placed its contents all around the apartment, that Kaisa realized she’d signed up for something she was not in the least familiar with.

“I think it’s a bit of an eyesore, to be honest.” Hilda admitted, making Kaisa cringe. Bad move. “It blocks starlight.”

“Yes, right. Of course.”

Not knowing what to say, Kaisa would have allowed the silence to extend itself indefinitely had Hilda not spoken.

“You’ll pick me up when you’re finished?”

That was what the librarian had first suggested when they were leaving the house, but in Hilda’s eyes she saw a hope for for her to say ‘no’. Kaisa couldn’t blame her, certainly baking Christmas cookies with her friends was more interesting than helping her new step mother wrap presents.

“You know the way home, don’t you?”

“Sure.” Hilda shrugged.

“Then just be back before it gets dark. I won’t limit your time with the kids.”

Opening a big smile, Hilda hugged Kaisa’s waist. In return, she petted her head.

“Thanks Kaisa! You’re the best.”

_#_#_#_

After dropping Hilda off with her friends, the librarian found herself walking aimlessly around the streets of Trolberg. The stores were all either crammed with people or closed, and it served her well for waiting until the twenty third to buy her gifts. In her defense, Christmas shopping wasn’t something she was used to doing.

On her way to the bookstore, she passed by a jewelry store with a shining showcase, a small smile moving her lips as her feet stopped on their own in front of it. For a few fanciful seconds, she ran her eyes through the rings and imagined buying the middle one, one with a rose gold band and a stone that looked like the one in her wand, and giving it to Johanna. In her mind, she got down on one knee in front of that stupidly tall Christmas tree on their living room and asked for her hand in marriage right at midnight.

Shaking her head, she brushed those thoughts off. It was their first Christmas together as a couple, and they were already getting odd stares from people who thought they were moving too fast by moving in together after barely an year of dating. The ring would have to wait. Maybe next Christmas, she told herself, when they were both already sure of what life together felt like.

But the dilemma continued: what should she get Johanna? Hilda’s gift would be easy enough. All Kaisa would have to do was walk into the bookstore, select something that was absolutely too dangerous to be on a child’s hands, and be sure the kid would love it. But what about Johanna? Being not only her girlfriend, but also the librarian, she knew exactly what her taste in books were. There was something that didn’t please her about the idea of gifting her a book, though. Since she liked reading more than Johanna, it felt like she was taking her own wishes in consideration, rather than her girlfriend’s.

“Honestly.” Attracting some stares in her direction as she crossed the bookstore’s doors, Kaisa groaned. “A holiday has no business in being this hard.”

_#_#_#_

Left side, then the right side, next the bottom and the top, she thought to herself as she attempted to wrap bright red paper around the book she had bought for Hilda. It looked horrendous. A five year old could probably wrap a present better than that.

Kaisa was still frowning at her poorly done arts-and-crafts project when Johanna entered the apartment. As she closed the living room door behind herself, both the witch and the two pets that inhabited the house startled and looked up at her.

“That commission’s out of the way!” The woman stated cheerfully, referring to the client meeting she’d just gone to to deliver the project she’d worked on. Opposite to Freya, who had turned back to sleep when she realized it was Johanna that had returned and not some burglar, Twig ran to Johanna. “Now I’m free until after Christmas.”

Kaisa smiled as she watched her girlfriend take off her coat and beanie and crouch down to pet Twig. She knew how much it mattered to Johanna to be free for the holidays. Recently, she’d discovered that the festive season meant a great deal to the family she’d just joined. Since it had been just the two of them (or three, if you counted Twig) in the wilderness, their traditions was as well established as they were tightly knit.

Christmas mattered a lot in that house, and it was all the more fuel for Kaisa’s nerves. She was the odd one out there, and though they never made her feel like such, she knew she was. Anything she did wrong would taint years worth of good memories, and it felt almost like an impossible task to not ruin anything.

Without noticing it, she had lowered her eyes back to the gift she’d attempted to wrap, noticing that her catowl had fallen back asleep on top of her supply of wrapping paper. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if she was getting anywhere with that, anyway.

“Kai?” Johanna called her attention with a soft tone as she sensed some melancholy in her girlfriend’s demeanor. Before the witch noticed it, Johanna had sat down cross legged by her side.

“Don’t look down!” She said quickly. “I don’t… I don’t want you to see your gift.”

Chuckling, Johanna smiled at her. “Don’t worry, I’ve no reason to look anywhere but at you.”

Even as she blushed and as her short hair fell over her face, the fact that something was still bothering her didn’t escape Johanna’s notice, and she gently closed her fingers around Kaisa’s wrist.

“Is everything alright, sweetheart?”

“It is!” Kaisa assured her way too quickly. “I just realized that I don’t really know how to wrap presents.”

Squinting just slightly, Johanna looked deep into Kaisa’s eyes to try and find any signs that she was lying. Though there weren’t any, she correctly assumed there was something else bothering her, but didn’t press for more information. She’d tell her when she felt comfortable with it.

“Well, you don’t have to wrap them. You told me once that your father would ask his familiar to hide your gifts and you had a little hunt on Yule night. Why don’t you do that? Maybe Twig and Freya could hide them.”

Like she understood every word, Freya opened one eye as if to say “don’t you dare”. Still, it wasn’t her familiar’s lack of disposition that put her off the idea, but looking at Johanna and Hilda’s neatly wrapped presents by the base of the tree.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll keep on trying.”

“Okay, then. Don’t worry too much about that, Hilda is going to tear through it like a beast, anyway.” Kaisa forced herself to chuckle at that, knowing it was Johanna’s attempt to put her at ease. “Now hide those presents.”

“What?” She lifted her eyebrows and turned to her girlfriend. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t want me to see them and I want to cuddle. Come now, it’s terribly cold outside and you’re warm.”

Yes, Kaisa thought as they both laid down on the carpeted floor after she had put the gifts behind the tree. I need to keep on trying. For her.

_#_#_#_

Early morning sunlight streamed in through the window, lighting up Johanna’s side of the bed, but not hers. Kaisa sat there, alone in the dark except for her owlcat, which purred in her lap as she ran her fingers through her mixture of dark feathers and fur.

“I’m worried, Freya.” She whispered. Though it might seem silly for the outside observer for someone to talk to their pet, the bond between a witch and their familiar was strong enough for Kaisa to know Freya understood every word. “What if they realize how different my reality has always been? How I know nothing of their world? Maybe she’ll think… maybe she’ll think we’re too different to be together.”

Noticing the tears on her witch’s eyes, Freya finally stopped purring and stretched herself so their foreheads would touch.

Ever since she and Johanna had begun dating, she’d been introduced to a universe of light. Late night calls, morning walks, making cocoa for each other, baking cookies when they felt like it and reading together under the covers. All those things once so distant had become her routine, one undoubtedly filled with warmth. It was only with the cold outside that Kaisa was coming to realize how unfit for warmth she was. Still, she wanted to keep it. Oh, how she wanted to keep all she’d been given, even though she well knew she had nothing to give in return.

She desperately wanted to get that right.

Still trying to calm herself down by connecting with her familiar, Kaisa startled when a scream and a loud thud echoed in the apartment, getting up in a hurry without as much as changing out of her pajamas. She ran to the living room while terrible scenarios crossed her mind, and gasped when she arrived to see Hilda on the floor.

“What is happening?!”

To her surprise and relief, the girl giggled.

“I was trying to reach the top of the tree to put the star on, but I lost my balance.” She explained while Johanna offered her a hand to get her up again, and Twig sniffed her feet as he worriedly looked for wounds.

