#i almost did hurt/comfort but uh. i've had this idea for a while and. yeah :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ilovefoodandslasherswithmasks · 4 months ago

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So I decided on a first fan fiction idea, what's it gonna be? Angst, of course. Pure angst. Why? I found the perfect inspiration Song,

I know it's over, by the smiths. My first thought was like omg. So prepare to suffer in this first Fan Fiction. The time line of the song and stuff doesn't match but imagine it does. It's a Eddie Munson x reader angst (maahahahah) I'm so mean. But this is also how I cope with a comfort character loss.

You were the dream I woke up from way to soon.

It's been the summer of 1983 when you meet Eddie, he was, well, special?

He had weird habits like chewing his hair on occasion when he's nervous, you found it endearing.

Eddie didn't care about fitting the mold, he didn't care about the Monster of Hawkins High on his heel.

You two meet in the most stupid way possible, you used to stay under the radar for your own good, but one class he decided to crack the most dark and kind of disrespectful joke you've heard in a while. And your humor, made you snort and got you both expelled for 3 days.

You both were sent to the principals office, you hanging your head feeling slightly ashamed, especially cause this was a first time thing, you never got expelled before. While he, took it rather casually and kept rambling all the way to the office. When the both of you sat infront of the principal, he sassed around making you snort and giggle, which caused the expelling in the first place. You would've just gotten detention but well what can I say.

When the principal send you away to go home ASAP, Eddie just followed you to your locker, much to your confusion.

"Why are you following me?"

"Oh just thought I haven't seen you here before so I'm trying to jog my memory, are you new?" He asked. Gosh it kinda hurt.

"No actually I've been here for almost two years now. Uh just you know stayed under the radar." You said awkwardly, at least you actually stayed under the radar?

"Oh..well damn, if I knew a pretty girl with dark humor went to this school sooner, I would've made you laugh a long time ago"

'God, is he flirting right now??' That's all that went through your mind.

Days went by, Eddie always around you, those 3 days of being expelled and him suggesting to hang out since you both got in trouble together so 'it's only right to be expelled together too' really did wonders.

You went to his trailer the second day of being expelled, you both got a bit high and had some real deep talks, no idea why but a lot was laid open (lmao), the both of you grew close over such a short time.

Those days became weeks, then months, and eventually it was the year 1984.

His year, like he said. He got to know this girl called Paige (yall she's from the book flight of icarus, check it out it's actually so good) you started to lose one another slowly, you wouldn't say you're jealous, but you were disappointed when suddenly the deep feelings you shared started feeling one sided.

So the both of you grew apart, days turned to months again. Till she left, which, not to sound rude, you were so happy about. But Eddie was still not around like he used to be, yeah he glanced at you whenever you were around. He did that while Paige was around as well, but he never approached you, and it hurt.

So since he was a coward, seeing him at one of the frat parties wasn't the usual sight.

He was dressed the same but so different, he wore a iron maiden tank top (which he sloppily cut the sleeves off) and dark blue jeans and his usual sneakers and bracelets etc.

He had pulled his hair together and fuck, he never looked better.

You got a bit tipsy which made you a bit to confident so you went to him.

"Well Munson, we need to fuckung talk!"

"Oh hi uh sure what about?" He asked fumbling with his rings.

"Not here,come on" you grumbled pulling him out of the house to the small backyard where a few teens laid passed out on the grass and the slide (don't drink yall).

Huffing you sat on the stairs as he hesitated before sitting down too.

Just silent he waited for you to speak. Minutes went by and you felt the rage and sadness of him dropping you starting to resurface.

"Fuck what were you thinking!? Heck we got along so well, then that Paige girl shows up, she's all you talk about for days then suddenly you don't talk to me at all anymore. Following her like some dog while I was drowing in the feelings I have for you and feeling the feelings you had for me vanish so fast!" You practically scold him as you gathered up the courage and blurt it out, tears slipping a little as you stand up with an annoyed groan.

"I thought you liked me, like some idiot!"

Just silent, he just stared at you.

You waited and waited and snapped.

"Fuck,will you say something!? It wasn't difficult for you to yap to her!"

You were slowly losing it, you felt betrayed all over again,he couldn't even spare you a simple response or rejection.

He slowly started.

"What do you mean with feelings you have? And feelings I had?"

"Oh please, don't play dumb, the fact we always flirted, or the amount of times I caught you tempted to kiss me! God Eddie, please tell me it wasn't all in my head!?"

He just stared at his hands playing with his rings, thinking of what to say.

"Oh damn it...you know what forget it!" You mumble hurt and annoyed, you just confessed to get nothing in return. Stupid. So you walk back up the stairs, past him, back into the house, past all the party goers and walked the miles back home. Your feet aching already but you didn't care, you felt so much you just wanted to get it out of your mind, and let your poor heart rest.

It's taken days of you ignoring Eddie in school, as he practically ran after you like a puppy whenever he got the chance. You grew tired of it, it felt like being mocked for some reason. You saw yourself, trying so hard for his attention when Paige showed up, you didn't blame her, she was gorgeous, you probably would've done the same if you were in Eddie's shoes. But knowing that you ran after him in school during those days and he always hit you with the "Sorry I got plans" or "ah damn um I can't come after all Paige told me she was free today" etc.

But he still managed to grab you to the side after school, you walked past the football field where he sold behind the small tree line. He took the opportunity to pull you away.

"Please, will you please hear me out!?"

"Hear you out? What do you want me to listen to? You swooning some more over Paige? No big pass"

"No! God will you stop!? I'm sorry okay! I was so naive she told me she could help make me and the band famous. I really thought I could do it. I completely neglected you and I see that now, and I wish I didn't. You're so damn important to me. Please believe me." He rambled, holding your wrists, like he was scared you'd walk away if he didn't. Like you've done for days.

"I confessed to you Eddie, you didn't even say anything when I did. You just stayed silent and I deserve better. So fuck, I don't care what you have to say now, the ship sailed a long time ago and you missed the chance!"

"God Sweetness please don't say that"

You could feel your heart clench at the nickname he had given you a few weeks after you two officially meet. It has been so long since the last time you heard him say it.

"Don't call me that! We're not close like that anymore. You obviously don't want me the way I want you so just drop it."

You already freed you hands about to walk away when he rambled it out.

"I WANT YOU, fuck I wanted you since the day you sat down next to me in that class, and I finally got the guts to talk to you when you laughed at my joke. When we got expelled. Damn, I- I don't know what I thought I was doing when I pushed you away, I didn't mean to...but I want you, fuck, the amount of times I wanted to go to you and tell you about what I manged to get done and knew I couldn't because it would be so out of no where you'd probably feel worse about it..if I came to you to talk about Paige..so I didn't...I'm so sorry Sweetness, believe me"

You just shook as the cold autumn air hit you.

You turn around to look at him.

"That's so not fair!" Taking a shaky breath you continue,

"It's so not fair for you to say all this after I waited for you to return to your old self! I waited like a fool all day all night hoping you'd show up on my doorstep, like you always did, randomly at the worst time possible! You don't get to say all this after you hurt me!"

He just pulled you into a hug as you cried, so exhausted and confused about what you were supposed to do next. Damn you forgot how good of a hugger he was.

(Anyways time skip, I'm feeling lazy and this is taking long)

After the heart felt exchange he finally asked you out, took him a few days to gather the courage but he did anyways. You said yes, obviously, you didn't wait like a abonded pet for nothing!

It was great, he took you on dates, you stayed at his trailer when Wayne wasn't home, cuddled up watching a movie, or jumping around to some of his music blasting in his room, or just made out like those other lovelost couples.

It was great, till the whole thing with Chrissy happened,you were so scared for him, you went around town day in day out, looking for him. No idea where he was. Frightened about the mob of angry people looking for him.

You didn't find him at all, you saw Nancy by his trailer talking to Wayne, but you shrugged it off. You talked to Wayne and he soothed you when you panicked about him just having vanished,he didn't even come find you. Which you understood people would look for him at your place first. You had to throw some out after they burst in as you opened the door even just an inch.

It was madness.

You went days in fear and worry, till the earthquake..

No Eddie, everyone but not him, no body, not a trace of him.

Just gone, like a dream you had. Like it was never real.

You couldn't stand the funeral, only few people attended. I mean King Steve? You weren't surprised about Dustin and The other hellfire members, but Robin, Steve, Nancy and who else. They didn't know Eddie?

They didn't know him.

Why were they there? Just out of pity?

You didn't have a clue, but you hung on to the hope Eddie was fine, no Body no case. Right?

It had been weeks since the memorial like funeral, you went to his spot everyday,cleaned the grave stone from the hateful messages. Placed new flowers after the old ones where stomped on.

It took weeks till the others decided to tell you what happened, the guilt of you being so painfully unaware getting the best of them.

