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5-seconds-of-bucky · 4 years ago

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The Dock

A/N: So I’m writing for Bucky now...☺️ I wrote this for @wkemeup’s 9k writing challenge but also not? I’ve had the idea in my head for a while now so I thought I’d participate! I included the prompt, but it’s not so much the plot of the story so much as just part of it. Anyways, happy reading!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Avenger!Reader

Summary: After a long time of mutual pinning, a night on the dock helps you and Bucky finally confess your feelings for each other

Word count: 4.5k+

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets catcalled, violence, excessive usage of the middle finger

Prompt: Character A is the target of harassment on the street. Shamed, they pretend it doesn’t bother them. Until it happens in the presence of Character B, who reigns hell on whoever dared to upset [A]

---

You awoke to your head bobbing on the car window and the sound of crunching gravel as the car pulled into the driveway of Tony’s lake house. Your neck ached from leaning over in a strange position for so long and you groaned as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

Bucky grinned from the seat beside you. “Sleep well?” he asked, nudging your calf with his foot. “You got a little drool there.”

“Oh, shut up.” You stuck your middle finger up in his direction. “I slept very well, actually. Thank you for asking.”

“I can tell.” You lifted up your other hand to flip him off again, causing him to chuckle. “Ooh, two middle fingers. I’m really scared now.”

The two of you were too busy teasing each other to realize that the car had stopped and Sam and Natasha had already gotten out of it. A knock on the window your head was resting on made you turn around, seeing Sam’s face a little too close for your liking.

“Are you two gonna stop flirting and help us with the bags or should I let you bake in the car?” he asked. With a roll of your eyes, you opened the car door, making sure to bump Sam in the process. Bucky felt heat rise to his cheeks, glad that you weren’t looking over towards him to see it. “I’m taking this silence to mean that you do want to roast in the car.”

“Sam, would you shut up?” you laughed, casually sticking a middle finger up behind your back as you walked past him to the trunk.

“You and these middle fingers today,” Sam muttered.

“I have another one if you’d like to see it.” You grabbed your backpack and slung it over your shoulder.

“I’m good.” He picked up his bag from the ground before heading towards the house, which the rest of the team was already situated in. You went to grab your suitcase but Bucky swatted your hand away, grabbing it himself and closing the trunk.

“I got it,” he insisted like the true gentleman he was. As much as you wanted to argue, you knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“Why thank you, good sir.” You bumped his shoulder with your own and walked ahead, jumping up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.

“All in a day’s work.” He lifted the suitcases up the steps with ease and slipped past you to get inside. The feeling of air conditioning inside the cabin was a major relief from the heat outside.

“Glad to see the lovebirds finally showed up,” Tony said once you and Bucky were completely inside the cabin.

“You better watch out, Tony. Y/N’s got middle fingers for days over there.”

“Shut up, Sam!”

A chorus of laughter rang out throughout the cabin and you made sure to shoulder check Sam as you passed him to get to the kitchen.

---

“Okay, I have the perfect plan to get you and Barnes together this weekend,’ Natasha said as she pulled out clothes from her suitcase. You two were sharing a room for the week and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. You loved Nat to death but lately she had been trying especially hard to get you to make a move on Bucky and it was only slightly annoying.

“The perfect plan, huh? Even more perfect than the last perfect plan?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I forgot to account for the fact you both have a tendency to wake up at ungodly hours in the morning last time. I promise it’s foolproof this time.”

“Well then, let’s hear it.”

“Alright. Before you got in here--you know, when you were busy flirting with Bucky.” She winked, to which you rolled your eyes. “Well Tony was talking about taking the boat out and going tubing. So what we have to do is get you and Bucky to go on the tube together. Tony’s a crazy driver so you’ll get thrown off pretty fast. Bucky will get so worried he’ll just have to confess his love to you.”

“Two issues.” You pointed a finger at her. “One, how am I going to get Bucky on a tube? It will be hard enough to get him on the boat alone. Two,” You held up another finger. “why would he confess his love at that very moment? That’s insane.”

“One,” She grabbed one of your fingers and put it down. “he’s whipped for you. I guarantee that if you ask, he’ll do it without a second thought.”

“Sure he would,” you scoffed.

“Uh, I know he would.” She gave you a knowing smirk. “Two, he gets worried about you all the time and I’ve seen him get close to confessing every time. We just gotta push him over the edge.”

“Bucky getting protective is just him being my best friend. He used to be just like that with Steve too.” You put your arm down, shuffling over to your own bed to take some clothes out of the blue suitcase on top of it.

“No, it’s definitely more than best friend love.” She moved to sit down on your bed.

“Either way, it usually ends in some kind of fight and I’d like to avoid that this weekend.”

“Who’s he gonna fight? Tony?”

“I mean, you never know.” It wouldn’t be the first time.

“I can’t wait to get back and shove these things in my mouth,” you said with a grin as you exited the bakery behind Bucky, a bag of donut holes in your hand.

“Gee, really? It’s almost like you haven’t been talking about it for the past three days,” Bucky chuckled, reaching for the bag.

You pulled the bag away from him with a fake scoff. “Oh, I don’t think so, mister. We have to wait until we get back. The anticipation makes them taste better.”

“You’re insufferable.” He elbowed your side and you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Damn, you looking fine over there, mama!”

You took in a sharp breath. It wasn’t all that uncommon for you to get cat called while out and about. You were in New York City, for fucks sake. That didn’t mean that it made you feel any less uncomfortable, though.

As much as it stung, you didn’t want to start anything. You stared straight ahead and prayed Bucky didn’t hear it. Much to your dismay though, he stiffened next to you, subtly glancing back to see who was talking to you in such a vulgar way. Damn that supersoldier enhanced hearing.

“Hey, sweetcheeks!” You felt a tug on your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”

You huffed, shaking the harsh grip off your shoulder and picking up the pace. You expected Bucky to keep going with you so you continued walking, frowning when you noticed he wasn’t beside you anymore.

“Listen here, you little shit,” Bucky seethed, stepping in front of the man and blocking you from his sight. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Leave her, and every other woman you ever lay your beady little eyes on, alone.”

“And what’re you gonna do about it?” the man smirked. “She need her boyfriend to defend her?”

Bucky stepped closer, crossing his arms and giving the famous ‘Bucky stare.’ “Doesn’t matter who I am. You better back the fuck away before I make you life hell.”

A few onlookers started lingering around, some with their phones out and recording the scene, almost as if they wanted to see a fight break out between the two men. ‘Winter Soldier vs Everyday Pedestrian was sure to be trending somewhere soon enough.

“Buck,” you said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and ignoring the obvious stares you were receiving, most notably from the man whose face Bucky was ready to punch in. “Let’s just go.”

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to decide if he should let it go or punch the living daylights out of the guy. He let out a soft sigh after a moment, relaxing into your grip. With one last look at the man, he turned around and placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward.