“Good thing Alfur had suggested we put some pillows on the floor in case this happened.” Johanna said, making Kaisa notice both Tontu and Alfur had been watching the attempt to finish decorating the tree. “This tree certainly is taller than the one we had back at home. And you’re getting heavier too, young lady.”

“Must be all those jorts.” Hilda joked. Johanna smiled, even though it looked tight. It was clear that the girl hadn’t been hurt, but judging by how Johanna rolled her shoulders and grimaced upon doing so, it was clear that trying to lift her daughter up hadn’t been the greatest idea.

“Maybe we would have more success if you helped!” The woman chirped as she tried to not let her soreness show, which made Kaisa look away from her.

She’d already received the invitation to help with the star when she woke up, but knowing that this was something the two of them were used to doing together, she denied. Johanna had probably only asked her to be polite, for she certainly would not want anyone intruding in her bonding moment with her daughter. With Hilda going out with her friends so much, she didn’t get as many of those as she used to. The fact that the first year when that had gone wrong was also the first Christmas in which Kaisa was with them made her feel like it was her fault, somehow.

Not to mention that she didn’t want Johanna to notice she’d been on the brink of crying moments before.

“No, I don’t think I’d be much help. I’m shorter than you and definitely not stronger.”

“Oh.” Both girls looked crestfallen, though Kaisa couldn’t tell why. It was true, and it was not like she could change her height.

“Well, in that case, why don’t we go make breakfast? We can try again later.”

Hilda nodded. “Great idea!”

She headed to the kitchen, and Johanna stayed behind to offer Kaisa her hand. Regardless of her nervousness, the librarian smiled when her girlfriend courteously said “after you.”

Once the three of them were already in the kitchen, the nisse hopped down from the couch and picked the golden star up.

“I don't get it.” He whispered to Alfur. “Ain’t she a witch? I thought height shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Don’t be rude.” The elf chided, gesturing for him to put the star down. “Clearly, for some reason she doesn’t want to do magic. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her it inside the house.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Alfur shrugged and looked at the kitchen, noticing right away how something was off with the newest member of their household. “Humans are terribly complicated.”

_#_#_#_

On Christmas morning, there was still no star on top of the tree. None of them had payed any mind, though. What was under the tree had been way more interesting.

The first to open her presents was Hilda. From her mother, she received another sweater knitted by Johanna herself, and from Kaisa, a small book of illustrations of legendary creatures. That was just a distraction, however. Inside the book there was a note explaining Kaisa had hidden the real gift under her pillow, the most informative book there had ever been written about the Barghest. Technically, it had no dangerous information in it, but in Hilda’s hands one could never be sure. Kaisa just hoped she’d found a middle ground between ‘too boring’ and ‘exciting enough to give her ideas’. Luckily, she knew even her distractor present would not take the prize of the dullest book given, for with a lot of pride Alfur had given the girl a book on elf laws.

Next, the creatures opened their gifts. Johanna and Kaisa had agreed to give a stationary set to Alfur, and a cookbook to Tontu. Hilda also gave them trinkets that had made her think of them, and even Twig got a little Christmas hat.

When it was Johanna’s turn, Kaisa got a bit embarrassed to see her struggling to open her rough wrapping, but at least the fact that she seemed to enjoy her gift helped her. It was a picture frame of beautifully carved wood, forming flower and vine patterns. Since she’d found that gift a little dry, Kaisa had also put a picture she had of Johanna and Hilda on the frame. She would have rathered give her a photograph where the three of them were there, but the only one she had was from the day she’d accidentally helped Hilda set a banshee loose on the city, and she didn’t think Johanna would appreciate remembering that. With that out of the picture, her options had been a photograph of her and Johanna, or Johanna with Hilda, and she thought the first option would seem imposing and inconsiderate.

Just like Hilda, Kaisa also got a sweater made by Johanna herself. It was purple with a pattern that resembled book spines around the brim, and a bigger picture in the middle of something that was probably Johanna’s attempt at making a catowl. Freya sniffed it with distrust.

It was Hilda’s gift that put her off. The girl was well-meaning, Kaisa knew she was, but one look at the book she’d gotten her made her stomach curl.

“It’s a book on witch tales!” She stated happily, as if Kaisa hadn’t recognized it at first sight. “I thought you’d enjoy it, I know I love seeing myself in stories.”

Whatever deity there was out there, they could certainly hear Kaisa’s prayer for Hilda to not have read any of those stories, and only have selected that book because she liked the moon drawn on the cover. She knew those tales by heart. She remembered reading them on the school library and going home crying to her mother about why they were seen like that. All those stories were about wicked witches, who stole children and cursed ladies, and always burned in the fire in the end.

Hilda would never do that to her, she told herself as she made herself smile and thank the girl. But the more she tried not to, the more she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Hilda knew what those tales were about, and still saw Kaisa as the witch in all of them.

Bad mood was certainly not the way to be on Christmas morning, so when the gift opening was over, she made her best effort to put on a happy face as Johanna, Hilda and Twig went to the park for their yearly Christmas snowball fight. Wearing the sweater Johanna had given her, she could almost pretend she was supposed to be there.

“Alright, Kaisa, the rules are simple.” Hilda said as they arrived at a clearing in the park. Aside from them, few families had also left the comfort of their homes that morning. “It’s all against all, except for Twig who is with me. Alright?”

“Sounds fair enough.” When was the last time she’d had a snowball fight? Kaisa couldn’t remember.

The fact that she was rusty did not make her gain any mercy from the two of them. For barely a second, she looked up to see droplets of ice hanging from the trees, admiring how ethereal they looked in the almost empty park, and that was enough for something cold to be thrown at her arm. Looking down, she saw her jacket had been hit by a snowball, and judging by how Johanna was hiding a childlike smirk behind her hand, she was certain she knew who it had come from.

To her surprise, she found herself laughing along as she knelt down to make a snowball of her own, both women being hit by Hilda’s while she was at it. Kaisa first got back at Johanna, but directed one at Hilda soon after, and immediately they fell into an erratic rhythm of attacking each other and trying to dodge enemy balls, often hiding behind the trees.

Forgetting what had been troubling her, Kaisa chuckled freely was the freezing air filled her lungs and made her skin become pink, not caring if she was quickly becoming drenched. This was easy enough to do, and both Hilda and Johanna were clearly having a good time as well. This was fun.

It was beginning to dawn on her that if all their traditions were this delightful, maybe she could take a chance on some of them, when something began feeling wrong. Her hands were feeling hot, and not because of the icy burn from the snow.

As she looked down at them, she gasped loudly. They were glowing purple, and so were her snowballs, which floated magically in the air to be thrown in any direction at her will. She’d gotten so caught up in the fight she didn’t realize she’d begun using magic.

Instinctively, she shook her hands, which sent the snow flying all around the park. She was about to look at Johanna and hope for a sign that she hadn’t seen what had been happening when Kaisa heard a gasp from behind her which certainly wasn’t from anyone she knew.

“She murdered my snowman!” Shouted a boyish voice. Kaisa turned back in horror to see that there was a child with thick brown hair pointing at her, his mother by his side with her face twisted in anger. Between them, what was once a snowman now had a hole through it, from which purple goo dripped.

“She’s a witch!” Cried the mother. “Stay away from her, Trevor! Come on, let’s go!”

After getting up in record time, the woman grabbed her son’s hand and dragged him away, though she couldn’t stop him from shouting.

“See?! I always knew this family was evil! That one’s a witch too!”

Kaisa felt her feet rooted to the spot as she watched the two of them go away. Upon feeling a warm hand on her shoulder, she shuddered.

“I think it’s best if we go away.” Johanna said softly just in time for Kaisa to realize that even though there weren’t many people in the park, they were all looking at her with worry in their eyes.