Steve told you while the others stood silent, you only rembered breaking down, the last hope you had shattered like the cup Eddie always made you tea in.

You knew it was over, the empty Cold bed, wasn't just temporary.

Another night on your own, more coming.

All gone no way it would return to you.

"But we had so many plans!!! We never got to go to a concert!" You cried out the lost moments of the future like it would suddenly change this all.

But no, you were so harshly woken up from this dream.

The hopeless trying to fall back asleep didn't work, like it never did.

He was gone, and so was the dream.

(Yall istg the ending was rushed af, I promise this isn't it, I probably will write another chapter, if yall want me to. Anyhowww! It's almost October!! Ahh I love spooky season.) Also the song is so good, I legit can't stop seeing him in it 😔 I wish he didn't get taken out of stranger things. He could've been a major character for longer. I cry everytime I rematch.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #stranger things #fanfic

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ahummingbirdwitch · 7 months ago

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hello! i was wondering if i could request a vash x reader hurt/comfort scenario? i've been having a tough time lately, i need that freaky blonde guy to hold me while i cry a little qwq. ok thank you, have a nice day! :3

Sure thing, anon 💕

Shoulder to Cry On (Vash x GN!Reader)

Summary: It’s been a rough day at work. Luckily, Vash is there to bring you a little peace of mind.

Pairing: Vash x GN!Reader

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1280

Warnings: none

Notes: You’re free to imagine any version of Vash you like! I didn’t have a particular one in mind when writing this

You wished it didn’t have to be so hard sometimes.

No matter what you did, it felt like the world was always beating you down relentlessly. It was cruel out here—it always was, everywhere you went on No Man’s Land—but this week had been particularly cruel to you. It had been a month since you’d moved to the small town of Barton, and working as a server at the local tavern had proven to be a mostly thankless job so far. The work never ended, the dishes always piled up, and the customers could be such assholes.

Today you’d been off your game, you could admit that. You’d been a little slower waiting tables, a little more forgetful than usual, but flubbing someone’s order by mistake hardly warranted a gun being pulled on you in the middle of the tavern.

Luckily, a stranger in a red coat had been there to turn the tables on the prick, but you hadn’t stuck around long enough to see how it had all ended. You’d heard a bullet or two get fired, but you’d hightailed it out of there the second the customer’s attention had shifted to someone else. You’d retreated out the back door, and you found yourself sitting in the alley now, head in your hands.

Tears welled up in your eyes, traveling down your cheeks in rivets and collecting in your palms. It was taking all of your strength not to break down completely.

Why? Why this? Why me? Am I fired? Am I—

“Um—excuse me?”

You froze at the sound of a voice behind you. You thought at first it was your boss, or worse, another customer with a bone to pick, and dread flooded you. You wiped your eyes hurriedly, but when you turned, you found the stranger from before—the one who had saved your life—standing by the door, red coat billowing out behind him. Young guy. Sunglasses. Spiky blonde hair.

“Oh, h-hey,” you responded, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “It’s you, you—saved me back there.”

The man scratched the back of his head, looking almost bashful. “Oh, that? That was, uh—nothing, really. Saw someone in distress, had to act.” His look became one of concern. “Are… you okay?”

No, you wanted to answer. Not at all. You hesitated. “Yeah,” you said after a moment. “I’m—I’m okay.”

“You sure?” he asked, moving slightly closer. “He didn’t, uh… hurt you before that, or anything, did he?”

You shook your head. “No. He was… fine before that. A little nasty, but I’m used to those.” You chuckled bitterly. “I messed up his order. It came out wrong, and… that’s when it happened.”

The man frowned. “One little mistake? What a lowlife. Glad I kicked his ass to the curb back there. He won’t be coming back, don’t you worry.”

Hearing that filled you with relief, though it was fleeting. “Thank you,” you said sincerely. “Really.”

His smile returned. “Anytime!” he said brightly. “Say, uh—what’s your name?”

You told him, deciding you trusted him more than enough.

He repeated it, sounding almost pleased. “Nice name,” he said. “Real nice. I’m Vash.”

Vash? You could’ve sworn you’d heard that name before, or seen it on a poster somewhere. You couldn’t remember now. “Nice to meet you,” you returned.

“You too,” he said with a smile. “Do you, uh, need me to walk you back in? He’s gone now, I promise. And it’s no problem, really.”

Your stomach roiled at the idea of going back inside, where your life had just been threatened. You wondered if there were any customers still left after that fiasco. You wondered if your boss was looking for you. No doubt he was, and was ready to blame you for whatever mess had been made inside the tavern.

That was, if you still had a job when you went back in.

You were trembling, and couldn’t do much to hide it. Fuck, why was this happening now? Why were you such a coward? “Um,” you started to say, voice quivering a bit, “I, uh—I think I need another minute. Out here.”

“Oh!” Vash looked understanding. “Yeah, sure thing. Take your time. I’ve, uh—gotta go now, but it was real nice meeting you.”

You felt a jolt in your heart all of a sudden. He was leaving? Now? Before you could stop yourself, you reached out to him. “Wait,” you uttered. “Can you…” Words began to fall from your lips of their own accord. “Can you… stay? For a minute?”

Vash blinked, eyes round with surprise, but his gaze quickly softened. “Yeah,” he answered. “Yeah… I’ve got a minute. You, uh, need someone lookin’ out for you? ‘Cause I can do that, no problem.” He laughed, and it was so damn infectious, it almost made you want to laugh, too.

But for whatever reason, it made you even sadder. You noticed his prosthetic arm; he’d been hurt in the past. Hurt badly. Who would ever hurt such a sweet, sincere guy?

Someone looking out for you. Everyone needed someone like that. You were no different.

Trying to steady yourself, you asked slowly, “What… happened back there? After I ran out?”

“Oh.” He thought for a moment. “Well, I saw him pull his gun on you, so I, uh, got up and told him to stop. He was kinda riled up, and we tussled a bit. He shot at me a few times.”

“That was him?” you asked. You only remembered hearing a couple of gunshots. “Not… you?”

“Nah.” He shook his head. “I’ve got a gun, but… I try not to use it. If I can help it, y’know what I mean? I knew someone a long time ago, and she didn’t believe in hurting people like that. So I try to be like her. As much as I can, anyway.”

There was a stirring in your heart. Something about those words, so achingly genuine, struck you hard, and your eyes began to water again. You were moving forward now, before you knew what you were doing, some part of you needing to be closer to him. Like you were in the dark, and he was a beacon of light.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, laughing a little as you began to cry. “This probably sounds crazy,” you murmured. “But… can I hug you? Just for a second?” You rubbed one of your eyes, looking down at the ground. “Sorry, it’s just… been a really rough day.”

More than just today. This whole week. This whole month.

You regretted your request the moment it left your mouth. You started to back away, refusing to look up as tears clouded your vision, but all of a sudden, you felt arms around you. Your breath caught in your throat as you were pulled into a hug, Vash holding you close to his chest.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’ve gotcha. No worries.”

Just that little bit of comfort broke the dam inside of you. You clung to him, crying harder into his coat. It was dusty, and didn’t smell all that pleasant, but you couldn’t care less. He was warm, wonderfully so, and you couldn’t remember the last time you had someone hold you like this. Hold you at all. Be this kind.

It was okay that you barely knew him. You were grateful. Grateful that he’d saved you. Grateful that he was here, right now, and just for a moment, you didn’t have to worry so much about what was coming next.

Vash patted your back lightly, and you felt his breath on the top of your head when he spoke. “It’s okay, Mayfly,” he soothed. “It’s okay.”

#thanks for the request!#vash the stampede #vash x reader #trigun #trigun 98 #trigun stampede #trigun maximum

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whatevertheweather · 9 months ago

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an ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thank you for the tags @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @youarenevertooold I've been in search of ways to procrastinate <3

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

I'll go with one that isn't being posted yet: Callous.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Touch starvation + poor communication = Baz's No Good Very Bad Night

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

PTSD, disassociation, and, uh, emotional hurt/comfort?

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

Bold of anyone to assume I'm good enough at coming up with titles that I have multiple to choose from. Oh! But actually I do for Bait and Switch, thanks to Dre brainstorming fishing idioms with me. There were 4 alternatives, but my favorite is All is Fish, because it makes no fucking sense.

5. ⚠️Which WIP your most likely to finish or update next?

It had better be Musical Chairs.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

In an uncommon turn of events, I only have one (active) WIP right now that's not already named as it will be posted, and that's "yeah sure let's just write some shit that's way later and not finish the other that's fine"

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

It’s just…there’s also some deer in the headlights energy to him, which, mixed with the general aura of barely tamed violence, is throwing Shepard off. Truly, it’s been a good long while since he’s done this kind of pinballing over what he’s seeing when he looks at someone.