“Aye, it’s all good. I’m sure I’ll see that tight ass ‘round here soon anyways.”

That was the last straw for Bucky. He growled with a ferocity you hadn’t heard before and whipped around, not even hesitating to use his metal arm to punch the guy. The crowd gasped, more bringing their phones out to capture what was sure to be a great fight.

“What the fuck was-” Bucky grabbed him by his collar, pushing him up again the exposed brick of a restaurant.

“There’s plenty more where that came from and, judging by the way you’re looking at me, I bet you don’t want to see it. So do the rest of humanity a favor and fuck off.” He let go of the man’s collar and stepped back, unclenching his fist and pivoting back towards you. “Come on, doll.”

You shook the shock off your face and fell into step next to him. His arm warped around you, pulling you into his side. You could feel the fumes radiating off of him as you walked back to the tower, choosing to stay quiet as you let him cool off.

You paused once you reached the entrance of the tower. Tony probably already knew about what happened and he sure wasn’t going to be happy about it. Bucky’s media presence hadn’t necessarily been bad lately, but it wasn’t perfect either. The public was still wary. To many, the Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier were still the same person.

Things definitely felt off when you entered. You got the side eye from a few people in the elevator and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fight fiasco or because of how tightly Bucky was holding you to his side.

“Want to eat these in my room?” you asked once you stepped off the elevator.

“Sounds good.” His voice was distant as his eyes searched the room.

“Mr. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice startled the two of you, making you drop the donut holes. “Mr. Stark has requested to see you in his office.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll be there in a few.” He picked up the bag and handed it back to you. “Apparently, I have business to attend to.”

You simply nodded. He went in the other direction towards Tony’s office pausing at the door before knocking. You sent him a thumbs up before he went in, but he didn’t look back at you to see it. You retreated to your room, placing your wallet on the dresser and popping a donut hole in your mouth.

“Maybe I should get a plate,” you wondered aloud. You needed to grab your water bottle anyways. Might as well make the trip. You put the donut holes on your bed and started making your way to the kitchen.

“She’s perfectly capable of handling herself, you know.” You couldn’t help but stop as you heard Tony’s voice through the door of his office.

“But she shouldn’t have to.” Bucky sounded stressed and you could only imagine the hell Tony was reigning on him. “Her ignoring him wasn’t going to do anything. I didn’t want to beat the guy up but he was harassing her and it needed to stop.”

“And this doesn’t have anything to do with any particular feelings you have for her, right?” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice.

“Tony-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Barnes. You know how the public sees you. I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”

“That guy harassed her! I couldn’t stand there and just let it happen!” God, you wanted to give him a hug so bad right now.

“I don’t care what it was, Bucky. Having heart eyes for Y/N doesn’t mean-” You took that as your cue to leave. You grabbed a plate and two water bottles from the kitchen and made sure to take the long way around to your room in order to avoid whatever was going on between the two of them.

Bucky showed up a half hour later, plopping down next to you on your bed with a little more space than usual.

“I’m just saying, it could work.” Nat got off your bed. “The cookout’s starting soon. Put on something cute.” She was gone before you could respond, leaving you to look for an outfit that would, as Nat liked to say, “knock Bucky off his ass.”

---

“Ooh, Y/N, looking to impress someone?” Sam called out as you walked out into the backyard. It seemed that most everyone else was already out there, helping make dinner or sitting on the dock.

You stuck up your middle finger in reply, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Oh stop it, Sam,” Wanda said as she walked towards you. “You look amazing!”

“Aww, thank you! You look absolutely stunning yourself.” Wanda reached out her hand and nodded towards the dock, urging you to come with her and join the group. You grabbed it and let her drag you down there, giving a small wave to Bucky as you passed him near the grill.

Bucky waved back, a grin spanning the expanse of his face at the sight of you. He kept his gaze on you as you made your way down to the dock, not even realizing just how intently he was staring.

“Someone’s staring at you,” Nat said with a suggestive smirk once you were close enough to the dock.

“He has a starting problem. We all know that,” you argued, sitting down across from her.

“I don’t know. He looks like he wants nothing more than to-”

“Nat, I love you, but please shut up.” She raised her hands up in the defense and Wanda giggled.

“I’m just saying.”

“You okay over there?” Steve shifted his focus from the burgers to his 100-year-old friend for a second, of course noticing the sudden silence that ensued the second you entered Bucky’s line of vision. “Buck?”

“Huh?” Bucky’s head turned sharply in Steve’s direction.

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” A shy smile.

“Are you going to ask her out soon?” He flipped some burgers over and pulled the lid of the grill closed.

“I’m getting to it, yeesh,” Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what you’ve been saying since forever.”

“And it’s what I’ll keep saying every time you pester me about it.”

“Well if you don’t make a move soon, maybe I’ll swoop in-”

“Nope! You will not do that.” He nudged Steve in the shoulder and started making his way to the dock. “You absolutely will not do that.”

Soon. He was going to do it soon.

---

“Who’s next?” Tony called from the driver’s seat of the boat. You handed Sam a towel as he got back on the boat, drenched from flying off the tube a second earlier.

“You should go with Bucky.” Wanda nudged you with a teasing smile. You glanced over to the man in question, seeing him sitting next to Steve. He wore a t-shirt and swim shorts with a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and he looked damn good.

“I’ll go,” you announced, standing up and taking your t-shirt off, leaving you in your favorite swimsuit and a pair of shorts. You handed Wanda the shirt so it wouldn’t get wet. “Anyone wanna go with me?” Wanda jabbed your leg and gave you a playful glare.

“Go with her,” Steve muttered to Bucky, bumping his shoulder with his own.

“I don’t know, Steve.” Bucky sighed. Steve rolled his eyes, knowing that his best friend just needed a little push.

“Bucky will go with you,” Steve said a bit louder than necessary. Bucky groaned quietly at his friend, taking off his sunglasses and putting them in his seat. He made sure to give Steve a certain look before making his way towards the back of the boat. You both grabbed your life jackets and started securing them as Sam moved out of your way.

“Cyborg!” Tony called out. “You going to take your shirt off?”

You felt Nat snort as she helped you off of the back of the boat and onto the tube. “Yeah, Bucky. Why don’t you show off your muscles for your girlfriend here.”

“Nat!” You paused for a second to look back at her with fake betrayal.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He snapped the last clasp on the life vest and checked to make sure you were all the way on the tube so he could start getting on.

“Oh, come on, Buckaroo!” Sam laughed. He started a chant of “take it off” with the rest of the team (even you, though you’d never admit it).

“Fine,” Bucky grumbled, hastily taking off the life jacket and shirt. He threw the shirt to the middle of the boat and resecured the lifevest, ignoring Nat’s hand offered out for help as he climbed on the tube. His famous Bucky glare melted off his face the second he saw your bright smile and he found himself smiling too.