“Yeah, come on.” Hilda tugged on Kaisa’s jacket’s sleeve, urging her to move when she seemed to be paralyzed by the stares. “That boy will make a fuss over anything, anyway.”

The walk back to their home was a silent one, which seemed to last an eternity. Kaisa cursed herself, feeling like all of the city’s eyes were on her, judging her. This family had never been anything but good to her, and how had she repaid them? By making them look like monsters.

As soon as they were inside again, Alfur’s cheerful voice greeted them.

“You’re back early! How was the fight?”

He seemed to realize he shouldn’t have asked when Kaisa sniffed, pretending the cold had given her a runny nose. Nobody was fooled, though. Her upset was clear.

“Kaisa, it’s okay.” Johanna said as she tried to unbutton her girlfriend’s jacket, a simple attempt to make her focus on something other than worrying. “Don’t beat yourself up for that.”

Sensing that something was wrong, Freya went flying to where they were and landed close to Twig. The two hybrids seemed to be having a private conversation.

“Yeah, we’d already had problems with that boy.” Hilda added as she took off her boots. “Trevor is a jerk.”

“It’s not okay!” Kaisa bursted suddenly, making Johanna take back her hands. “I humiliated you in front of all these people! I acted exactly like he described! Evil!”

She slid all the way down to the floor, her back against the door.

“Kaisa, what is happening?!” Asking with urgency, Johanna kneeled down in front of her girlfriend. “It’s literally just a snowman! You… you’ve been acting weird for weeks now. Since we decorated It’s like you’re stepping on imaginary eggs, and I have no idea why! Just talk to me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Her eyes were red, Johanna noticed when Kaisa met her gaze. Hilda sat down as well and put a hand on the librarian’s arm.

“It’s not about the snowman at all, is it?”

The child’s soft whisper was enough to make her spill a tear, and she looked down so they wouldn’t notice.

“I just… I know my presence is not what you were used to. Especially in a time that is so important, and I don’t want to ruin it! I don’t want you to feel like you need to change little things that are dear to you just because I’m here now, and I certainly don’t want to give you a bad name. And… I also know dealing with magic is not something you like or feel comfortable doing. I don’t want you to sacrifice anything to accommodate me. You’ve done so much for me, both of you, and it feels like the least I can do is not ruining your favorite holidays.”

Their brows drawn together, mother and daughter exchanged a look as they began to understand the situation a little better. Hilda spoke up as gently as she could.

“Kaisa. You live in a house where a Deerfox is considered a pet. Where an elf lives in a clock and the nisse pops in for dinner. One where ever so often is visited by another witch or boy who has battled alongside immortal vikings. Do you really think you wouldn’t be welcome here?”

Kaisa looked up at her with her eyes shining with unshed tears.

“So much has changed since it was just the two of you in your house.” Kaisa whispered, even though she didn’t know why she was arguing against herself. It just felt good to finally admit what had been upsetting her. “You’ve both already told me the difference gets hard to bear sometimes. I know there will inevitably be changes, but I just wanted to much to be a good one.”

More drops spilled from her lashes, traveling down her face. Johanna had gotten nearer while she had been speaking, close enough to catch a tear with her thumb. Kaisa glanced up at her girlfriend, thinking she probably looked ridiculous, crying on the floor over nothing.

“I just want so much to get this right, Anna. I don’t want you to regret this.”

Silence hung over them for a moment, though Johanna was certain she could hear a small crack opening in her heart at seeing her strong and confident girlfriend reduced to tears over this. The situation was too close to the talk she’d once had with Hilda on the observatory, during the day of the bird parade. She’d failed all over again.

“Sweetheart.” Johanna’s voice was heavy with emotion, and she herself had begun tearing up. “You never had to worry about this. I love you. Not some version of yourself. You, all that you are, with all your magic and quirks. And you’re right, things are changing for us, but it’s not the end of what we had, it’s a beginning of something even better.”

Taking Kaisa’s hands in her own, she tried to put in words what she clearly hadn’t been able to before. Had she been able to communicate better, or to foresee the pressure her comments about her adaptation to her new life and to magic would put on Kaisa, she might have been able to prevent her from feeling that way.

“But out of all the new things in our lives, I struggle to think of any better than you.” She finished.

“You” Kaisa dried her tears with the back of her hand. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do. I don’t want a life without magic, Kai. Especially if that means a life without you.”

Although she cried, now it was with relief, and she was too overcome with happiness to stop herself from lunging forward to hug Johanna, who caught her even though it made her lose her balance and fall on her backside.

When they went to sleep that night, the star was finally on the tree, and all who had seen it being put on place agreed that watching it be surrounded by purple magic and levitated to the top was a much more interesting tradition than anything other families had.

#look its my first fic with the name kaisa #my fic #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship hilda #hilda spoilers #hilda s2 spoilers #hilda fanfic

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cotncandyboifics · 3 years

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1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 9

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,043

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: swearing, food/meal mention, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: the massive amounts of gay panic. this chapter was fun to write

...

Roman returned to find his room far less lively. The tall nerd and the short puffball have seemingly disappeared! Of course Roman knew they'd likely just gone home, but what fun is life without a little exciting drama?

The only one left was Virgil, who was curled in on himself on Roman's bed, a pillow in his lap and phone in his hands yet again. Roman sighed dramatically, sprawling out beside his darkly dressed counterpart.

"Is this what they meant when they said 'get a room?'" He commented after a long boring silence, waggling his eyebrows when Virgil looked at him with wide eyes.

"Oh shut up," Virgil looked away, slamming his pillow into Roman's face in a fit of deja-vu.

"Oh come on! Look up the word joke in the dictionary, Jack Smellington!" Roman said exasperatedly. Virgil shook out his luminescent hair, which was now out of his hood and proudly on display. Roman couldn't convince himself to look away.

"As much as I appreciate being compared to one of my favorite Disney characters, that was a bit- what?" Virgil looked at him confusedly, and that's what finally got Roman to look away.

"Nothing." He said shortly. He considered apologizing, but he figured that would make him look worse. Virgil just laughed lightly, not awkwardly. Mostly to himself about Roman's dorkiness. Roman felt his face heat up, and hated himself for it.

"Well, I should probably get home..." Virgil flopped back onto Roman's bed, stretching his arms out above his head. his shirt lifted slightly to follow, and Roman caught a glimpse of his navel, as well as some impressively sharp hip bones, and the very gentle start of a V-line. He forced himself to look away that time. Getting caught looking at someone's hair is one thing, but... but that, was something else entirely. Roman was already in dangerous waters, and he knew it.

"Ehem, well, I know you denied me last time," Roman began, flopping down beside Virgil and looking up at his pride flag, "but the offer of a ride is still up for grabs. Unless you'd rather be stuck on the bus at night for half an hour." Roman crossed his arms over his chest, and Virgil sat up to lean over him. He nearly opted to retort and deny the offer more snarkily than last time's failed attempt, but...

Roman's eyes. He'd never been close enough and calm enough simultaneously to really look at them; they were a deep melted milk chocolate brown, and held nearly imperceptible flecks of shining red. Virgil's eyebrows knit together, and he leaned closer to look into Roman's eyes more properly.

He didn't realize what he'd done until he'd started to reach down, almost putting his hand on Roman's cheek, and Roman made a small squealing noise to go with his completely tomatoed face. Virgil gasped slightly louder than he'd meant to and immediately recoiled.

"Shit, sorry, I just..." he considered shutting his ridiculous mouth and trying to move on, but he figured he couldn't leave that one without some kind of excuse. "I just haven't really looked at your eyes before. Not like, really, I mean. They're... nice. I like the little red bits." His voice grew much quieter as he spoke. He was facing away from Roman, and thank god, because if Roman could see his face he'd see peach-colored cheeks and a childish smile. And how very uncharacteristic of Virgil that would be.