He does know what he’s seeing when he looks back at Simon. It’s the sort of face that has him politely averting his eyes to examine the bland thread of Simon’s shirt instead. He thinks walking in on the two of them tangled up without a stitch of clothing wouldn’t feel half as intrusive as looking at that expression did.

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

I had to abandon about a page of the above misnamed WIP (now to be succinctly abbreviated as YSLJWSSTWLANFTOTF) because it no longer fits the tone of the rest of the fic at all, which is sad because it made me laugh. It's too long to put here in its entirety, but here's part of one line, which shall function as the dead darling's eulogy: "I know you have a dick, Baz, I’ve fucking well been thinking about it!”

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Okay there's one I don't want to say much about because, selfishly, I want to be the one to write it, but it's related to truth spells. (Technically I've started it because there's a document with 10 scattered lines of dialogue, but I haven't started it started it.)

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

I'm trying to focus on 3, but I might have to say 4 here.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

I have rewritten the same 4 pages of Musical Chairs about 5 times. It's absurd. I know what's going to happen, I have the ending written, I have almost everything that gets us there written, and yet this section is u n d o i n g me.

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

I'm gonna take that as me sending kudos to all these lovely people: @cutestkilla @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @artsyunderstudy @fatalfangirl @whogaveyoupermission @iamamythologicalcreature @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral

#for number 6 I also have to give a shoutout to the callous chapter 'haha whoops more chapters'#my writing #ask game #(sort of?)

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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 1 year ago

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Watching Chris Pontius in his new podcast has me feeling really soft. Would you feel comfortable writing Pontius x FtM trans! Reader fluff?

Sex on the Beach

Y/N loves visiting the beach but he doesn’t go there for swimming ;)

Chris Pontius X FtM!Reader

(Fluff, Angst)

1.3k Words

Warnings: Mention of sex, crude language, breakups, makeups, tooth rotting fluff

An: Thank you so much for your request!! I spent so long perfecting this idea so I apologize if it took a while XD I’ve actually had this fic concept stewing in my brain for almost a year now, and I’m so happy that I could finally put it to paper! Chris is just such a sweet guy and I adore writing for him! I know there’s a bit of a fic drought for all you Pontius fans so I hope this quenches your thirst for content! ;)

Whenever you had a day off, you would always end up at the beach. While you were never too partial towards it, you lived in California, so it would be impossible not to eventually end up there. Sitting in the warm sand with your I Pod, you’d look out at the foamy tide as it washed over the sand before retreating back into the water. It was calming, in a way, but after a few minutes the ocean bored you, so your attention drifted elsewhere. That’s how it all started, with watching the surfers that skimmed the aqua blue horizon line.

And you saw him, his board held under one arm as he walked up onto the beach, tan muscles glistening with the salty dew of the pacific. It was like staring at a Greek god, the way water dripped from his long hair down his toned back. He must’ve caught you staring (but who wouldn’t) because he shot a glance over at you, giving you this cute, kinda dorky smile, “Hey!” Looking up at this captivating stranger like he was the only thing in the world, the only words you could muster in response were a shaky, “Hey.”

“So, y’like surfing?” He sat down next to you and, not wanting to sound like a total loser who just sat on the beach on their days off, you told him about half the truth, “Not really, nah…I’m not super into it, but I've always been kinda interested.” It was like he glowed gold, like he was made out of the sand he was sitting in, not at all discouraged by your shyness, “Ah, that’s cool! I could totally teach you sometime. I’m here all the time cause’ I live pretty close by.” You turned in the direction he gestured with his thumb- up a sand dune towards…the parking lot? You didn’t question it.

And you ended up talking for a while. Hours, actually, until the beach went cold as the sun began to turn amber and sink below the horizon. You learned a lot about him- his name was Chris, he was vegetarian, and when he wasn’t surfing he was working at the Lary Flynt building downtown on some skateboarding magazine. Maybe you’d pick an issue up, you thought. There was just something that attracted you to him, someone you found so endearing, so cute about him, and of course that fact that he had a body like that didn't hurt either. Feeling the wind chill, you rubbed your hands on your arms in an attempt to warm up. Chris noticed this, “Hey, if you’re cold, we could always head back to my place?” It was like he read your mind. Blushing a little, you nodded, “Uh, yeah! Sure!” You hoped that he wasn't one of those charming serial killers you hear about on the news- it’s not everyday that you go back to someone’s house you just meet on the beach. And after talking to him for about two hours, he did seem earnest enough, so you agreed.

You didn’t expect his house to have a rear view mirror. Or a transponder key. Usually, most people would see living out of a van as maybe a red flag, but you just couldn’t say no to that face as he popped the back open, looking over his shoulder at you with that goofy smile, “Come on in!”

And so you fucked. Regularly, after a while. Well not like clockwork, but there was sort of a routine- every time you had a day off work, you’d head down to the beach, and he was always there, all sandy and sun kissed waiting for you. Then the two of you would head up to his van, the Shaggin’ Wagon as you affectionately dubbed it, and he’d already have the seats laid back. And when you were done, Chris would drive on over to the McDonald’s and buy you breakfast like a gentleman.

You could feel the heat radiating off of the dark, late day asphalt as you dangled your bare feet out the open side door, Chris’ shirt lazily slumping off of your shoulders. Climbing back and taking a seat beside you, he passed you the warm white paper bag that you fished around in, grabbing your Sausage McMuffin. Peeling away the wrapper, you took a huge bite out of one end and brushed the semolina flour off of your shorts.

See, that’s the thing you really loved about him- Chris was the most chill person you had ever met. Hell, he’s a vegetarian and you were eating a sausage McMuffin next to him, and he was completely unbothered! He sorta had a ‘It’s cool, you do you’ attitude about everything. With Chris, nothing really mattered. But what started out as casual sex eventually turned into some sort of pseudo-relationship. Screwing and breakfast turned into actual meals together, dessert included.

You didn’t know what time it was when you sat together in a booth at Denny’s, but it was late enough that you were the only people in the restaurant, so probably in the early AMs. Staring down at your plate, you noticed that you had barely touched your Dennyburger, anxiety cloying in your throat, before you finally spoke up, “I, uh…” stopping to clear your throat, you continued, a little apprehensive for how he may react, “I don’t think this is gonna work out. I-I mean, I guess I just want something more serious, and…I don’t really see this getting serious.”

But he wasn’t upset. Chris just looked at you like he understood everything without you having to say another word. He smiled a little at you as he sat back in the shiny red leather booth, “It’s alright. I get it!” You hadn’t had a single boyfriend be so accepting of you breaking up with them before, but you weren’t going to say that. “But,” Leaning a bit forward, one elbow on the sticky tabletop, he added with a wink, “If you ever wanna meet up again, you know where to find me, okay?”

It would be a couple years before Chris would cross your mind again. You’d gotten a better job and finished school, but you’d also had a few lonely nights. Well, maybe more than a few. The sky was that rich, saffron color as you shifted your car into park, stepping out onto the pavement and looking down at the beach with baited breath, nervous for what may wait for you below the dunes. As your step shifted uncomfortably over the sand, it felt like everything was all the same as the last time you and Chris were there, like every grain of sand was frozen in time, waiting for you.

And there he was, standing behind the counter of the surf shack, waxing a board. Shirtless as ever, his hair was tied back, a little longer since you last saw him, concentrating so hard that he didn’t even notice you until you walked closer, leaning over him enough to cast a shadow. Chris’ eyes caught yours and you felt a wave of emotions wash over you at the little glimmer you saw in them when you made eye contact. It took a second for you to get the words out, but they eventually squirmed their way out of your throat, “Hey.” You watched his face soften a little as the eye contact settled in, “Hey!”

Leaning back a little, he paused, a warm smile spreading across his face as he held himself up against the back counter, quirking a playful eyebrow, “So…y’like surfing?” God, it was like you were falling in love all over again. Your heart throbbed in your chest and you swallowed a little before speaking up, “No…but I might wanna give it a try.”

#jackass #chris pontius #jackass fanfiction #jackass fanfic #fluff #jackass x reader #chris pontius x reader #I really had to include that dang van

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jadethest0ne · 2 years ago

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In need of Refueling, Chapter 32 - Nightdreams and Daymares

Summary: “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 2801

Ratings/Warnings: Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, panic attacks, abuse.

Notes: Red Son's nightmares get worse...

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

Everything burns. His surroundings, his clothes, his hair.

It hurts.

Red Son clings to himself, trying to protect what he can, but the fire just holds on tighter.

The fire is blue.

"Why?" he questions, though he's not sure to whom. "Samadhi Fire?"

There is a form that walks through the curtain of flames, and towers over him.

"Father!"

The Demon Bull King snorts out the flames from his nostrils. The True Fire of Samadhi billows around him and washes over Red Son in a blue wave.