“I don’t know how well this is going to go but it’s gonna be fun,” you said as he grabbed onto the handles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Tony’s a crazy driver and we’ve never been able to get you on a tube before. I’m betting you’ll fly off in the first three minutes.”

The tube jerked forwards before Bucky could say anything else. You started picking up speed quickly and soon enough, Bucky was holding the handles with a death grip. You ended up being right and about two minutes in, you hit a wave that threw him off.

“Are you okay?” you asked in between laughs as he struggled to get back on.

“Yeah,” he muttered, a hint of annoyance on his face. You threw a thumbs up to Tony, who nodded and started moving again. “It’s like he’s trying to throw us off.”

“Well half the fun is falling off.”

“You people have strange ways of entertaining yourselves on Sunday afternoons.”

“What would you suggest we rather do then?”

“I don’t know. Something that doesn’t involve giving myself whiplash for ‘fun.’”

“You’re such an old man.” You let go of a handle to smack his arm. Of course, at that exact moment, you hit a wave strong enough to throw both of you off. You shrieked as you flew off of the tube before smacking the water. Whether it was the lack of paying attention or a scheme by Nat and Steve, the boat kept going, leaving the two of you floating in the middle of the lake by yourselves.

“Where are they going?” You furrowed your eyebrows, though a grin was still evident on your face.

“Are you okay?” Bucky ignored your question as he swam over to you, worriedly grabbing your face and checking for injury.

“Buck, I’m fine,” you said, though you didn’t do anything to stop his injury check. He sighed and looked towards the direction the boat went. It seemed that they were already long gone.

“That shriek had me worried there for a second, doll.” His hands dropped from your cheeks and you found yourself missing his touch.

“No need to worry. I’m all good over here.”

“Good.”

A lull of conversation fell over the two of you as you treaded water. You slowly moved closer, noses almost touching when Bucky glanced down to your lips. You nodded. I want this too.

His lips brushed over yours: eyes closed and hands dipping under the water to grab your waist.

“There you are!” you heard Sam’s voice shout. You quickly separated, looking awkwardly down at the water as you tried to focus on anything but each other. “Thought we lost you. Didn’t interrupt anything, I hope.” He smirked at Bucky.

This time, it was Bucky flipping him off.

---

You tried to be quiet as possible as you tiptoed through the hallway, hoping that you wouldn’t step on any particularly squeaky floorboards in the dark. You started opening drawers once you made it to the kitchen in search of a flashlight. Did Tony even own basic technology like that?

“What are you doing, doll?” A soft voice broke you from your thoughts. A pair of blue eyes stared back at you.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No.” He shook his head.

“Oh, okay.”

“You look like a deer in headlights.” His lips turned into an almost smile. “Are you running away?”

“Just down to the dock. Need to clear my mind.” Nightmares.

He nodded. An unspoken understanding. Maybe that’s what made you such great friends.

“Mind if I join?”

“Sure.” You finally found a flashlight and grabbed it, sliding the drawer shut with your hip. You slid the glass door to the porch open, leaving Bucky to follow you out.

Warmth surrounded you as you made your way to the dock. The humidity was atrocious during the day but at night, it was somehow comforting. The buzzing of bugs in the surrounding woods brought you a level of peace that the hum of air conditioning inside couldn’t. You sat down at the edge of the dock, dipping your toes in the cool lakewater.

Bucky sat down next to you a moment later. Your silence contrasted with that of the busy summer night, but it was comfortable. Nothing needed to be said; the presence of each other was more than enough.

“You know,” he started, his gaze not leaving the shoreline across the way. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.”

You glanced over to him for a second, taking subtle notice of his features when his guard was down. The dark circles under his eyes mirrored yours, yet he looked relaxed.

“And what if I don’t?” The slight stain of your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His head turned to meet you eyes. The soft upturn of your lips and content sigh told him that was the right answer. Your hand inched closer to his, your pinkies brushing on the splintered wood of the dock.

“How do you always know what to say?” Your gaze followed his across the lake, catching sight of a few deer grazing on the grass at the edge of the woods.

“I guess being alive for 106 years has to give me some kind of wisdom, right?”

You snorted, breaking the quiet atmosphere the two of you had created for the first time that night.

“I dunno. You’re still kind of a dumbass.”

“And you're still kind of a smartass, so where does that get us?” A grin spread across his face and there was no sight you loved more.

“God, I love seeing you smile.” A blush coated his cheeks at your words and he prayed you couldn’t see it in the dark of the night.

Your hands inched closer for a second time that night. A metal hand reached across to grab yours, his other arm going around your waist to pull you closer. Your head rested beneath his chin as he rubbed circles into your side.

“Thank you,” you mumbled after a few minutes of quiet.

“For what?”

“Your face.”

His chest rumbled with laughter and he squeezed you just the slightest bit tighter. “Glad I could be of service, doll.”

“Seriously, though . . .Thank you for being around. I know we joke around a lot but it really means a lot that you’re willing to sit out here with me.”

“I mean, technically, it was more of me inviting myself than putting myself through the torture of sitting here with you.”

You pulled away from his chest, shifting yourself so you could look at him better. “For real, Buck.” You put your hands on his cheeks. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Just do it, Bucky. Now’s the time.

He let out a breath as he smiled, looking anywhere but in your eyes as he contemplated what to do next. The hand not holding your waist came to brush back a piece of hair that had fallen in your face.

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked shocked for a moment, leaving him to wonder if he’d been reading it wrong all along. “Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I thought that-”

You cut him off, pressing your lips against his. Your hands moved to wrap around his neck as his grabbed your hips. It was everything you needed and yet it still wasn’t enough.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this to happen,” you breathed once you pulled away. This grin on your face mirrored his as he pressed his forehead against yours, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“Actually . . . I think I might.” He dipped back in for another kiss, this one a bit softer than the first, but just as passionate.

A sudden breeze swept through the night and you shivered. It would have been a relief from the heat if you weren’t already having chills due to the man in front of you.

“Let’s get you back inside, doll.”

You were reluctant to let go of him. The moment you’d been waiting for for so long finally happened and you felt yourself scared to be too far from him.

You shifted your weight back so he could get up, not realizing just how close to the edge of the dock you were. Bucky let go of your hips before you could warm him and you felt yourself falling backwards in slow motion. A small yelp left your lips and Bucky’s attempt to save you was futile as your hands slipped through his.

“Cold, cold, cold!” you chanted once you surfaced, barely hearing yourself over how loud Bucky was laughing.

“Are you okay?” he choked out in between his laughter, kneeling at the edge of the dock and holding his hand out towards you. You grabbed his hand with a glare.

“I have half a mind to yank you in here with me.” His eyes widened at your words.

“Don’t you dare!” You tugged his arm lightly, just enough to get his face closer to yours.

“I guess I can spare you. Just this one time.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling yourself up onto the dock. “But I think I deserve a hug for my troubles.”

“Can’t deny my girlfriend that, now can I?” He pulled you into a hug, cradling your head on his chest and pressing his lips to your hairline.