"Thanks," Roman finally managed to huff. He stood slowly, trying to gather himself, and walked over to his desk, grabbing his car keys. He jangled them in his fingers, raising his eyebrows and silently asking Virgil if he'd take him up on the ride offer. Virgil, who had barely managed to discipline his face before Roman turned to him, just smiled very slightly and nodded.

Virgil grabbed his backpack, and Roman led the way from his room and out the front door to his ridiculous shiny-red mustang, which happened to have white racer stripes. Virgil thought this was pretty funny, but kept a sarcastic tease to himself for once in his life.

Virgil texted Roman his address from the passenger seat. While the bus ride to Virgil's house from Roman's was about 20-30 minutes, the car ride was less than 10. Roman considered putting on some music, but decided against it, considering what happened the last time they were alone with just music and each other. What the heckity heck is happening here? When I imagine... love... this is what comes to mind. He cringed at himself, surprised and disgusted that he was admitting that. This doesn't feel the same as it does with Logan though... so then, maybe I truly love Logan, and Virgil just inexplicably makes my heart flutter? Of course, the only other possibility is so much worse-

Roman's thoughts were interrupted by Virgil shouting "RED LIGHT!!!" very suddenly, and Roman slammed the breaks.

"Jesus Princey, are you trying to kill me!? Is that why you were so hell-bent on driving me home??" Virgil's voice was mostly panic, but laced with some half-hearted sarcasm. He clearly had more panic and less sarcasm in it than he'd meant to. He was holding onto his seat and the door beside him for dear life, looking at Roman with wide eyes, his chest heaving comically. Roman was too dazed to laugh.

"Shit, I'm sorry," He looked up at the street light, which was in fact red. "I got lost in thought for a minute. I won't let it happen again while I'm responsible for you. My deepest apologies." Roman would have normally faux bowed and reached out for Virgil's hand to kiss his knuckles, but unfortunately Virgil was making him feel... well, bitterly jittery and not very glittery. Or maybe, too glittery. He didn't know anymore; all he knew is he had to leave his thoughts for when he got Virgil and then himself home safe.

"Lost in thought?" Virgil let that little comment slip sooner than he could corral himself, and almost brought his hand to cover his mouth, but far too late. Roman just looked at him anxiously, sighing.

"Yeah. I guess so." Roman wasn't normally this dismissive, and Virgil knew far better at this point than to press.

Before they were even on Virgil's street, he broke their awkward silence with an extremely unexpected "thanks for driving me home, Ro. You didn't have to, and I really appreciate it."

Roman was shaken to the core, partially by Virgil's sincerity and partially by the nickname. "Oh, uh, well, no need to thank me now. I nearly killed you once, and you aren't safe and sound at your destination just yet." He smiled softly over at the taller emo. Virgil just returned the smile.

A few moments later came a quiet "really though." Virgil's capacity for sincerity wasn't very extensive, and if anyone knew that it was Roman. He felt a blush creeping up his neck, and couldn't think of a good response.

Finally Roman turned onto Virgil's street, adhering to the 10 mph speed limit. He cruised to a stop in front of... what was apparently Virgil's house.

It wasn't what Roman was expecting at all. Not that his... notion, that Virgil's house looked something like Gru's house from Despicable Me, was something he thought was realistic. He just hadn't known how else to imagine it. Instead of anything close to dark and sinister, the outer walls were made of some gentle tan planks all stacked horizontally. There was a light turquoise front door with a rounded top, and to its left a large window covered most of the street-facing wall. In the window, Roman could see a round inviting table with a mother, a father and a young boy sharing dinner, all smiling and seemingly caught up in their nightly banter. They were all laughing and seemed so... happy. The house itself seemed to emanate a calm happiness.

"Is this...?" Roman gestured vaguely toward the house with the address Virgil had given him.

"Yep. There's my parents, and my brother. I guess I just missed the start of dinner." Virgil reached down between his ankles to grab his bag.

"Talk about clashing aesthetics." Roman smiled mischievously at Virgil, hoping to lighten the mood without sounding like a complete jerk, at least.

Virgil caught onto this, looking over and offering him a breathy laugh. "I know. It's almost a crime for me to live here."

Roman giggled, and they found themselves stuck looking into each other's eyes once again.

"W-well, I'd better-" Virgil turned and made to open his door, but something possessed Roman to lean over to Virgil and grab his shirt, accidentally pulling him far too close to his face. They both yelped simultaneously at the close proximity, and Virgil leapt back as far as his seat would allow him, grabbing it similarly to how he'd done when Roman had nearly driven through the red light earlier.

Virgil almost said something, but some noise outside stopped him. He turned to seek its source, giving Roman a view past him as well.

"Virgil, honey, is that you?" his mom called from the doorstep. She held Atticus on her hip, and Virgil's dad towered behind them in the doorway. all of them were waving. Virgil waved back deftly, and opened the car door. He turned to Roman once again, who looked as though someone had just stomped on his heart and twisted their foot viciously.

Virgil couldn't bring himself to smile at him, but offered instead something he hoped sounded kind. "See you in class tomorrow. And... thanks again for the ride."

With that, Virgil got out and shut the door behind him, and Roman watched as he reunited with his picture perfect family, unable to move for some god forsaken reason.

"Is that one of your friends from that biology project, Virgil? He's so cute!" Roman could hear Virgil's mom squeal at her approaching son.

"Mom, leave it be, will you? he's-" Virgil's voice was cut off as their front door was shut. Roman eventually managed to take a single deep breath.

He twisted in his seat to face forward again, gripping the steering wheel with whitening knuckles and staring blankly at the mustang logo in the wheel's center. What. Was. That.

...

Roman's ride home was fast. At least, it felt much faster than the ride to Virgil's house. He didn't come close to running any more red lights, and before he knew it he was twisting the keys out of the ignition and then stepping through his front door.

He couldn't shake the daze that was clouding all of his senses. He wasn't intercepted by either of his parents on his route from the front door to his bedroom, so there was nothing to distract him from his... distractedness. He flopped onto his bed, laying on his back the same way he'd done less than half an hour ago when Virgil had almost...

That's when the haziness suddenly sped up, and the fog in Roman's brain rapidly became a hurricane. He was so confused by his own feelings that he had to squeeze his eyes shut to will away a sob. He didn't know what he was doing anymore. He pushed the palms of his hands against his closed eyelids, trying to distract himself with the aching pain and sparkling stars they brought to his eyes.

Meanwhile, Virgil had eaten dinner, thankfully and willingly accepting the pleasant distraction of his family's company. His mom was an excellent cook, and Atticus was extra animated about the stories of his adventures at school that day. He and his best friend had apparently played by the creek during recess, and found a tadpole to poke and prod. Virgil found his brother very endearing when he told his stories.

However, as all things are, his distraction was only temporary. Soon he found himself having finished the washing up after dinner and slowly trudging his way up the stairs to his room. The moment he shut his door behind him, all of the feelings that had been kept down since he'd gotten out of Roman's car crashed into him like a 20 foot wave. He leaned back against the shut door, sinking down to sit on the floor and hold his knees.

Roman and Virgil, clueless of each other, had the exact same thought at the exact same time.

Fuck. Why do I feel this way?