He wakes up screaming

"What, what is it!" Red Son's eyes snap open to see Mei jump up, brandishing her sword. Though if there were truly any danger, Red Son isn't sure she'd actually be able to take it on since she still looks half asleep. She also seems almost in pain, one hand over her chest, gripping the fabric of her shirt there, tightly.

"Red Son! Are you okay?" Red Son's vision flickers over to MK, who looks at him nervously. "You were dreaming."

At this point Red Son had been hanging out with Mei and MK much more. Sleepovers were a common occurrence. Unfortunately, so were the strange dreams he was having, and he supposed that sooner or later the two would coincide yet again… Red Son moans and puts a hand up to his head, rubbing his hand through his hair, and putting out any errant sparks that flickered as a result of his tumultuous emotions. "I-- yeah. I was having a nightmare."

"You wanna talk about it?" MK asks. Mei seems to have realized that there is no danger and slowly crawls back over to the pillow pile. It's now bright outside, but Red Son can't be sure how early or late in the day it is, and Mei seems content to just sleep again. Red Son isn't sure if she's even fully awake or listening, but he decides to answer MK's question.

"There's honestly not much to say,” Red Son says. "I've been having this dream for the past few weeks or so... Ever since we defeated Spider Queen."

"The one with The Fire?" Mei asks. Guess she was still listening, Red Son muses.

He nods. "Yeah, but this time..." He hesitates. "It was, uh, I don’t know, more clear? I could see my father more clearly… and it felt–" He peters off, and Mei looks a bit more awake. MK looks nervous, but also like he's thinking of something.

"At least it didn’t affect my powers this time," Red Son says, trying to brush the awkwardness off.

"Yeah, but you've been having this kind of dream for a while," Mei says. "That sounds like an issue in itself, dude."

Red Son puts his head in his hands and groans frustratedly.

"Have you checked in on your parents recently?" MK asks.

Red Son's head snaps up. "Uh.. no actually." He had completely forgotten. Or maybe "forgotten" isn't the right word. "Avoiding it" might be a better choice of words. They were aware that he had a way to spy on his parents, but he hadn’t been open about how little or how often he did.

He takes out his phone, but hesitates before opening the program he uses to spy through the bullbots.

"What's the holdup?" Mei asks, she still seems sleepy, but engaged in the drama.

"I just-- I don’t want to look because I was trying to put the past behind me." Red Son says.

"Yeah?" MK says.

"I thought I was with you guys now, so I don't need to look, right?"

"Well something in your subconscious must be bothering you about that," Mei says.

"It's not just that..." Red Son squirms. There's something about his dreams and the fire that he'd been trying to avoid thinking about. As if he was afraid of speaking it into existence. "It's the Samadhi Fire. It feels... kind of alive. I was worried that I might be awakening it in my dreams."

"Why's that so bad? Maybe that means you can control it again or something." Mei pushes.

Red Son sighs dramatically and looks at MK, who still seems a bit nervous about this whole talk, but genuinely curious to what Red Son has to say.

"If I awakened it or if my parents found out where I was... Well, I didn't want to subject that to any of you again..." Red Son says quickly.

There is a beat.

Then Mei, now fully awake lets out a big "Awwwww!!! Red Son cares about how we feel!"

"Ugh, shut up!" Red Son rolls his eyes.

MK’s nervousness changes to laughter at the display, and he finally says, “I think you should check this out if it’s bothering you this much. It’s better to talk about it than keep it bottled up,” MK says. “We’ll be here to support you!”

Red Son can't help but smile slightly. It does feel good to have people in his corner for once. But there's also the annoying feeling that he now has people he doesn't want hurt over something he started. And then there’s that underlying fear of what facing his parents would mean. He thinks for a moment. If he can’t go through with it, he can at least be honest with his new friends as to why.

“I haven’t actually spied on them for some time now… If I did - if I thought about them more - then that means I’d have to think about actually facing them. Explain why I’ve been away for so long. Talk about The Fire. I just, I’m not ready yet…” he says the last part in a sigh, like a puff of air letting out his insecurities.

“You know you’re probably having those dreams because you’re keeping yourself from thinking about it, right?” Mei says bluntly.

Red Son rolls his eyes and snaps back at her, “Yeah, I know!” His tone had a bit more annoyance than intended, but she didn’t seem bothered by it.

“You know, if you did face them, you wouldn’t have to do it alone. We’d be there for you,” MK says reassuringly.

“DBK is dangerous. I wouldn’t want you all to have to face him as well because…” Red Son again, looks nervously at MK and Mei.

"Because you CARE about us!" Mei says with a giant grin.

"Ugh!" Red Son rolls his eyes heavily, and throws his hands up. “Listen! I’m just not ready to deal with this yet! And not on a day when -” he finally looks at the clock and sees the time, “-when we have to be at work in a half an hour!”

MK also looks at the clock and makes a clicking noise with his tongue. He turns back to Red Son and looks him hard in the eyes. Red Son looks back somewhat pleadingly, though he’s unpracticed at a puppy-dog-eyes look, so it probably just looks strained and awkward.

MK finally nods. "We can respect that you need your time," MK says. "But we'll be here when and if you need us!"

Mei affirms with her own nod.

“Now let’s get ready for work!” MK exclaims, back to his usual boisterous self. He loops an arm around Red Son, who rolls his eyes, but doesn't protest the motion.

Yes, he'd wait a bit. But if he can resolve the issue with his parents, without bringing the others into it, he'd prefer that. He started it, so he'd end it.

Unfortunately, if there's anything that Red Son has learned it’s that things don't always go as planned.

- - -

Luckily, Red Son and MK make it to work on time and with little fanfare. Red Son is currently in the kitchen seasoning some noodles and broth. Pigsy is stirring up some noodles boiling in a large vat next to him. MK had just come back from a delivery and was waiting on the two of them to finish with the soup so he could bring the product to the appropriate customers. Mei and Tang are chatting with him at the counter, with Pigsy and Red Son throwing the occasional comment out to them from the kitchen area.

Red Son is in the middle of a minor tirade about the differences between various noodle types and the appropriate spices to go with them, when he is cut off mid-sentence by a low rumble and the room suddenly darkening around him.

In the next instant, columns of blue flames launch out of all the burners on the stovetop, bathing the entire kitchen and himself in a sapphire light. Somehow his friends are no longer there, but the dark void that had replaced them is then filled by the overwhelming booming voice of his father; a rage-filled yell echoes around the area. Red Son’s breath catches in his throat, and he freezes, unable to move, until a pressure appears on his shoulder and literally shakes him out of the state.

As quickly as they had appeared, the flames, the voice, and the darkness are all gone, replaced again, with the gentle warmness of the kitchen, and the worried faces of his friends. Red Son is finally able to suck in a breath, and he lurches forward, holding his chest and pulling in deep breaths. He is coached through it by Pigsy, who he now realizes is the owner of the hand on his shoulder. He focuses on the pressure there and on his voice, and it helps ground him. He looks over and notices that the Dragon Girl looks equally stressed out, hand to her chest, and looking almost in pain. MK has a hand over her shoulder and is looking nervously between both her and Red Son. After a few tense breaths, Pigsy worriedly asks, “You okay, kid? What happened?”

Red Son looks around confusedly and answers honestly, “I– I don’t know… I just - um–”

He catches Mei’s eyes, which are staring into his own with such intensity, as she clutches at MK for some stability. Red Son stares back for a moment, searching, and he practically feels her own searching gaze. Did you see the same thing? Red Son thinks hard, as if hoping she hears him, but his tongue feels glued to the roof of his mouth, so he doesn’t say it out loud. Mei doesn't respond, just keeps on looking at him intensely. His thoughts and practical staring contest with Mei are interrupted by a voice to his side.

“Maybe you should lay down?” Mr. Tang is there, too.

Red Son nods slowly in response. Still confused about what happened.

Pigsy hands him off to Tang, as he takes over the stove. MK seems hesitant to separate himself from Mei, but she nudges him encouragingly and he helps Tang with guiding Red Son into another room. Mei trails almost cautiously behind him. Or at least Red Son thinks she seems cautious, he’s still a little hazy. He is brought to a sofa and given a glass of water.

He drinks slowly, and it gives him time to think. What was that?! That had never happened before, and yet it felt familiar-

Something clicks into place.

He turns slowly to MK and Mei. MK is sitting next to him, and Mei had slung herself over the edge of the sofa, giving an air as if she was not bothered, nor ever was in the last few minutes. Maybe Red Son was wrong about the look she gave earlier. Tang hovers by the entrance to the room.

“I– I think I’d like a moment to myself,” he tells them.

“Sure thing,” MK says, giving him an extra pat on the shoulder. “Just call if you need anything.”

Red Son nods as they take their leave. Once they are out of the room, Red Son takes out his phone. No one had turned on a light in the room, and now that the door had closed it is much darker. The only light in the room is the eerie glow from the phone that illuminates his face. He’d turn on a light, but his thoughts are stuck on what had happened.