“I’m your girlfriend, huh? Damn, we’re moving fast! Do you have the wedding planned already?”

“Oh please. I think we all know we’ve basically been dating for a while now.”

“Perhaps.” The two of you stayed in that position for a moment longer before another breeze came. “Should we go in now that we’re both wet and cold?”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea, doll.” Keeping an arm around each other, you slowly made your way back to the cabin, already making plans for a proper date once the trip was over.

---

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fragilefangirl · 3 years ago

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Nomad (lost and found, what’s new?)

Read on AO3

When Xialing first ran away, she brought nothing but the things she wore on herself and the rolled up Dance-Dance Revolution carpet, slung on her shoulders.

It was a daring escape, considering their hilltop fortress of a home; there were many guards, many traps, many weapons ready to impale anybody going in or out unauthorized. Xialing spent months just mapping the inner-maze of the house, and some more learning the sewer system, since that was a sure path down below, somewhere with civilizations.

Gege definitely had it easier, she thought to herself as her nose wrinkled due to the smell, knees deep in murky and questionable water, at least he got a free ride out of this godforsaken mountain.

She knew she had to be quick, she had to be agile, she had to be unseen; Baba had eyes everywhere, had ears everywhere, had hands everywhere. Xialing didn’t want anything of hers reaching him.

(She wanted to, once upon a time; yearned for it, when she thought that his eyes could still be filled with brightness and his hands were still warm and his ears would still perk up at her voice. She wanted to be seen, to be heard, to be ruffled by the head the way it used to.

But 6 years passed, and it took Xialing that much time to realize that a dying man could only do so much, so little.)

When she finally reached somewhere that was not a forest, asking for a ride to the city from a passing truck, the driver asked what she could give him, eyeing the carpet on her shoulder. “Is that the 2007 DDR mat for PlayStation 2?” He asked. “I liked to play it in my cousin’s house back then—always wanted to get it.”

Xialing tightened her grip to the binding rope, nodding stiffly. “Yes.” She said, curtly. Then when they arrived at the nearest metropolitan, she unlatched her bracelet—pure gold and adorned with rare, beautiful green jade, one of the things Baba gave her on the birthdays after, in lieu of his affection—and gave it to him. “Sell this to a jeweller.” She said, giving the wide-eyed man the accessory. “The money from it should be enough for you to start a trucking company of your own.” She paused, “and even buy your own mat.”

The driver stuttered, but Xialing had already stepped down from the platform, running into the early dawn, blending herself among the crowd, finally, finally free.

***

“Meimei,”

Xialing looked up to see Gege, face obscured by the shadowy silhouette of the living room as he approached her. “What are you doing?” Asked her brother, tone careful.

She paused from unrolling the DDR mat and setting the TV, looking at Gege like he just asked something stupid. “It’s Saturday, Gege.” She said, matter-of-factly, “Family game night, remember?”

Because they all seemed to forget; Xialing had done this for weeks now, recharging the karaoke mic, setting the dance game, picking a movie. She’d waited on the sofa until she fell asleep and Saturday turned to Sunday and she was moved to her room instead of the sofa, but nobody showed up.

Nobody ever seemed to show up, these days—Gege was always training at some corner of the house since the ungodly hours of the morning until the ungodly hours of the night, and Baba…

…well, Xialing didn’t really know where Baba was.

Gege moved forward, and Xialing could see his face now; bruised, with blue and purple blooming here and there. There was a black circle over his eyes, and his lip was split—he looked like he was one of those fighters in the combat games he used to play in their PlayStation so much, the one he didn’t let her borrow.

She gasped, rising from her seat on the floor and reaching out to him, trying to examine him,

(the way mama used to—)

Xialing blinked, throat suddenly feeling suspiciously dry as her eyes grew suspiciously wet.

“Lingling,” Said Gege as he leaned over to her touch, eyes drooping somberly as he looked at her. “I don’t think we’re going to have family game nights tonight.”

Narrowing her eyes, Xialing frowned. “But it’s cus-to-ma-ry.” She said, struggling to say the last word. “Mama said that means we have to play it every weekend, unless we’re doing something even more fun!”

Gege gave her a pained smile, and tucked her under his right side, wincing a little as he did so. His eyes blinked a bit when Xialing mentioned the word ‘mama’, and his gaze drifted to the corner of the room, where there was a newly-built shrine with lightened incense and fresh tangerines. “A-Ling.” He said instead, tone weary and sad and did her older brother aged more than the years that passed through him? “Let’s just sleep, okay?” He looked down on her, offering her a tired smile. “It’s been a long day.”

For him, Xialing couldn’t help but to think, intrusive thoughts rebutting so quickly she was surprised herself. On her end, days blur to weeks on end, making her feel smaller every single time she wakes up unseen, unheard, unspoken.

“…okay.” She said, after mulling about it in a long silence. “Gege sleeps with me?”

This time, Gege’s smile was a little bit more genuine. “Sure, Meimei.” He said, ruffling her head. “You sleep on my right side, okay? My left side… hurts.” He winced just mentioning it, free hand tracing his torso.

Nodding, Xialing snuggled closer as they walked away from the living room, Gege’s longer hands barely able to reach the lightswitch to turn it off. Xialing herself had to use a chair just to get it every time. He paused as they were finally out in the hallway, turning to slowly close the sliding door.

“Gege.”

“Hm?”

“When…” Xialing hesitated. “When do you think we’ll play at family game night again?”

Her older brother paused, hands still holding the door handles. “…maybe not for a while.” He said, finally, back still facing her.

“Oh.” Xialing’s hopeful face fell. “Okay.”

Gege led her off, away from the living room, but he didn’t shut the sliding door completely, and from the gap Xialing could see mama’s shrine, lightened by the moonlight from the window.

She swore mama’s gaze looked so sad.

(The day after, Baba locked the Living Room.

A week later, they moved into the mountains.)

***

“Aiya, these beggars!”

Xialing arrived at Macau after three days of truck hopping and self-smuggling herself into unbelievable vehicles. It helped that she was on the smaller side and had nothing with her—but it also meant that she arrived with no destination and no place to live.

She arrived at a packed apartment complex in Iau Hon, paying the receptionist with some of the money she acquired from selling another bracelet of hers earlier in the Mainland, only to be told that there were no longer rooms for the night and she had to queue on the waiting list just to get a piss-poor excuse of a housing.

“Give my money back, then!” She protested, face red with anger.

The receptionist counted the bills, unblinking. “Sorry, no refund.”

She growled, “wáng bā dàn.”

The receptionist paused, glaring at Xialing. She knew she could take him out on a fight right then and there if he tested her further. “Careful with your words, now, girl—a child your age shouldn’t be cussing to their kind elders.”