#ts patton #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #virgil sanders #prinxiety #virgil x roman #patton x logan #logicality #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #slow burn #high school au

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.10

...and Drink It with Gusto

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3400

Summary: Steve’s a bit difficult (poor baby), not that anyone blames him. Sam Wilson makes a confession – sort of.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, alcohol, unhealthy coping mechanism, sad sad Steeb

A/N: dropping the chapter early, because I won’t have time to post for a bit

Story masterlist

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The mission hadn’t been a shitshow, surprisingly enough, but the reports to Fury had been. Natasha had spent the rest of the day, whole night and a better portion of the next day at the SHIELD HQ, having to deal with everything, because Stark had quite literally fled. To be fair, he had at least taken care of Steve’s still unconscious and very much muscular (read ‘really fucking heavy’) form.

Tired and annoyed, Natasha finally landed with small jet at the Tower, making her way to her room, wishing nothing more but to shower and get some fucking sleep.

Of course, walking through the common room, she should have known she wouldn’t be that lucky.

She heard his icy yet somewhat cheery voice before she even saw him and it made her stop in her tracks, dreading facing him. She was too tired for his reproaches now.

“AH! There she is!”

Natasha took a deep breath, closing her eyes and mentally counting to three.

“Here’s ‘ur soulmate ex-pert!” Steve howled again, making her heart clench.

Black Widow was not a coward, but neither her nor Natasha liked dealing with feelings too directly – the jet was enough to get her fill for several years prior. She scanned the room before she would settle on him – and sure enough, she and Steve weren’t alone.

Bruce was standing indecisively by the door, torn and helpless expression on his face, his eyes one big question mark, asking Natasha how the hell he was supposed to deal with that.

Good question, Bruce, good question.

The smell of booze and Steve’s demeanour were unmistakable, but she silently asked anyway.

“Is he…?”

“Yeah. He… uhm… he found Thor’s stash,” the scientist answered her in equally hushed voice, inconspicuously pointing towards the counter where three flasks lay, emptied. Jesus.

Steve apparently heard and saw them anyway, because his voice bellowed again in reaction to their conversation. His words were slurred.

“Goooood friend Thor. Thou’ he t’ied to take my g’l. Nooot a g’d friend. Baaaad, bad friend.”

“Oh bozhe moy…” Natasha whispered under her breath and Steve turned to her, looking almost excited to see her.

Which didn’t mean he didn’t look like absolute shit. He had a t-shirt stained with the alcohol, his eyes red-rimmed, bruise-like dark circles under them as if he hadn’t slept for a year.

She hadn’t thought he could get worse than in the quinjet. Clearly, she was wrong.

“’tasha! Greeeeat ‘dvice you gave me,” he exclaimed, trying to rise from his spot on the couch where he had been half-lying like a dead fish casted ashore.

Natasha resisted the urge to massage her temples as the headache started to build. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach at the audible edge to his voice, the accusation glaring at her from his eyes.

“Steve…”

He finally stumbled to his feet and she noticed another flask secured in his right hand. He held it out as if he was pointing at her.

“Tried wat’ you s-said. Hurts,” he hiccupped, the sound blending with a sob. He cleaned his nose with the back of his hand hastily. “S-saw her grave. Fuck it hurts… ‘dis thing’s good ‘ough.”

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek, her mind racing. She didn’t need to call anyone for advice now. Her friend was shitfaced. The only thing she could do was to get him to bed and try not to antagonize him or trigger something worse than… whatever this was. She wasn’t sure if moving on from being snowed under work – voluntarily – was more or less healthy than drinking himself into oblivion. But she counted any change that wasn’t a step towards a suicide (possibly assisted by the last of Hydra goons) like a progress.

“Is he drunk?” Tony’s incredulous voice ringed from the doorway and Natasha didn’t even bother spinning on her heels to him, hearing him enter and close the distance between them as he stopped at her side. “Cap?”

Blood froze in Natasha’s veins and she was swift to call out, but it was too late. “No- don’t call-!”

So much for not triggering him and making it worse. She could see how he suddenly stood straighter as if he swallowed a wooden ruler, and an indefinable expression appeared on his face.

She gulped in anticipation of a storm.

“Cap!” he called out, mimicking Tony and the billionaire realized his mistake, judging by the silent dammit that left his lips. Steve raised the flask in a mock toast, turning around and nearly tipping over his feet. “Captain ‘merica! What a heeero! Cheers to him!” He took a long sip before continuing, his gestures animated. “Swin’ in, safe th’m all! Kill his g’l, why ‘ven care… hero, murd’r, potato, tomatho…” his voice slurred into a murmur, until he spotted a newcomer and came to life again. “Ah! Hey, Clint!”

Clint was quick to understand the situation and it took one glance at Natasha for them to agree what needed to be done. He approached Steve cautiously with his features emotionless.

“We should get you to bed-“

“Nope! No!” Steve howled instantly, taking several steps backwards to get out of Clint’s reach. His expression was dark, tears welling in his eyes. “Smell like h’r. Not ‘nymore. Hurts!” he sobbed, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, his figure swaying dangerously as he closed his eyes and lost the visual control of his balance. “Hurts!”

“Come on, Steve…” Clint coaxed him gently, attempting to close the distance between them again. His gaze flickered to Bruce and Tony and they took few steps towards Steve as well.

“Nope! Gotta-ta sssay sm’thin’!” Christ, Natasha had never seen him like this and she wanted to bleach both her eyes and ears. He pointed the flask at Clint resolutely. “You knew. You warn h’r. Fuck-fuck up. Shouldva told- I ain’t gettin’ killed. I kill h’r.”

“Steve…” Natasha approached him as well, grimacing when she saw the flash of emotion on Clint’s face.

Steve spun to her immediately, this time accusing her. “And you! Gooood job. Pushin’ us togthe’. You kill h’r too.”

“Hey! Watch it!” Tony snapped at him, running out of patience, but Natasha knew Steve didn’t quite mean it. Pushing them together wasn’t her fault – the fact she had tranquilized him was her sin and she was aware he had the right to be mad at her.

“Your friggin’ ‘stem! You too- n’t fly fast ’nough!“

“Steve, you’re wasted. You’re going to bed before you say more things you regret,” Bruce said calmly after Steve managed to finish his roll and blame another person.

Bruce speaking up gave the captain a pause and he looked like his brain froze. His brows knitted together and he nodded, another sob erupting from his throat, his inhale shaking his whole being as he crossed the distance to Bruce, murmuring.

“Regert. Her. My folt, no yours. Kill h’r. Miss her. Shouldva s-s-saved her. Pick h’r… love h’r. Hurts. Hurts s’much…”

Steve’s large frame enveloped Bruce, resting his whole impressive weight on him. The scientist was nearly tripped over – except a hint of green flushed his neck, Hulk coming to rescue before the other men and Natasha rushed to help. Steve went completely limp, the flask falling to the ground, the little liquid remaining in it spilling and staining the carpet. No one cared as they tried to support the supersoldier’s goo-like body, exchanging desperate glances.

“Well, that was… enlightening,” Tony summarized, his poor attempt at joke that not even he apparently believed in barely gaining any reaction.

Clint sighed. “Please, this is hardly any news. We knew he blamed himself.” He readjusted Steve’s arm he had slung around his shoulders and Tony’s right side of suit came to the rescue, taking most of the weight off from the billionaire. “I hate this, but I think he needs this.”

Natasha wasn’t so sure about that, but yeah, Steve definitely needed to start accepting the reality. It was probably a natural reaction to want to dull the pain with something else when work was off limits. She pressed her lips together as their whole grouped slowly made their way to Steve’s room.

“Let’s just get him to bed.”

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Not many people could probably brag they had Black Widow’s number. Well, probably no one could, because if they told a living soul, they’d meet their end. So Sam Wilson didn’t brag. And he sure as hell didn’t call her first.

That said, he did not hesitate when she called him with location and time to meet, no greeting, no goodbye. Rude, but he’d take it. He had more than one reason, not that he would advertise it.