Whatever vision he had seen, felt a lot like the dreams of the Samadhi Fire he had been having. Like before, he is certain the dreams were just inner anxieties, and maybe that was just a hallucination - a sign he is falling further down the mental rabbit hole. But despite that being somewhat terrifying in itself, a part of him thinks maybe it is wishful thinking that it was just in his head, and not the even more terrifying alternative… That what he’s been seeing were true visions or premonitions, not merely dreams.

He quickly opens up his Bullbot app, takes a deep breath in, and checks in on his parents. What he sees confirms his fears. He sees his father, with blue flames wreathed around him. His eyes have a blue glow to them, and there are wisps of fire floating out of his mouth and nostrils. He can’t get sound on the bullbots without potentially clueing his parents into his spying, but he can see that his father is talking to his mother. The Demon Bull King doesn’t look crazed like he initially was when commanding The Fire. Instead, he seems to just be talking with Princess Iron Fan. He does seem angry, however; some of the fire is kicking up from beneath his hooves, and the two look to be having a heated discussion. Eventually Princess Iron Fan storms away, and Demon Bull King sits down in a huff on a large throne-like chair. He casts a look over to the bullbot that Red Son is commanding, starts breathing heavily, cool flames puffing out and being sucked back in through his teeth, before he yells angrily and the entire screen is covered in blue.

Red Son jumps in his seat and quickly exits the program.

He sits there in stunned silence for a moment, processing the information. His father still has the Samadhi Fire somehow. It is only a matter of time before they come looking for him, and potentially try to take their anger out on the Monkie Kid crew. If Red Son could somehow connect to The Fire and see visions about it, there is a possibility that they could find him through it as well, which would put a target on his friends.

Red Son sits there for a few minutes more mulling over what to do. He’s not sure how long he sits there, but it’s MK poking his head into the room, bringing a ray of light from the kitchen into the dark room, that stirs him into action. He stands up, suddenly.

“Oh, um, I was just about to come and see if you were okay…” he hears MK from behind.

Without looking at him, Red Son says, “I’m fine, but I think…” He pauses, then turns to his friend and says with an earnest expression, “I think I should go home and rest.”

MK raises his eyebrows. There’s an odd sort of glint in his eyes, but Red Son can’t tell if it’s just from the odd lighting of the dim room or something else. “At the boathouse..? Uh, sure.”

Red Son holds his phone tightly, and hopes that the Noodle Boy can’t see the tremble in his hands. He quickly skirts around him, voices some curt goodbyes, and takes his leave.

- - -

“Everything okay?” Mei asks MK, when she notices his worried expression as he watches Red Son leave the noodle shop.

“Oh, um, yeah…” MK’s voice trails off. Mei had given him a scare almost as much as Red Son earlier, but she had brushed it off and seems all right at the moment. He’d push her about it more later, but right now he had a more pressing question on his mind. “Hey, Mei,” he asks her, “Has Red Son ever called the boathouse ‘home’ before?”

She puts a finger up to her lips and hums in thought. “Hmm, no I don’t think so. Why? Did he just do that?”

“He said he was going ‘home.’”

“Awww, Red Boy really does care about us! He’s finally seeing Sandy’s boathouse as home, that’s super sweet! I’m definitely going to bring it up when he’s feeling less out of it, haha,” Mei says, all too eagerly. She hops happily onto a seat by the counter and starts talking to the others.

MK continues to look out the door where Red Son just left, with a nervous rumbling in his stomach, due to the fact that Mei didn’t quite catch onto what MK was getting at. He said he was going “home”. But the way that Red Son had left the shop was not in the direction of the boathouse…

start || <– previous // next –>

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk red son #red son #in need of refueling #lmk mei #lmk mk #monkie kid #fanfic #fanfiction #lmk fanfiction #my writing #jadethest0ne

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boowhumps · 2 years ago

Text

|WHUMPRIL 2023|

|Day 19 ~ Choking|

(@whumpril)

⚠TW⚠

- Mentions of Blood

- Mentions of Injuries

- Mentions of Torture

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

I laid on my bed, my body shaking as I muffle my sobs.

I had been crying for hours, alone. A part of me wishes someone would come, but the other part of me dreads the idea of someone seeing me cry.

So I just continue to cry, making sure to be as quiet as possible.

It seems I was doing good on that end, since no one had come by, that means no one can hear me-

Someone knocks on my door.

..Scratch that, I'm not as good as I think I am.. apparently..

"Hey Amne.. Can I come in.?" Silas asks.

Of course it's him. He always seems to know when I'm not okay..

I wipe my tears in a hurry and make myself presentable.

"Come in." I say, cringing at how hoarse my voice sounds.

Silas opens the door, his hands behind his back. "Hi." He says

"What.?" I mutter.

He smiles at me awkwardly before sitting on the bed next to me.

"I just wanted to check up on you.. you've been distant lately." He says.

"I'm fine just.. not feeling social." I say, hoping I sound convincing.

He sighs. "Amne, I know you. And while you aren't very social, you don't lock yourself up like this if you're fine."

I groan. "Really, I'm good-" I start, but Silas shakes his head.

"You're not okay. You've just been revived again after.. What she did.. and you're obviously not taking it well." He says.

I sigh. I guess he's right.

I don't know anyone who would be okay after getting their throat slit and almost die from choking on their own blood..

Or from being subject to a spontaneous revival.. (spoiler: it hurts like hell)

Or from being tortured mentally, physically, emotionally by some demon who really hates you for some reason..

Okay.. He really has a point..

But fuck that, I don't need comfort, I'm fine.

I glare at him. "Yeah, no normal person would be fine after something like that, thanks for pointing that out captain obviously." I reply with a snarky tone. "But like I said, I'm fine."

Silas takes a deep breath. "I'm.. here for you, you know?"

I stare at him in confusion.

He stares back. "If you ever want to talk, that is.." He says.

An awkward silence fills the room as we both sit there.

"I've been.. worried about you. I know that you're independent and all that.. but I can see that you're hurting." Silas mumbles.

He taps his hands on his knees.

"I uh.. got you something.." He says. "I was talking with Zaaron and he said that this.. always makes you feel better."

My ears perk up in curiosity. "What is it?" I ask.

Silas pulls his hands out from behind his back.

My eyes widen.

In his hands is my childhood stuffed animal, one of the few things I regretted leaving behind in the overworld.

I stutter. "H-How did you-"

"I took a quick trip to the overworld.. It was kinda hard to find but I eventually got it." Silas explains.

He holds it out to me and I grab it, holding it close against me.

My happiness turns to embarrassment as I see him staring at me. "You don't think I'm childish, right..?" I ask him.

He smiles. "Of course not, you're never too old for a comfort item."

I immediately hug Silas, burying my face into his shoulder.

He seems caught off guard at first, but he wastes no time in returning the hug.

"Thank you.." I mumble.

I hear Silas laugh a bit. "Anything for you."

#whump #whumpril #whump writing #day 19 done!!!#probably my last post for today #idk when ill catch up but we'll see #anyways a short one because im tired #hopefully it doesn't suck #enjoy <3

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babygirlbdubs · 2 years ago

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scarian 3 :eye emoji:

small / cut (x) (814 words)

----

“Grian--!”

“SCAR!!”

“I see him, he’s down here!”

“No! No, Scar! Do something, do something!”

. . .

It is a week ago. Scar is rifling through a chest in the ancient city while Bdubs keeps an eye out for shriekers.

“Are you almost done?” Bdubs hisses.

“Just a second, just a second!” Scar soothes.

A glance over his shoulder tells Scar that Bdubs is looking elsewhere, eyes flickering around in the dark. Good. Bdubs won’t see the way the soft blue flame of a soul torch reflects off of something metallic as Scar squirrels it away.

The chest creaks closed, a sensor clicking, but no scream follows. Phew.

“Anything good?”

“Nah. Just some soul torches and some skulk.”

It’s an easy lie. Technically, there’s nothing good about the item he swiped.

But who knows? Maybe it could come in handy anyway. A trap. A trick. Maybe even an escape.

. . .

Grian is panicking. Scar can feel it. He can barely hear his soulmate scream for him over the groans of the undead.

Their hearts race. Anxiety builds up into fear. Terror.

Scar knows Grian is feeling every bite. He knows Grian’s flesh is tearing right along with his.

“Do something, do something!”

. . .

It is a few hours ago. Scar’s consciousness floats in the darkness for a few moments before a voice pulls him back into awareness.

“Scar, do you-- do you wanna come out of the hole now?”

Grian. Grian’s back. Scar wonders how the pool party went. He lifts his hands to dig away some of the dirt.

“I like my cocoon,” he answers as Grian peers into the hole. “Hello.”