“Fucker,” she muttered under her breath in English as she walked away, out of the complex. It was the last of her cash, too, after a series of expenses involving buying food, paying the smuggler who helped her through immigration, and compensating the truck drivers she rode with openly upfront and hidden on the back. She had to find another pawnshop to trade her remaining jewels if she wanted to acquire more money to survive. But it was nearing midnight, and all of the shops were closed.

So on her first night in, she lumped herself out with people on the back alleys, away from the main streets. There were homeless people there, huddled up together in worn carpets and makeshift tent. Macau was cold at night, and Xialing’s clothes were worn, too thin to block out the wind.

That night, she rolled out the DDR mat and slept on it; curled up like a cat because she was growing taller than the mat’s length, staving away the cold. She put herself at the back corner, near the trash can, so she wouldn’t be seen.

(Because she could not be seen—Xialing told herself that she needed to blend in, to disappear into the crowd, because Baba must be sending men out there, snooping, searching; he must be looking for her, the only child he had left, the last child he let slip through his fingers.

Baba must be looking for her.

Right?)

The tacky design of the mat was her only company, and she fell asleep tracing the arrows—left, left, right, up, down, left again—while humming on a long-forgotten song. She fell asleep trying to remember a warmer night and a warmer night. She fell asleep yearning to wake up to warm laughter.

“Mama, Gege,” she muttered, barely conscious, “Baba.”

The cold wind blew her hair, gentle and mournful.

***

“Mama.” Xialing said, fifteen and sitting at the shrine Baba had built in their new home, head leaning onto the altar. “I hate you so much.”

The smell of jasmine incense surrounded the room, and Xialing buried herself further into her own arms, warm in all the way except what mattered. She knew silence would greet her, and yet still she paused, hoping for some of the magic mama used to tell her back then would come back, would make their family whole again.

“I hate Gege too for leaving.” She said, one eye peeking into the picture of her mother, smiling behind the glass, forever immortalized on paper. “And I hate Baba for—“

She paused, unsure on what word should she use to describe that living husk of a man, more than eager to track down the lowly goons of his enemies but barely willing to look her in the eye during dinner. She shook her head, letting the silence complete the sentence.

“But I hate you for dying the most.” She whispered, a quiet confession. “I hate you because now Gege’s gone, and Baba’s never around, and I feel like—“ she choked up, clutching her chest as she gulped. “I feel like one of these days I’m gonna disappear too, with the way nobody here acknowledges my existence.”

The smoke from the incense danced, and Xialing sobbed, not for the first time and not for the last, a desperate attempt to be acknowledged by someone, by anyone—even the dead.

“Why didn’t you just hide in the room with us?” She asked, voice thick. “Why did you have to fucking fight those goons like a goddamn hero? Why didn’t you—I don’t know—wait for Baba to come home?”

Again, silence greeted her, and Xialing sighed out of frustration. “If you were still here, I’d still go to my old school and actually have friends and—and family game night would still exist.” She chuckled, darkly. “Gege wouldn’t leave me, and,” She said, “Baba would still look at me.”

The way he used to, when they were a heap of exhausted laughter after a particularly hard song to dance at. The way he used to, when Xialing whined because he kept repeating old opera songs none of them knew for the karaoke. The way he used to, when Saturday dinner was served and she and Gege fought over the last piece of guotie.

“My tutors said I should dream big,” She lamented to herself, “But how can I do that when I feel far smaller now than when I was four?”

The silence was suffocating her now, but it was better here than anywhere else in the house.

“Tell me what to do, mama.” She said, voice faltering and tired. “Please tell me what to do.”

The smoke from the incense rose up, up, up, carried by the wind into the windows, drifting away into the night, freed from the five walls surrounding the shrine.

***

Jiang Er-Gege—“Just Jon-Jon, please. Or Mister Manager,” he insisted for the umpteenth time, unrelenting in this clearly losing battle, “and am I not older than your actual brother?” But Xialing is nothing if not stubborn—whistled at her new apartment.

“Sweet!” He said, grinning, hair bobbing around as he turned at Xialing’s direction, who was still unwrapping her hand from the bindings, wincing a bit every once in a while due to the aftermath sting from tonight’s fights. “You got yourself a pretty nice crib, A-Ling!”

“Thanks.” She said, giving him a small smile as she discarded the wrappings to the waste bin and took off her shoes, finally coming in. “Not that bad, isn’t it?”

“For a seventeen-year-old street fighter? Psh. Not bad at all.” Er-Gege waved a hand, his hair—currently blue now, which reminded Xialing of the Sonic the Hedgehog poster hanging at her Gege’s old bedroom door, well, before—flowing and flailing with each of his enthusiastic movements. “Did it come fully furnished?”

“Yes.” She said, throwing herself to the sofa, closing her eyes. Dawn was breaking, and most people would rise from their beds, starting their day—but Xialing wasn’t most people, and all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and sleep. She was sure that if she insisted on taking a shower, she’d fall asleep under the streaming water, and that would just be wasteful.

(“And we can’t have that, Baobei,” a deep, gentle voice softly told her, as larger hands guided her on how to soap all the wet plates together first. “Water is scarce in many places in the world in this day and age, and we must show our gratitude by not wasting it so easily.” Xialing felt a light pat on her hair, a slight ruffle, “can you do that?”

She nodded, enthusiastic as she scrubbed the grimes a little harder, trying to detach the remnants of oil and spices from the porcelains so that the water would rinse the objects more thoroughly. “Mmhm!” She hummed, offering a bright toothy grin up, “Lingling will do as Ba—“)

“—Ling?”

She snapped awake, blinking rapidly to regain full consciousness. “Sorry, I was pretty out of it.” She said groggily as she straightened herself up—fix your posture, Baobei, don’t slouch—looking at Er-Gege with slowly focusing eyes. “You were saying?”

Er-Gege raised his eyebrows, but he shrugged and waved a hand at the direction of the TV. “That DDR Carpet looks a little… out, compared to your other furnitures.”

Xialing snorted, throwing Er-Gege a ‘tell-me-what-I-don’t-know’ look. “That’s vintage.” She said, cupping her face with her hands, leaning over to the coffee table.

“To whom?”

Sighing in annoyance, Xialing couldn’t help but to feel a little defensive about the old mat; it might be ragged and old, it might be worn and torn at its sides, nibbled by the sneaky rat at Xialing’s old loft, but, “It’s the thing I slept on, my first night here.” She said, “It’s a reminder.”

Er-Gege’s judgy expression softened, as he fully turned at her with his arms crossed. “A reminder?” he echoed, curiously inquiring. There was no malice in his tone, only an invitation to open up in a way that eerily reminded her of Gege, “of what?”

Xialing looked at the worn arrows and recalled laughter; scanned the tacky colors and remembered warmth; eyed the frayed edges and missed three pairs of eyes, looking at her like she was someone, her own person, not a walking remnant of someone else, not a ghost before she even died—

“Of good times.” She smiled, small and bitter and yearning.

Er-Gege nodded, glancing at her one last time before moving on, letting it go. He made a comment about her kitchen counter, how it was too Americanized and needed a revamp, but Xialing was very sleepy, suddenly.