So there he was, sipping coffee from a take-away cup as he sat in Central Park with Black Widow, both of them having the best super-spy disguise; sunglasses and baseball caps.

The silence between them was getting awkward and Sam couldn’t take the tension anymore.

“Well, this is much more… civil than our last meeting,” he noted casually, hating to admit he was… nervous.

“I’m not gonna say sorry,” Ms.Romanoff hummed back, sipping her latté.

“Guess I wouldn’t expect that…”

He didn’t expect her to face him either but she did, a reminiscence of a sad smile gracing her lips. The warmth around his heart was familiar and not entirely unwelcomed. He found himself longing after seeing her whole face.

“I’m saying thank you, though.”

Huh.

“Didn’t expect that either,” he admitted and one corner of her lips rose higher in a smirk. Sam had a hunch she loved surprising people – or rather shocking them. “How did it go?”

She huffed out a sound that could only mean frustration and Sam grimaced. Confrontation usually didn’t go very good, but this sounded awful.

“That well, huh?”

“No, no…” she shook her head, red curls swaying around her head elegantly. “He’s… an asshole. He fell asleep on a mission. In a cockpit. When he was piloting. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but God bless Stark’s inventions and auto-piloting,” she grunted and removed the cap of her cup before taking a long sip of her coffee.

She seemed to be gathering thoughts. Sam might not be able to see her eyes, but he did learn to read people. She didn’t like talking about feelings, but she was making an exception. Whether it was because of him, because of his job or because she wished to help her friend so badly, that remained a mystery. Either was pleasing though, the action itself intriguing Sam.

He had given her a lot of thought after their first unconventional meeting. He could not get her out of his head and for a good reason, of course.

He came to a conclusion that… despite her manners, she probably wasn’t a bad person. There were rumours about her past, but everyone had one. She was with the Avengers now, getting clean and the present and willingness to fix mistakes often mattered more than what had been done – especially when it came to a past like her own. Sam had made living by helping people dealing with their past actions and failures; judging her would be a hypocrisy and as far as he knew, he was a killer too. And if it came to it, he would punch, sliced or shot his way out again.

“It’s just… he’s… he’s really at the bottom,” she Natasha spoke softly, emotions lacing her voice. Regret. Compassion. Helplessness. Sam knew all those too well. “Seeing him going from one mission to another just to pass out in exhaustion was bad enough, because I knew it was wrong, but… seeing him drink himself into oblivion? One time only, but it was a nightmare. And seeing Steve doing nothing? Struggling to find a purpose, himself… that’s just…”

“It sucks. But he has a good friend in you. He needs time.”

“I know that, it’s… I wish there was someone hurting him so I could just punch them in their face and call it a day. But that one guy blew himself to hell and the others just… don’t really matter, getting them doesn’t do much help to Steve.”

Sam couldn’t help but smile softly as she said Captain’s name. It held a meaning – he was clearly dear to her and it went way beyond professional relationship. Not that the fact alone that she had shown up at Sam’s apartment the way she had wasn’t enough of an evidence. Not to mention her surprising openness.

“It’s a long way to recovery, Natasha.”

Her first name just slipped past his lips unwittingly, but he didn’t feel like apologizing. The informal space they found themselves in, the honest open conversation… first names suited it better. He was aware he sounded like he was speaking from experience on top of that, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know. She had done a thorough research on him.

As if she agreed with him feeling his surroundings and the atmosphere, she put away her glasses, her green eyes burning with honesty when she met his – he automatically lost the barrier too, because it felt unjust for her to be left… vulnerable like that.

“I’m truly sorry about poking at your past, Sam,”

Sam felt the last remains of hostility towards her resolve. That apology meant more than he had realized it would.

“Thanks. I get it, you know. Being worried for someone so much… he’s gonna be okay, eventually. Scarred, but okay.”

“He could be better than that…” she sighed, leaning onto the backrest of the bench tiredly.

“What was that?”

“When I confronted him on the plane… he told me he had another words,” she revealed hesitantly as if she wasn’t sure if it was her secret to tell.

Sam’s heart positively stopped. Was she telling the truth or was this a game? Did she know about his own too? He swallowed the panic when he saw her resigned gaze.

She wasn’t playing no game.

“Two soulmates. That’s rare,” he remarked, a lump growing in his throat. His palms started sweating and he hated it. Fortunately, Natasha didn’t seem to notice – or she politely ignored it, her voice dry and laced with a bit of irritation.

“He never wants to meet her.”

“That’s not rare.”

Sam would know. He had struggled with the same feeling, after all. He wanted to forget the world existed. He wanted to live peacefully and alone. It was probably no coincidence fate sent him Black freaking Widow as the one – if she was willing, Sam would not be alone. And definitely wouldn’t get ‘peace’.

If he was being truly honest with himself, he wouldn’t be able to say he minded.

“He thinks… he thinks he doesn’t deserve her or something.”

Sam sighed, mentally chuckling at the irony of fate once more. The Universe did have a messed up sense of humour, didn’t it?

“Because he thinks he blew his chance. Because he thinks that he will mess it up again and fail her. And it feels like being unfaithful,” he offered, venting his own feelings for the first time.

He had never told that to anyone, ashamed of the set of words sitting on his other collarbone, appearing shortly after Riley’s death. Why did he tell her of all people? He wanted to question his own actions, he barely knew the woman, but… there was a significant but, wasn’t there?

Her emerald eyes were searching on his face, recognition lighting them up. She fidgeted, something he hadn’t seen her do before and he was sure not many people had either. It was a privilege and while his heart started racing, seeing her nervous eased his own nerves the tinniest bit.

“…yeah. I guess. You… uhm, you dealt with someone like that too?” she asked, looking away, seemingly intrigued by something in the distance.

Sam didn’t buy it and swallowed loudly.

“Just one case in my whole carrier.”

“What did you tell them?” she queried gently, her shoulders tense.

Sam shrugged. He told himself a lot of things, but he wasn’t certain they were all presentable.

“Never figured it out. First, the meeting with his other soulmate was a bit unconventional. He kinda hated her,” he admitted, glancing at her with the corner of his eye. She gave almost an inconspicuous nod, her gaze casted down. She took it as a rejection, he realized. “Then he started thinking and realized she wasn’t too bad. He’s still struggling to make up his mind – whether he should try. Whether she would want to. She would be a catch though, no doubt,” he lighted it up, biting the inside of his cheek right after.

Was he really trying to flirt now?

One corner of her lips rose in a smirk. “Somehow I doubt that. Sounds like a bitch.”

Sam wanted to chuckle at the joke, but then her eyes lifted to him and his heart just… stopped, the amused sound stuck in his throat. He had to clear it to be able to speak up, but it did nothing under the intensity of her gaze.

“Not to me. Not anymore.”

Natasha licked her lips – and Sam would lie if he claimed he did not mirror the motion instinctively – and finished her drink.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you, huh? That must have been a pleasant surprise when it appeared,” she stated, a hint of amusement along with relief that the secret, the whatever that had been hanging between them, was finally addressed.

Sam snorted, not necessarily because he found his next statement funny.

“Yeah and I bet growing up in Russia and have an English soulmark must have been walk in a park.”

Good, there was so much sarcasm in his voice he might even feel ashamed. But the redhead – his second soulmate, holy shit, it really happened – didn’t seem to be offended.

“Wow, this almost beats the way Steve met his and that was some story….”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Silence fell on them then, both of them unsure how to continue and where to go from here. They found each other – their other half, supposedly, but no one could tell the outcome.

She was an Avenger. Sam was a therapist, a veteran at ridiculously young age, because he had lost his partner. They had a perfect example of how wrong it could go, served on silver plate – it was how they had met for God’s sake. But once again – Sam would lie when saying he didn’t miss some of the adrenalin. He did. A lot, actually.