Scar’s voice is gentle. Tired. They’d run so far on just their feet, to the furthest corner of the map. Only a patch of sand and a single cactus to welcome them home.

How bittersweet.

Grian is smiling, though. He’s smiling, and that never fails to make Scar smile too. The ridiculousness of their situation sets in, however, and the smile across his face turns into a warm chuckle.

At least, until there’s a sharp pain in his skull, and blood rushes down his forehead.

Grian gasps as Scar reaches up with a wince, his hand clutching at the fresh wound.

“Hey, hey! What was that!?”

He can feel Grian’s immediate regret as they both frantically scramble for food.

“It was a prank that nearly killed us,” Grian answers, face pale as his own blood drips down his temple. “Oh my-- I am so sorry.”

Scar is staring at him as he tears a piece of bread from a loaf with his teeth. Grian clambers to the furnace, quickly cooking some mutton.

It’s okay. I’ll heal us.

The bread tastes like cotton in Scar’s mouth. Dry. Filling his mouth with fluff that is far too difficult to swallow. He doesn’t offer any to his soulmate.

“You put dripstone over my little cocoon?”

“Y-Ki-- Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

It doesn’t matter how genuine Grian sounds. Something in Scar snaps. For everything Scar has done to keep Grian alive, this is how Grian treats him?

We’re connected, you know. I can hurt you as much as you hurt me.

Grian treats their life as a game.

Something golden weighs heavy in Scar’s pocket.

He laughs as Grian tears him away from the cactus. It’s satisfaction enough for now, dry bread sticking to his tongue once more as Grian stares in disbelief.

“We are a team, remember? Like it or not, we are a team.”

I remember. How could I forget?

Scar wipes the blood from his eyes with a rag. In spite of the bitterness churning in his gut, the item remains tucked away. Something in him screams to stay. To hold Grian close. To kiss his knuckles and pray that he remembers the desert.

. . .

“Scar! Do something, do something!”

Scar’s mind is racing. Grian’s fear is overwhelming. He barely feels the way countless teeth sink into his flesh. Arms. Chest. Back. He knows Grian feels it all.

Do something.

Scar is doomed. And if he dies, so does Grian.

Scar is doomed.

Grian doesn’t have to be.

. . .

It is that moment-- that endless, expansive moment. Scar remembers what they’d been told at the start.

These will de-sync your bond. Do not use them under any circumstances.

His fingers grip tightly around it anyway. He struggles against the onslaught, no time to waste on hesitation. They’re dying. He can’t be the reason Grian dies. Not again. He still remembers the desert.

It is brought to his lips. A bitter kiss.

He swears, the first bite into the apple sounds like a thread being cut.

“SCAR NO!!”

The golden ichor doesn’t keep him alive for long.

. . .

Do something.

His body feels heavy.

Do something.

The sheets are rough against his back.

Do something.

And his soul feels… alone.

sssssnip!

Empty.

#spooky.writing #spooky.asks #scarian #trafficshipping #dlsmp #desertduo #scar #grian #fic #so uh.... sorry about the angst...#i almost did hurt/comfort but uh. i've had this idea for a while and. yeah :)#enjoy! haha... hah... ow.

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0cto0tter · 3 years ago

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Ok,here me out

As we all know,most ppl ship peso with kwazii

And most ppl ship peso with Barnacles...

And most ppl ship kwazii with Barnacles...

What if...Barnacles x kwazii x peso

The leader

The chaotic

And the one who deals with eveyone shit.

Y E S

This one is going to be a bit longer, as well as more chaotic ^^

Tw/Cw for light swearing

•─────✦─────•

Peso, having a panic attack: nononono this is bad this is very bad-

Barnacles trying to comfort him: No worries, everything will be ok! We'll find who did this, and make sure they don't do it again

Kwazii, who is also trying to comfort him: I'LL FIND THAT BASTARD AND MAKE SURE THEY LEARN THEIR LESSON!!! YAAAA-

Barnacles: Kwazii-

Kwazii: ahem, I mean...

Kwazii: I'll track him down and give 'em a stern talking to...

Kwazii, under his breath: then give them what for for making you cry-

─────────────────────

Barnacles: Why do you always let me win wherever we race up stairs? Normally you're always up for a challenge, and prepared to win?

Kwazii: It's... nice to see you smile when you win! Yeah that's it-

Barnacles: aww, that's nice

*later*

Barnacles: He's probably doing it to stare at my ass, isn't he-

Peso: Probably, I through you'd figure it out sooner

─────────────────────

Barnacles to Peso (before he joined the Octonauts): Would you like to stay for dinner?

Kwazii from the other room: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER!?

─────────────────────

Peso: *gasp* You have a crush on Captain!!

Kwazii: What?? I don't have a crush on him! I think their work is amazing and that they are a great person. It's not like I lost sleep thinking about him...

*later that night*

Kwazii, who is still awake at 2am: 0 - 0; uh oh-

─────────────────────

Kwazii: Barnacles has no idea that I found the catnip >:3

Barnacles, concerned: You found what!?

Kawaii: Oh, my bad

Kwazii, leaning over to whisper to Peso: Barnacles has no idea I found the catnip >:3

─────────────────────

Kwazii, trying to impress Barnacles and Peso: I re-initialized the entire command structure, retaining all of the programmed abilities it had before, but deleting the supplementary preference architecture

Tweak: I-

Tweak: He turned it off and back on again, I DON'T UNDERSTAND HALF OF WHAT YOU JUST SAID-

─────────────────────

Barnacles, who has no idea whats happening and is just playing along: Um, welcome to Applebee's! Would you like... apples... or... bees???

Peso, confused: Wait, BEES??

Kwazii, from the other room: HE HAS SELECTED THE BEES!!!

Barnacles and Peso: Wait what-

Kwazii: *runs into the room with a jar full of aggressive looming bees*

Peso: *stands behind Barnacles*

Barnacles, who is still confused: Kwazii-

─────────────────────

Peso: So, I'm not allowing Kwazii to take the trash out anymore...

Barnacles: Is he ok? Did he managed to get hurt?

Peso: A little, yes, but I've caught him trying to train sea urchins how to fight several time in a row, and got jabbed a few times

Barnacles: What-

Kwazii walking in with his hands bandaged: You'll be thanking me when Urchin Patrol Squadron 5 protects the Octopod-

─────────────────────

Peso: due to person reasons, I will be sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a fair sized metal box

Kwazii: did Barnacles say "I love you" and you said "thanks" again by mistake?

Peso: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL-

─────────────────────

Dashi: I bet you can't hold 15 crayons in your mouth!

Kwazii: I bet I can!! Watch!!

Peso: *spits his drink, checks to make sure he has all him medical equipment ready, makes sure 911 is on speed dial, and texts the group chat letting everyone know what's about to happen*

Barnacles reading the message: Not again-

Shellington, concerned: ... a- again??

─────────────────────

Peso, bandaging Barnacles hand: Why did you think that was a good idea? More over, why didn't you ask for help??

Barnacles: I didn't want to bother any of you while you were busy-

Kwazii, who is visibly vibrating: YOU ALMOST DROWNED AGAIN WHILE STUCK IN A SHIP!!

─────────────────────

Peso: No worries, I have a few scalpels up my sleeve

Barnacles: I think you mean cards...

Peso, pulling several wrapped scalpels from his sleeves: I do not

Kwazii, who is more than proud: ⊙∇⊙

─────────────────────

Peso: If I say I love you, will you say it back?

Barnacles: Yes

Peso: I love you

Barnacles: It back

Barnacles: *instantly realizes what he just said*

Peso: 0 - 0

*a few minutes later*

Kwazii: Why is Peso crying face down on the floor, and why is Dashi laughing on the floor?

Barnacles, shaking: I said the wrong thing-

─────────────────────

Barnacles: Well Peso, whenever I'm about to do something that might be risky or dangerous I simply think, "would Kwazii do that?" and if they would, there is a 50/50 chance I would do that think

Peso: Captain-

Kwazii from across the room: He's not wrong!

─────────────────────

Barnacles making hot coco: Kwazii, Peso, what would you like in you're coco?

Peso: Peppermint, if there is any ^^

Kwazii: Cinnamon. All the cinnamon. Drown the drink in it >:3

Kwazii, not even a minute later: *coughing his lungs out because of the amount of cinnamon in his drink*

Barnacles: ...

Peso: ...

Barnacles: Well we did warn him-

Peso: Kwazii are you ok-

─────────────────────

Tweak, inspecting and repairing the Gup A: So, how did the chair break off again...?

Barnacles: Um, well...

*flashback to Kwazii suddenly jumping on him, causing them to fall back and accidently break the chair*

Barnacles: The Gup crashed and the seat came loose-

─────────────────────

Kwazii: Peso just ran up to me and handed me this small rock, and then ran away...