(Baobei—

Meimei—)

She sighed, laying herself to the armrests of the sofa, and closed her eyes, dreaming of nothing.

When she woke up, it was noon, there was a steaming porridge on her coffee table, and there was Er-Gege, fumbling over her TV. “What—” she stretched, cracked her joints. “What time is it?”

Turning at her in surprise, Er-Gege grinned almost immediately. “Look who finally woke up.” He said, tone light and teasing. “I bought the porridge from that Auntie’s restaurant you like so much—go eat it first.”

Xialing straightened herself, gingerly taking her first spoonful, letting the warmth of the meal melt away the weariness in her bones. “Thanks,” she said, smiling at the bowl, feeling like she was truly her age for the first time in a very long while. “And what are you doing to my TV?”

“Oh, this?” he jabbed a finger to the screen, which was displaying the HDMI menu. “I’m plugging in a PS2.” he said, shrugging before he dove again, lifting a black bulku box that looked just like the one they used to have at home. “I got this baby at a second-hand electronic shop, and they apparently sold old DDR game disks!” He grinned, before returning the device and returned to his work, this time to the mat’s underside, seemingly searching for its wirings.

Xialing blinked, spoon suspended mid-way to her mouth, warm meals suddenly forgotten. “...why?” She asked, something simultaneously familiar and foreign slowly easing their way into her chest, squeezing it with something sharp but not painful.

Er-Gege watched her oddly, like she was asking something stupid. “To play, of course.” he said, as if the answer itself was obvious. “This bad boy seemed like it hadn’t been used to its purpose for years, and I’ve never seen you dance before.” He grinned mischievously.

Her throat constricted into something tight and heavy, and Xialing looked further down. “I—” she mumbled, “I don’t really remember how to.”

She heard a snort and looked up, nearly fearfully, to see Er-Gege looking at her with something akin to mirth. “So what? We can always re-learn!” He said, waving a hand at the carpet, “it literally has arrows to tell you where to go; if you can kick people’s ass ordinately, you can definitely play this.” He grinned.

It was true, but something about the familiarity of all this made Xialing feel like she should run away, like she should protect herself because what if she was happy and then it was taken from her again— “I don’t think we should,” she said, voice still so uncharacteristically small and vulnerable and fuck she missed Gege’s uncoordinated legs stepping into her and mama and she missed Baba cheating to win and she missed mama, she missed mama so much it hurt—

“Hey, Xu Xialing,” Er-Gege’s voice snapped her out of her spiral, softer tone breaking her reverie. “You said it reminds you of good times.” he rose from his squat, hand reaching out to touch her hair—always a perfect bob—and ruffle it lightly. “Far as I know, good times should be experienced, not just reminisced.”

She blinked, and for a split second she saw two other faces, grinning at her in a smile she’d yearned to see for so long.

“Okay.” She said, nodding slowly, “Okay.”

They ended up missing the night’s match, and the manager of the ring-fight yelled at Er-Gege for not bringing his best Champion to the arena, but as they laughed late into the night, teasing each other’s stiff moves and calling out their horrible attempts at cheating against each other, Xialing felt like she was home for the first in a very long time.

***

“Baba?”

She peeped at the door, loose hair falling, curtaining over her face. She was eleven now, spending her birthday with an array of nannies and tutors, gifted jewelleries and served the best dishes on an empty dinner table, singing happy birthday to herself.

Baba’s work room was always dark, only luminized by the reading lamps, and sometimes those damned rings. He didn’t look up from his papers, but Xialing had trained herself in reading the miniscule when she realized that she would never be given something visible again, and she saw how his shoulders stiffened, how his eyes blinked rapidly, how his ears perked, slightly.

He said nothing to acknowledge her existence, but he also didn’t shoo her away, so Xialing took what she could get. “It’s my birthday today.” She said, voice small, always feeling small, too small in this big room, this big house, “and I was wondering if—if we could spend it together? Just—” she shrugged, helplessly, already compromising her own wishes if it meant a nod from Baba, an affirmation, anything, “I don’t know, watch a movie or something…”

Her eyes glanced at their new living room behind her, barely inspiring those inside it to live; it was cold and spartan, so unlike the Living Room back Home, where everything was warm and alive. In her old home, everything was strewn haphazardly, dance mats kicked several meters away from the front of the TV and karaoke mics on the couch. Here, the TV was never on, and all the mics and mats and cassettes were locked into the top shelf, the unspoken instructions clear; do not touch. Do not take. Do not open.

Do not Relive.

Baba moved, straightening himself, and in the silence that passed Xialing blinked, letting her hopes go up—

“I’m quite busy right now, Xialing.” He said, tone detached and performative, not even looking up to her as he spoke. “Maybe later.”

Definitely never.

“Oh.” Xialing deflated, looking down, slowly retreating. “Okay.” she whispered, mostly to herself as she pulled the door close once more. “Goodnight, Baba.”

She was replied with only a hum, and she dared not to look up lest she saw him still focused on that damn paper, refusing to look at her, to see her even when it was her birthday because in his eyes she was not A-Ling anymore, not Baobei, not Meimei, just some personification of his fucking dead wife and—

Xialing fell asleep waiting for him on the couch anyway, despite everything, waiting for that later despite knowing that it was a lie.

She woke up in her room, alone, always alone.

It had been like this for a long while, now, but with Gege not returning home and her being the only child he had left in the compound, she had hoped—

Well. she had hoped.

That was her first mistake.

***

“You know, for a compound this big, I thought your dad would have more stuff.” Said Katy as the three of them cleaned up the main house. With Baba cremated and his ashes placed on the same altar as Mama, they only needed to clean his place.

Which apparently didn’t require that much effort, given how little of him existed there.

Somewhere deep within her, she recognized that it was heartbreaking to live like this, but that part was buried layers below anger and pettiness at how that exact way of life had sacrificed her.

“He’s so… spartan.” Commented Gege as he observed the high shelves, trying to find a more personal belonging to salvage. “There’s barely anything here.”

“You can use big words? Shocking.” Replied Xialing, tone flat and sarcastic as she took what she thought was valuable; the Lucky Cat figurine they brought from their old Home, family photos that were pushed into the far back, some sick-looking swords… “I thought the US’ horrible education system had stripped out all of your intelligence.”

“I liked you better when you were smaller and less sarcastic.” Grumbled Gege as he threw her a look. Xialing snorted.

“And I liked you better when you were smaller and not abandoning me,” jabbed Xialing, to which Gege replied by pinching her on her arm, not much to hurt so she knew it was in good nature. “Besides, you only do not like me because I’m cooler than you.”

“Now on that front, she’s definitely right.” Katy piped up, and Gege groaned, grumbling something about all the women in his life ganging up against him. “Face it, Shaun, you’re a little lame compared to the rest of your family.”