The reason he had left the field was his soulmate. Was there any better reason to get back in when the need would rise, than another soulmate?

“Do you want to explore this?” Sam broke the uncomfortable silence, lacking the courage to look at her expression. The tension in her shoulders he could almost feel told him enough. He didn’t want to see her rejection. Did he want to see her agreement though?

“Do you?” she hummed back, staring ahead just like him.

“That’s the million dollar question.”

Riley had been… his everything. But could he ignore something like this? Could he ignore the opportunity, a woman who was no doubt fabulous and he was already finding interesting and that apparently was matching his sense of humour? Did he believe in fate? Did he have the right to try again?

Deep down, Sam knew he had already made his mind about it. Now it only depended on her.

“But I keep telling everyone to move on,” he mused out loud, catching her gaze. “Try to live. Some do. Neither of them had the… advantage of having another soulmate if we can call it that.”

Small smile appeared on Natasha’s lips, new twinkle lighting up her eyes and Sam knew he had made the right decision, no matter the outcome.

He didn’t complain when she rose to her feet to clearly leave though – they had enough to deal with today, they needed more time to think of how to approach this.

“Okay. Okay then… You have my number. Call me,” she offered simply, saying goodbye only with a nod and spun on her heels.

“Oh, I will!”

She casted a flirty grin over her shoulder and Sam found himself smiling.

“Hey, you bowl?” he blurted out the first idea that came to his mind and this time she stopped in her tracks, her smile turning almost wolfish. It might have done a thing to his crotch.

“I do, but you can’t run crying when I beat you!” she smirked and gave him a wink, hips swaying as she left him behind.

His laughter sounded like a soundtrack to her catwalk.

Cheeky lady. Sam kinda liked her.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 11

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Thank you for reading!

We’ll be leaving Stevie next time, coming back to our wayward sons and daughter (...that’s a spn reference, if any non-fan is confused). We’re getting closer, y’all!

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nightfallrevel · 4 years

Text

White Day - Bakugo

A/N: Here it is! The first White Day post, sequel to the Valentine post.

Check out my bio for the master list!

Also, I apparently like portraying the more sensitive side of Bakugo. Oop-

Warnings: swearing, none

Bakugo x reader

Word Count: 2,857

You were completely mortified by the way that you had given Bakugo your Valentine’s Day chocolates. You swore that Kaminari was laughing at you every time he saw you. You had no idea how Bakugo had felt about receiving the chocolates, though you figured he probably thought you were an idiot. Whatever the case, you avoided him like the plague, too embarrassed by your actions to face him properly.

This, of course, only pissed Bakugo off. He couldn’t figure out why you would go through the trouble of practically confessing to him only to completely avoid him afterwards. It was frustrating as hell.

He’d put on an air in front of his friends, but he was actually secretly pleased that you’d given him chocolates. You had caught his eye from the day you transferred into their class. Your quirk was incredible, but, even without it, you were even more so. You were gorgeous in his eyes and he found himself interested in getting to know you. Not that he’d ever let on to the fact.

However, he was given an opportunity when you approached him on Valentine’s Day. He hated sweets and was fully prepared to let his friends eat them, but you’d made him special chocolates. How could he not at least try them? They’d been delicious. Spicy with only the slightest hint of sweet. Very spicy. It was obvious that you had been paying attention to him.

Day after day, however, no matter when he tried to approach you, you would flee. He knew you were fleeing, too, because he could see your panic. You had been mid-sentence while talking to Uraraka when you saw him walking up to you and you bolted. The fact that you were so obviously avoiding him only served to anger him further. He wasn’t the type of guy who gave up so easily, though.

Others may have viewed pursuing you as a waste of time, but he wanted you. When Bakugo wanted something, he was in the mindset of not stopping until he got it. However, he wasn’t stupid enough to realize that he wasn’t getting anywhere by merely trying to approach you. He needed a different tactic.

After two weeks of giving you panic attacks, Bakugo backed off. He stopped trying to approach you, giving himself time to find another method. After confirming with Kirishima that White Day was a thing, he started to come up with a plan. He would just have to give you chocolates, too.

He had no idea what your preferences were, but he had watched you enough to know that you at least loved sweets. You also loved caramel, he’d noticed. There was no way he could let you show him up with homemade chocolates, so he got to work on making caramel-filled chocolates for you. He already knew how to cook, so how hard could it be to make some stupid candies?

It was hard. Two days of attempting to make the chocolates and Bakugo was reaching a level of impatience of volcanic proportions. His frustration bled into his studies, his temper much shorter than usual. Occasionally, he would see you watching him as he lost his cool and it somehow evened his temper.

Your eyes reflected guilt as though you might be the cause and he couldn’t handle that. He didn’t want you to think that you were the reason that his fuse was so much shorter, even if you were indirectly the cause. He couldn’t help feeling that you were worth it, though.

Which was stupid of him. He knew that he had no business getting distracted by a girl, not when he had been solely focused on being the number one hero. It was still his focus, but part of that focus had been redirected to you and he had hated it for a long time.

Now, however, he had accepted it. He couldn’t help wanting you and, in this instance, he had found that it was better to embrace it rather than fight it. You had made your feelings known to him and he intended to hold you accountable for it, for making him want you that much more.

White Day finally arrived and he had managed to make the chocolates correctly just in time without burning them. Not one to skip out on small details, Bakugo wrapped up the chocolates in a small, flat box and tied bright orange ribbon around it to keep it closed. He’d never felt more ridiculous holding the small parcel as he stood in the dorm foyer.

His heart suddenly picked up in speed the moment he saw you. Thinking how stupid he really was for getting so worked up over giving you some stupid chocolates, his gaze turned to a glare just as you looked at him. Your face paled and you immediately hurried past him as you gave him a wide berth. Before Bakugo could call out to you, Kaminari and Kirishima caught him.

“Hey, man, what have you got there? A gift?” Kirishima gave his best friend an innocent and unassuming grin as Bakugo grit his teeth.

“Oh, maybe you were gonna confess to a girl? It is White Day, after all.” Kaminari added thoughtfully, his eyes growing wide. “Were you maybe going to give Y/L/N a return gift?” The blonde’s elbow connected with a seething Bakugo’s ribs.

The explosive boy was at his limit. “It’s none of your damn business!” He yelled, wrenching himself away from his friends and stomping from the dorms. Kaminari and Kirishima followed him with barely suppressed snickers of laughter.

Between ignoring his friends’ teasing jabs and being continuously dodged and avoided by you, Bakugo’s patience had worn out. The tension in him finally snapped during one of their breaks and the last thing he remembered was raising the box of chocolates and aiming it in your direction.

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

You felt pathetic. An entire month had gone by and you still couldn’t face Bakugo. The glare he had given you that morning hadn’t exactly instilled much confidence in you, either. He was apparently still mad at you. Of course, you didn’t exactly blame him. You’d shoved chocolates at him and then blatantly avoided him.

You knew you hadn’t been subtle about it, either. After a couple of weeks, Bakugo had seemed to give up on approaching you, and you had a brief moment that you felt like you could breathe, again. However, he’d been back to his old tricks today and you were left in a near constant panic. Why did you keep running away, anyway?

You were a coward when it came to matters of the heart.

Plain and simple. That’s all it could be. You were terrified of what he was going to say to you. He was going to turn you down. Bakugo had no interest in anything except for becoming the number one hero. He didn’t have the time to pursue romance or invest in anything beyond accomplishing his goals. You knew that, but you still didn’t want to hear him say it.