Barnacles: Give him a rock in return, trust me

*a few hours later*

Kwazii: *runs into the med bay with a nice looking rock*

Kwazii: HEREYOUGOHAVEANICEDAYPESO!!

*runs out again*

Peso, who is flustered beyond words: *verbally keyboard smashes*

─────────────────────

Barnacles: *is asleep*

Peso: *is also asleep, but in a different room*

Kwazii, who is still awake: idea...

*goes to grab Peso and bring him to where Barnacles is*

Kwazii: Sleep pile >:)

*the next morning*

Barnacles and Peso: *visible confusion but acceptance*

Kwazii: >:3

•─────✦─────•

You can tell I stated to run out of ideas half way through ^^;

Requests/Asks are still open :)

#octonauts #captain barnacles #kwazii #peso #peso penguin #Barnacles/Kwazii/Peso #Octonauts Barnacles #octonauts kwazii #octonauts peso #shellington #dashi #tweak #incorrect octonauts quotes #ship #poly ship

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studiojeon · 3 years ago

Text

bitterness in goodbye | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)

| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-

contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.

author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕

words: 1.57k

playlist: honey by halsey

Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence.

As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.

Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.

Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.

Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”

Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.

Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light.

Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.

You text Chaeryeong instead.

“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.

chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.

chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”

You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).

You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.

Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”

Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.

“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.

You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with.

And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.

“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”

After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.

You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband. you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t. which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more. He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue. Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him? A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable. I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up. But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman. It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend. Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all. He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment. He loved it, but he hated it, too.

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight. At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again. As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation. “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone. But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times. “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months. And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that. He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not. This was something else entirely. "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start. In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what. “And he… he knows that you… want that? I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?” He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way. "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating. It doesn't even work. He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something. And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal. Do you know how often people talk about sex? It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes. Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night? Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’? Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again. “It's been so long since somebody touched me. I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional. "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted. “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me. I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying. “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow. His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners. It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head. He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little. And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants. He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud. He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation. You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you. Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough. After all, you had asked him to give you everything. So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking. He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration. Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle. He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.” Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it. It was just too good to be true. So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again. Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that. Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him? He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it. "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him. It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place. That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.” And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on. “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh? You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly. “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin. "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly. The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially. Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true. He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly. “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally. He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way. so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore. When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip. You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh. The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster. He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover. For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be. He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it. He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment. Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily. Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then. "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come. It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it. But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently. You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest. He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away. When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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rowyn-writes · 4 years ago

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A Mother's Love Part Two

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, major angst, implications of depression

Pairings: Dean x Wife!Reader

Characters: Dean, Jack, Sam, Reader, Cas (Mentioned only)

Word count: 3k

You sat on the couch of your childhood home, staring blankly at the T.V. Your knees were pulled up to your chin as you had your arms wrapped around your legs. It had been three weeks since you left the bunker, and you felt empty inside.

Your mother sat beside you, a cup of tea and honey in her hand and a concerned look on her face. "Darling, you have to eat something. I know you haven't been feeling well, but you still need to stay healthy." You didn't respond to her as she set the cup of tea in your hands.

Everything felt numb. It was like you didn't feel any emotions at all. The world felt dull. Like all color had been stripped and it left you in darkness.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" She asked softly. Even though you had been with your parents for almost a month now, you had never fully discussed what happened with Dean.

"Mom, please-"

"No, Y/N." She put her foot down. "You call me one day, clearly upset saying that you and Jack were going to stay here for a while. You get here and you don't look like the daughter that I knew. You've changed."

You scoffed at your mother's words. "I'm getting a divorce, of course I've changed."

She sucked in a breath of air. "Y/N. What happened?" You gave your mother a brief rundown of what happened with you, Dean and Jack. "Oh, honey." She sympathized. "I am so sorry. You know that you and Jack are welcomed to stay as long as you like. I know your father is excited to have a grandchild."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up to your mother. "What?"

"Jack, of course." She explained. "Look at them. Your dad's so happy. It's about time you give us a grandson."

"Lord knows you couldn't count on Chris for that." You rolled your eyes. "He can't keep a girl to save his life." Your smile began to fade slightly as your stomach did flips. Your mom noticed your green complexion and ran to grab a trash can. It was nearly too late as you felt your dinner from last night coming back up. She held your hair back as you did so, calling for your dad to get a wet washcloth.

You felt a cold cloth across your forehead, cooling your body. "Mom!" Jack said worriedly. "Are you okay?.

"She's okay, kiddo." Your dad assured him. "She's just not feeling too well." He mumbled skeptically.

You sat back against the couch, holding the rag to your head. "Jack," Your mom called. "Why don't you and I go make some cookies?"

Jack smiled at the idea, looking to you for approval. "You don't have to ask me, sweetheart. Go have fun."

You mother dipped down to whisper something unintelligible in your dad's ear before going to the kitchen.

"Y/N," He shook his head. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Because I don't want it to be real." You muttered. "I don't want to think about the last thing that Dean said to me or the look on his face. I want to wake up and for this whole thing to be a dream. But I know it's not. I won't wake up next to him tomorrow and I don't get to tell him how much I love him." You chocked on a sob, covering you mouth with your hand so Jack wouldn't hear.

"Oh, my sweet girl." Your dad said softly, pulling you into his side. "I am so sorry, my darlin'." You rested your head on his shoulder as tears slipped down your cheeks. "That's not it, though. Is it? There's something else."

"Papa, I think I'm pregnant." You confessed. "I'm late and I've been sick all week."

"Have you taken a test yet?" He asked. You shook your head. "Okay, I'll tell you what. I'll go by the drug store and get a couple of tests, just to be sure, and I'll grab you some food on the way home. How does that sound?"

"Great." You said with a small smile. He kissed the top of your head before grabbing the keys and heading out of the house.

---

Five.

Five tests that had come back positive. Each one that you looked at made your heart sink more and more. "Oh god." You whimpered. "Damnit."

"What does it say, sweetie?" Your mother questioned from the other side of the door. You slowly opened it up and showed her the positive pregnancy test.

"Are they all positive?" You nodded.

"What am I gonna do?"

"I think you should call Dean-"

"No." You said firmly. "I'm not calling Dean. He made it very obvious that he didn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"Y/N," Your mother spoke firmly. "I'm not justifying what Dean said or did in the moment, however, he was just as hurt as you were because you were leaving with Jack and you didn't know how long you would be gone. I really think you should call him. I think he would want to know you're pregnant with his baby."

You sighed at her words. You knew she had a point. She was your mother, she's always right. "What if he doesn't care?" You whispered. "What if he hears my voice and hands up on me?"

"Then that's his loss, honey." She cooed. "The least you can do is try."

---

MEANWHILE, AT THE BUNKER;

"Dean." Sam shook his brother. "Dean. C'mon dude, wake up."

Dean groaned as his eyes peeled open. "What?" He grumbled.

"You've been sleeping in here all night." Sam said, crossing his arms. "You should probably get some rest in your own bed, or at the very least, the couch. And charge your phone while you're at it, it's dead."

Dean stretched add he looked at the empty whiskey bottle set on the table and the picture of your wedding day beside it. It had been a rough few weeks since you had left. "You know I can't go sleep in that damn bed." He growled.

"Dean, I offered to switch rooms with you-"

"I don't want to switch rooms!" He snapped. "I want my wife back."

Sam frowned as he looked at his brother. He looked awful. He hasn't shaven in weeks, his hair's a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Why don't you call her, Dean?"

"Because, after what I said, she'll never take me back. I was too harsh on her. Plus my phone is broken."

"One, you have ten phones, and two, yeah, you were a complete ass." Sam agreed. "You should have seen her when she left here. I had never seen anyone so. . . Broken before. You know they sparkle she had in her eyes?" Dean nodded. "It was gone. Her entire face seemed dull, almost like she had aged ten years."

Dean put his head in his hands, feeling defeated. "What have I done?"

"I don't know, but you had better make it right."

---

"Still no answer?" Your father asked. You had called Dean three times now and still no answer.

"Nope. Not a sound."

"I'm sorry honey," Your mother sympathized, rubbing your back. It's that anything we can do?"

"Yeah," You nodded. "I need space. I need to spend more time with Jack before the baby comes. I just want to know what it's like to be a mother."

"Of course." Your dad agreed. "Take the keys to the cabin in Colorado. I know that's a lot of good memories there and no pesky neighbors to worry about "

"Thanks, dad." You smiled. "We'll be outta here soon."

"You don't have to leave in a rush, kiddo. You know that we love having you here."

"I know."

---

"Why are we going to your parents cabin in Colorado?" Jack asked curiously as he peered out the window.