“I was laying low!” He protested to Katy, to which Xialing snorted. “And besides, you’re working in the same field as I am, receiving the same pay. If I’m lame, you’re lame too.”

“Oh, I know.” Katy said, not missing a beat. “But my family is a bunch of immigrant workers, not some thousand-year-old warlord and a magical guardian of the mystiques. I have excuses, Shaun—you don’t.”

“I can see why you keep her.” Xialing said, in-between her chuckles. “Keep it up, Jiejie.” She raised a thumb up to Katy with her free hand, and Katy—did Katy blush?

“Okay, back to cleaning up!” Gege’s bellowing voice cut the both of them, only slightly annoyed. “A-Ling, what did you get?” She showed him her reapings, to which ke gestured her to place it on the open suitcase at the couch.

“All these books were dusty, unopened from their wrappings…” Katy said as she scanned the bookshelves, “and is the TV wiring corroded? Shaun, did your father never watch TV?”

Xialing and Gege exchanged glances, shrugging. The image of Baba doing anything fun after mama had died was so … foreign to them. “I guess he’s too consumed by his work.” Gege said, though she knew he doubted his own words as much as she did, for the Ten Rings had barely done anything for the past ten years.

Katy shook her head in disbelief as she scanned more of the cupboards. “Books, jewels, antique swords—what are even these weapons?—oh! Here’s a fun rack!” Her steps stopped, “now there’s more personality; PS2, karaoke mic, a bunch of game discs, and—” she snorted, “A fucking DDR mat? Hey, Shaun, did your dad really play DDR?”

Xialing paused, head turning to Katy abruptly. “A DDR mat?” She echoed, straightening herself and walking to Katy’s side, interest piqued.

“Yeah!” Katy affirmed, pulling the rolled up mat down from the storage, unbinding it with one pull. “Looks old and worn, too.” She snorted, “What I really would give to see your scary dad dancing to this…”

But Xialing wasn’t listening. She felt like everything around her was buzzing.

“...Lingling?” Someone’s hand was on her shoulder, and she snapped, looking up to see Gege looking down on her, frowning as his grip on her tightened. “Meimei, you okay?”

Xialing wanted to say something, anything, because that wasn’t just some mat; she recognized it—had danced to it countless times when she was young, had brought it with her when she ran away, had slept on it on her first night in Macau, had—

“I threw that away.” She said, not quite recognizing her own voice as she reached to the frayed edges. “In Macau, when I moved to a better apartment—I threw that away.”

I had it with me, was unspoken, he wasn’t supposed to—

And suddenly she was reminded on that night in her Club, Baba standing in front of her and Gege, offering them his smile, and she thought she’d been dreaming then, a childish delusion resurfacing after seeing a familiar face for so long, but—

“I always know,” he had smiled, and there was something there, something not quite cold, not the way he usually was after, something akin to the expression Xialing saw at the mirror in the morning when she had a particularly bad day and all she wanted was Baba’s guotie and mama’s soup— “where my children are.”

***

CODA.

Opening her bedroom door with his elbow, Xu Wenwu made soft, careful movements so as to not wake his youngest from his arms.

She was deep in her sleep when he found her sprawled on the couch at the wee hours of midnight, leaning her head on one side of the armchairs. When he lifted her up, she felt like she weighed far lighter than she should have—he frowned, he’d have to talk with the chef about that—and she only grumbled lightly, before snuggling her face to the crook of his neck, seeking comfort.

Gently, he placed her onto the bed, adjusting the pillows and tucking in the blankets. She was eleven years old but she still looked like she was a baby when she was asleep like this—his baby, his Baobei.

Xialing harrumphed when he slowly released her, one hand unconsciously clutching to his white shirt. Wenwu paused, freezing, fearing that he’d got caught.

(Fearing what?

He didn’t know.)

Wenwu let her fingers clutch the fabric until they relaxed on its own, before slowly extricating her grip away from his clothing. He tucked her hand inside the blanket with the rest of her, and swpt her unruly bangs, looking at her face.

Like this, she looked just like Ying Li.

Something caught in his throat, heavy and shuddering, and Wenwu looked away. A thousand years, he thought bitterly, and his undoing is just some little girl’s face.

He shook his head, swallowing the emotions away, letting it be buried deep once more. He knew he had sinned, knew he wronged his children to a fault, but he just—

Not for the first time that night, he wished his wife was still here, telling him what to do, telling him she loved him, telling him how to love.

But she wasn’t, and their daughter was turning eleven, and he was sitting there at the edge of her bed, wishing more than anything for some magic to come and unbreak this broken family the way Ying Li had to his cold, greedy heart all those years ago in the forest.

Xialing—His A-Ling, his Baobei, his child—stirred in her sleep, and Wenwu could see tear tracks on her cheeks, crusty and fading.

He leaned over, forehead to hers, and whispered, softly, “Happy birthday, Baobei.”

Baba is sorry, he thought, hoping the unsaid would reach her anyways, even if he didn’t dare to say it out loud.

The night was clear, the windows closed, but the wind tousled his hair lightly, gentle and mournful.

#shang chi and the ten rings #shang chi #xu shang chi #xu shangqi #xialing #xu xialing #xu wenwu #wenwu #ying li #this movie made me sob two days after i saw it and i'll be DAMNED if i don't do it justice #Xialing deserves better baby!

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percywinchester27 · 7 years ago

Text

The surprise

Word count: 1600-ish

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Fluff! :)

A/N: This is for my Darling friend Kari’s ( AKA @thing-you-do-with-that-thing) birthday! Despite what you say, you ARE an older sis to me, and I love you more than I can put into words. Thank you for adopting me and for sticking by me in my thick and thin. I hope you like this ;)

beta’d by the super sweet and talented @deanssweetheart23. Thank you so much babe! I owe you one!

"So where are we going?" You asked, tugging at the blindfold. Sure, you loved birthday surprises, but the guy in the driver's seat had been taking it to the other freaking end. He had been at it for days now.

Jensen would turn up late for dates, wouldn't stay over anymore, and every time you asked him, he'd sweat bullets and change the topic. If you didn't know your boyfriend better, you'd have jumped to the worse conclusions. You would have assumed the very worst and started panicking about it. But you knew Jensen. He was as big a dork as you when it came to little things, but if it was something serious, he was enough of a gentleman to come clean about it.

So you turned to the next best option available, and ended up at Jared's house at an ungodly hour. This was easier than worrying about what was wrong with Jensen. Jared's annoyed expression immediately softened when he saw you at the door, before turning into a worried one.

"Y/N?" He rubbed at his eyes, 'What's wrong?"

"I need you to tell me what's wrong with Jensen," you asked, point blank.

"What's wrong with him?" He was looking more and more confused by the minute. Which would have been adorable if you hadn't been hyperventilating with worry.

"Something is," you threw your hands up in the air, barging into the living room. "I know there is something wrong with the guy because he is avoiding me like the fucking plague. He's never home anymore. Doesn't even stay back to walk Santo these days. And he loves doing that. So don't you tell me there is nothing wrong with him!"