Heaving a sigh, you decided that you would have to stop avoiding him eventually. You were in the same class and would at some point be teamed up together for training exercises. It was better to rip off the bandaid now, than to torture yourself over it.

Just as your class had been given a break, your mind made up, you started to get up to go talk to him only for something to smack you square in the face. You froze, half standing, as you blinked in stunned silence. It only took a second for you to recover, anger flooding you. “What the hell! Somebody seriously just threw something in my face?” You scanned your fellow students in front of you, searching for the guilty party.

“YEAH, I DID IT BECAUSE YOU KEEP AVOIDING ME, DUMB ASS! WHAT OTHER OPTIONS ARE YOU GIVING ME!” The sound of Bakugo’s voice had your head snapping in his direction. Even though his point was completely valid and he wasn’t exactly wrong, you were still angry.

“And you couldn’t think of a different method of getting my attention!” You yelled back at him. “I was just about to come talk to you, just so you know!” The tension in the air was palpable and the other students were slowly edging away to avoid being in the crossfire.

“WHAT ELSE SHOULD I HAVE DONE, THEN? HAH? IT’S NOT LIKE YOU GAVE ME MUCH OF A CHOICE WHEN I CAN’T EVEN APPROACH YOU!” Bakugo was only getting louder, no longer in his seat as he stepped towards you.

You brought yourself to your full height, though he still towered over you. “And who would want to let you approach them when you’re always looking so intimidating, huh? I was scared!” Your eyes narrowed on him, but all fight had seemed to leave him. You blinked as he seemed to completely deflate, though his glare didn’t lose an ounce of intensity.

“Whatever.” Turning from you, he left the classroom as the rest of the class stared after him in shocked silence. Your brows knit in confusion. It wasn’t like him to give up in a fight like that. What had silenced him? Looking down on your desk, you saw what he’d thrown at you.

You picked up the small box and untied the ribbon, your eyes widening as you saw the homemade chocolates inside. Had he… been trying to tell you that he liked you, too? You picked up one of the small chocolates and ate one, your eyes widening in surprise to find they were filled with caramel. How had he known you loved caramel…? You slowly sank back down in your seat as you thought about the way Bakugo had left.

Something had upset him. It was obvious that something you’d said had affected him somehow. You spent the rest of the break nibbling on the chocolates. They were so good and he’d clearly made them himself. The fact that he’d even taken the time to make you chocolates was enough to tell you just what he thought of you.

Bakugo returned from break just before class started back up, not giving you another chance to speak with him. You couldn’t concentrate on the lesson, Present Mic’s voice going in one ear and out the other. Your eyes were glued to the back of Bakugo’s head, replaying your fight with him over and over in your mind.

It wasn’t until the bell rang that you realized what you’d said that had made him upset. Before you could gather your things and go up to him, however, Bakugo was already gone. Ignoring Uraraka’s request to walk back together, you grabbed your things and what was left of the chocolates and bolted from the classroom.

You ran all the way back to the dorms, your feet carrying you with near blinding speed. As you ran, you kept an eye out for Bakugo, but you didn’t see him. You couldn’t remember a time you had ever run so fast, barely slowing as you barreled through the front door. The commons was empty and you raced up to your room to deposit your things and change your clothes.

Still carrying the box of chocolates, you headed back to the commons and hoped to intercept Bakugo as he returned to the dorms. The only ones you saw, however, were Kirishima and Kaminari along with a few of your other classmates. Kirishima spotted you and grinned almost apologetically. “Bakugo headed up to his room right away.” You smiled back at him and gave him a nod of appreciation.

Turning on your heel, you dashed up the stairs to Bakugo’s room. Once you stood in front of his door, you took a moment to catch your breath as you panted heavily. Even though you were still breathing rather heavily, you knocked insistently on his door. A voice yelled from inside to piss off, but you only pounded harder against the wood.

The door was suddenly yanked open and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of Bakugo standing shirtless before you. You blinked rapidly, suddenly unable to form a coherent thought as Bakugo narrowed his eyes on you. An annoyed ‘tch’ left him when you didn’t say anything and he started to close the door in your face.

In a panic, you forced your foot through the door to keep it from closing. “No, wait! Please.” You winced as your foot was squished, yelping slightly. Bakugo immediately opened the door again, giving you a bewildered expression.

His bewilderment immediately gave way to more annoyance. “Are you a fucking idiot? What the hell are you trying to do?” His ruby eyes bore into you, making you feel a lot smaller as you withdrew your foot from the door jamb. You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you held up the box of chocolates he’d given you.

Bakugo raised a single brow at you expectantly when you didn’t speak right away. A sigh passed his lips and you almost flinched, which he didn’t miss. His expression contorted into a scowl. “Let me guess. You’re scared, right? Well, you at least had the courage to knock on my door.”

He reached out to take the chocolates from you, but you hurriedly clutched them to your chest and shook your head vehemently. “I’m not!” You pressed your lips together, meeting his stare with determination as you finally found your voice. Your gaze wavered slightly as heat rose to your face. “Well, I am, but… it’s not at all what you think.” Your determination returned as you inhaled deeply. “I am scared, but I’m not scared of you. I’m… really just… nervous.”

Bakugo’s eyes widened at you as you spoke, his mouth opening to speak. You interrupted him as you kept going, spilling everything you had been feeling. “I was afraid of what you were going to say. That you couldn’t accept my feelings because you didn’t feel the same way. I was afraid that you were going to tell me that you didn’t have time for me or a relationship that didn’t involve hero work. I was too scared to hear you say those things and that’s why I avoided you. As much as I’ve accepted it as truth, I still didn’t want to feel the pain of rejection. So, yeah. I’m a coward.” You had dropped your gaze by this point, too ashamed to meet his eye, by now.

There was a long silence between you as Bakugo seemed to process everything that you’d said. Your heart sped up even faster than it had been before, nearly to the point that you thought it should be impossible for it to beat so fast. You just wished he would say something, already, so that you didn’t have to listen to the pounding of your pulse.

“Well, you weren’t wrong.” A heavy sigh left him. “Except about one thing.” Your gaze snapped back up to his, wide-eyed with curiosity. His expression was unexpectedly soft, making your breath catch in your lungs. “I think you already know what I’m talking about, though, don’t you?” He pointed at the box you still clutched against your chest.

A small smile lifted your lips as you nodded. “Yeah. You wouldn’t have gone through the trouble, otherwise. I realized that as soon as I opened them.” Your smile faded, though, as there were still things that were unclear between you. He liked you back, but that didn’t mean he wanted a relationship.

A large, warm hand grasped your arm and pulled you closer to him until you were nearly pressed against his bare chest. You felt the heat returning to your face as you stared up at him, his face coming closer to yours. “I want you and that’s just something both of us are going to have to deal with.” Before you could ask what he meant, his mouth was on yours as he kissed you.

Bakugo’s kiss was mostly teeth and you could tell he’d never kissed anyone before, but you didn’t care. As far as you were concerned, it was the perfect kiss. When he finally pulled away, he couldn’t meet your gaze as a dusting of pink colored his cheeks. You couldn’t keep the stupid grin off your face as you stared at him.

Finally, his burning gaze met yours and you could see sparks flashing in his red eyes. “You want to come in?” A heat flashed through you and you felt your cheeks warm as you nodded shyly. He stepped aside, opening his door far enough for you to step in. As you passed the threshold, you knew that you had nothing to worry about.

Your confessions to each other hadn’t been perfect, and there was still a lot that the two of you had to work through, but you had faith that everything was going to work out just fine. You had shed your fear and looked forward to the future with nothing but excited anticipation.

#my work #White Day #Valentines Day event #Bakugo Katsuki #Bakugo x reader #bnha #mha #My Hero Academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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