You watched as obvious understanding dawned on Jared's face, before he ran a hand through his hair, looking equal parts guilty and nervous.

"I know you know something, you giant moose," you narrowed your eyes at him, wiggling a finger. "You better tell me what it is."

Jared shifted his weight from one leg to another. He knew you were stubborn to the last cell of your body. One way or another, you would find out.

He sighed. "I swear to God Y/N, if you breathe a word about this to him…"

"Just spit it out already!" You all but yelled.

"Fine," he gave in. You had never seen him look guiltier, and this was including the time he had decided that it was funny to let the air out of your tires, making you late for work. "He is planning a birthday surprise for you."

"Oh…" It was all you could say. You had been so worried about something being so inexcusably wrong with him, that the thought of a birthday present for you hadn't even crossed your mind.

"He is planning a birthday present for me, by ignoring me?" You thought out loud, tilting your head to a side.

"These things take time, Y/N," Jared said sagely, and you narrowed your eyes at him again.

"What do you mean by these things?"

"Nothing! I already told you enough to land me in lifetime's worth of trouble. I'm not saying another word," he said, shaking his head.

He promptly banished you from his house after that, muttering about lifetime of trust issues, broken bro code and such.

That had been two weeks ago, and even though patience was not exactly your best quality, you decided to take things at Jensen's pace and be nice about it.

However, you still loved making Jensen uncomfortable once in a while as you fake whined about how little time he was spending with you. Now that you knew there was nothing to worry about, it was almost easier to watch him go, when he untangled himself out of your arms on Saturday nights. Almost.

"Are we there yet?" You whined from the passenger's seat. You had been counting the time. It hadn't been more than half an hour. After a while even the turns he had been taking became harder to remember. Left, right, left, left again…left… or was it right? Uhhggg…Where was he taking you?

You would be lying if you said that you hadn't been giving "the surprise" any thought. In fact, on lonely nights, it was all you could think about. What was this present that was keeping him away from you? Was he taking you out to a lunch? Was he planning the perfect date? The poor guy barely got weekends off from all the flying and hectic shooting schedules. You hated to think that he was putting unnecessary efforts into the gift and tiring himself.

"Almost there," he said lightly, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

"You're such a tease," you giggled.

"Yeah, you love it," he told you.

"Not so much right now."

The car slowed down and gradually came to a halt.

"We're here," he announced.

"Fucking finally," you muttered, as he helped you out of the passenger seat, gently guiding you over what felt like smooth asphalt.

You tried to tap at the floor with your foot to try and gauge where you were, but you gave it up in no time, because you could barely think of anything that wasn't Jensen the moment his hands touched your bare shoulder. A tingle went up your spine. You shook your head at the effect the man had on you.

He guided you up a couple of steps and you couldn't help but tug at the blindfold.

"Hey, you can't remove it yet," Jensen chided you. "Only a couple of minutes now.”

"Okay," you acquiesced, drawing both your hands behind your back, playing the good girl. It earned you a chuckle from Jensen. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

You heard him fumble with keys, and then a lock click.

"Where are we?" You couldn't help but ask. He only chuckled in response, drawing you closer, as he closed the door behind the two of you.

God you wanted to jump his bones right then and there as the door hit the frame and the lock clicked. But there was no telling whether or not you were alone, so you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and behaved yourself. Jensen led you through seemingly familiar turns inside the space until you were treading another set of stairs, but this time you were stepping down, into cool grass.

You could feel Jensen's plump lips against your forehead as he kissed you chastely.

"I'm gonna open the blindfolds now," he murmured against your skin. You knew him well enough to sense the nervousness in his voice.

His hands fumbled a little as he undid the knot, and you opened your eyes. It wasn't what you had expected, yet your heart took off at a sprint.

You were standing in the backyard of Jensen's water facing property. At first you didn't realise what was different, and then you saw it.

It was a kennel. Small and very woodsy. It wasn't very decorative, but it was neat and well made. What made it special was that it was the exact color of your house. The roof had shingles of the exact shade of brown and the wooden walls were painted the same pastel hue. That and the fact that the small board above it read "Santo."

Your eyes immediately filled up as you grasped the meaning behind his gesture, and you turned back to see him staring at your nervously, his hands scratching the back of his neck.

"It's very small, and I really didn't know what I was doing at first, but I think it's come out okay. The backside is a little dented because Jared sat on it at some point and we didn't have time to get more planks. And I know Santo doesn't sleep outside, he sleeps on the bed with you, but I just thought it would be nice to…"

You cut his nervous rambling off as you captured his lips in yours, conveying your obvious answer. You could feel him loosening into your touch, as all the tension left his body. His arms enveloped around you, and he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. When you finally broke off, the two of you were out of breath.

"It's beautiful," you told him. "But you didn't have to do all that to ask me to move in with you, dumbass!"

"Who told you I was asking you to move in?" He winked, leaning in for another kiss. "I only want Santo."

You giggled at that, hitting him playfully in the chest. "You idiot!"

He pulled you against his chest, and you sighed contentedly. "I love you, Y/N. I know it's only been a couple of months, but it's stupid to wait when you know you've found the perfect person. Happy birthday, Y/N/N."

You knew you didn't have to say it back to him, because he understood. So you only burrowed deeper in his hold, tightening your arms around him. The thought of waking up to him every morning and sharing your life with him was so overwhelming that you weren't sure you could manage to speak without your voice breaking just yet.

But Jensen understood, you knew he did.

All you wanted to do was pull him back into the house and drag him into the bed with you. Which was exactly what you did. Santo could manage to stay out of the bed for one night ;)

This is my first time writing RPF out of blurbs. PLEASE tell me if I sucked?

Tagging the Jensen tag team that never expected to be tagged (Surprise bitches!):

@torn-and-frayed @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @frickfracklesackles @supernatural-jackles @mogaruke @missdestiel67 @brihughes4 @docharleythegeekqueen @impandagrl @luna-plena-venandi @jotink78 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @melonberri @maui137 @dustycelt @its-my-perky-nipples @grace-for-sale @iamnotsaneatall @aiaranradnay @feelmyroarrrr @thevioletthourr @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @sandlee44 @thebitterbookeater @plainoldblogs @silver-and-green @meeshw777 @mamapeterson @bemyqueenofdarkness @liveyourlifemeraki @bambinovak @emoryhemsworth @boxywrites @autopistaaningunaparte @cloverhood @blacktithe7 @emilycollins11 @devilgirlsarah @michellethetvaddict @its-not-a-tulpa @benzilla-94 @grace-for-sale

Taking the liberty to tag @mysupernaturalfics cause why not :P

#jensen x reader #reader x jensen #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles rpf #rpf #reader x jensen ackles #jensen reader insert #the surprise #Ana writes Jensen #Ana writes RPF #anawrites #anawritesspn

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