"Uh," You bit your lip as you tried to come up with a suitable lie to tell Jack. You hated how much you were lying to Jack lately, but you knew that he wouldn't understand the things that you were going through. "I just wanted to show you the place and stay up there for a little while. It's nice and quiet, you'll love it. It's cold up there and it's snowy in the winter. I used to go sledding all the time when I was younger and then my parents would call me in for hot chocolate and a movie. We can do that together. How does that sound, Jack?"

"It sounds great, Mom!" He smiled goofily. Every time he called you 'Mom,' your heart melted. You loved that Jack felt so comfortable around you to call you his mother. You knew that you would never be able to replace Kelly, and you would never want to, but you did want to make him feel safe and loved. You wanted Jack to know what a mother's love feels like. Jack blamed himself for the death of his mother, and you understood his grief, but you had told him time and time again that it wasn't his fault. Kelly wanted to go through with the pregnancy and refused to listen to anyone else's opinions on the matter. You just wished he understood that.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek, quickly wiping it away. "What's wrong, Mom?" Jack questioned. "Is it about Dean?"

You glanced over at Jack in surprise. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, Sam and Dean aren't here, and Dean hasn't called you to check up on you since we left. I know that whenever you go on a hunt by yourself, Dean calls you everyday to make sure you're okay."

You sighed heavily as you looked at the road in front of you. "Dean and I are. . . Going through a tough time right now. That's why I wanted to get away for a while. And I didn't want to go by myself, so that's why I wanted you to come with me."

"Are we ever going back to the bunker?"

"I don't know. . . It's a difficult situation, Jack. Right now, I don't think that I will be going back home anytime soon. But if you want to go back, I'll take you back. I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"I want to stay with you." He said firmly. "But I also want you to be happy. You don't look happy anymore. You don't smile or laugh the way you used to. You sit on the couch watching reruns of Friends, and I've heard you crying at night. Sometimes I think you forget that I don't sleep very much."

You said nothing in response, knowing that Jack was right. You wanted to call Dean one more time, but you knew it was fruitless. He wasn't going to answer. But you did have Sam. When you finally arrived at the cabin, you sent Jack to unpack while you dialed Sam's number. After three rings, he finally picked up.

"Hello, Y/N? Are you okay? How's Jack?" He asked in one breath.

"Hey, Sammy. I'm fine, and so is Jack. I just wanted to call and make sure that you haven't gotten killed by anything."

"Nope, we're still alive." He gave a small chuckle. "How are you, Y/N, really? Don't lie to me, because I know when you're lying."

"I miss him." You sniffed. "Being away from him hurts me." Your voice cracked, forcing you to clear your throat. "We've been married for five years. And I know that to the average person that doesn't seem like a long time, but we're hunters, Sam. You know how hard it is to stay in a relationship in our line of work. I've been in love with him for half my life, and now, for us to be in this situation, it sucks, Sam. I can't think of any other word to describe it. It really fucking sucks."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he listened to you cry. "I'm sorry this is happening, Y/N. I never thought that this would happen to you and Dean. But I've known Dean my whole life, and I've known you since we were twenty, so I think that I'm entitled to make a judgement on this." You let out a small laugh. "You two have been in love longer than you've been together, but both of you have been to dumb to realize it. You argue like cats and dogs because you're so certain about what you believe in. You're both so passionate about things that you never let up. And now that you're finally together, you have been so happy. Dean has never felt this way about anyone that he's been with, male or female. He loves you so much, Y/N, that it kills him. You have both come too far to for things to end like this. I'm going to tell you the exact same thing I told Dean; fix this."

"I want to, Sammy, I just don't know how."

"Stop hiding, for one. You can't fix something when you're hundreds of miles away." You groaned as you felt a wave of nausea was over you. "Y/N?" You quickly made your way to the bathroom. "Y/N? What's going on? Are you okay?"

You leaned against the wall once you were done throwing up. "Yeah, yeah, Sam, I'm okay."

"What was that about, then?" Sam questioned. When you didn't answer, he began putting the pieces together himself. "You're pregnant."

"SHH!" You hissed. "Don't say that!"

"Why not? Because you don't want Dean to know?" He spoke coldly.

"Sam, please, don't say anything."

"How long have you known, Y/N? And how long do you plan on keeping this from Dean?"

You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I've known for a couple of days, okay? And I don't know when or how I'm going to tell Dean. He made it very clear that he didn't want anything to do with me the last time we talked. Besides, I tried to call him and he didn't answer my calls, so don't try to pin me off as the bad guy here."

"When did you try to call him?" The hard edge in Sam's voice disappeared.

"Three days ago, when I found out I was pregnant."

You could hear Sam let out a small laugh. "Three days ago I came in the kitchen to find Dean passed out on the table, hung over as hell and holding on to the picture of your wedding day. And beside him was his broken phone. His main phone, which I'm assuming is the one that you called?"

"Yeah. . ." You said meekly.

"Hang up and call his second phone. Please, will you do that for me?"

"Yes," You nodded, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I love you, Y/N/N."

"I love you too, Sammy." You sighed as you hung up the phone. You were terrified to call Dean. You hadn't spoken to him since that night all those weeks ago. You were still hurt, and you knew that Dean was hurting as well, and all you wanted was to hear his voice. You took a deep breath as you dialed his second phone number.

It rang five times before going to voicemail, making your heart sink. Not a minute later, the number called back. "Hello?"

"Y/N." Dean's voice said gruffly. "Sam told me you were going to call."

"Did. . . Did he tell you anything else?" You asked.

"Just that I needed to talk to you. What's going on?"

"I miss you," You confessed. You needed to tell Dean everything, and that included telling him how you felt. "I hate the way things ended between us, and I know that it wasn't solely on you or me. But I love you, Dean, and I will never stop loving you. And I know it's unfair I left and this is how I'm trying to get you back; over the phone. I would much rather be doing this in person. But I love you, Dean, and I always will. No matter what you say or do, I love you."

You could hear Dean struggling to breathe correctly. "Where are you?"

"My parents cabin, wh-"

"I'll be tomorrow morning." And with that, he hung up.

---

You paced back and forth in the living room, biting your nails. Dean didn't say what time he was going to be here, but he just said that he would be here in the morning. You had stayed up all night thinking about him. About the way his hair fell into his face after a shower, and how he always smelled like whiskey and firewood. The way his eyes would crinkle at the edges whenever he laughed, really laughed. But your favorite thing was when you had just finished a hunt, and you would go to lie down in bed, Dean would pull you close to him and whisper how much he loves you.

A sharp knock at the door snapped you out of your trance. "Who is it, Mom?" Jack asked, peering around the corner.

"Why don't you come see, kiddo." You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans before opening the door to reveal Sam and Dean. "Hi," You smiled. Sam was the first to come inside and hug you. He grinned as he pulled away, ruffling your hair.

"Why don't I take Jack into town for a little bit while you guys work this out?" He suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. Jack, go put on your shoes, you're going into town with Sam for a little while." Jack beamed at your works, hurriedly putting his shoes on a following Sam out the door.

"Hi," You said once more after Sam and Jack were gone. Dean didn't say a word as he hugged you tightly. You melted into his touch, feeling comfort in his embrace. The familiar smell of whiskey and firewood filled your nostrils. You closed your eyes to savor this moment. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

taglist:

@vicariouslythruspn @mimaria420 @fofisstilinski @daphnen21 @katwed @anunstablefangirl @desimarie12 @alderpine @rebeccaitsnotwhatyouthink @akshi8278

Also, yes, there will be a part 3

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #Sam Winchester #jack kline imagine #Jack Kline #jack imagine #supernatural #Supernatual #Supernatural angst #supernatural imagine #supernatural fluff #supernatural x reader

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joaquinwhorres · 4 years ago

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Stitches & Blankets (Joaquin Torres x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› You find Joaquin Torres after he tries to stop the bank robbery.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› language

A/N ››››› OK, why are there not more Torres fics? I'm legitimately confused about that. Also, I realized after writing half of this down, that a bank was robbed, so there were probably still police on the scene and the reader'd probably be speaking Swiss-German but uh...fan fiction.

There was a body in the street, which was not what you expected to see coming out to your car.

You'd heard the wailing sirens and shouting and the thunderous footsteps--they're what kept you pressed against the side of the building for the past ten minutes, avoiding the chaos as much as possible. It wasn't fear that kept you there though, it was experience. You'd become used to the quick riots and little skirmishes for resources over the past few months. You knew it was better to stay out of the way, wait out the storm, and then go about your life. They became nothing more than minor nuisances. Bits of unrest that were there and then gone in the next instance. They weren't supposed to leave a body behind.

"Meine Fresse," you murmured, racing forward to the person lying supine on the stones, arms out to their sides, the white of their sneakers reflecting the street lights. As you drew closer, you saw it was a man--about your age with blood around his eye and nose and lip. For a brief second, you wondered if he'd been trampled, but he definitely would have looked worse for wear based on how many people you'd heard.

"Bist du okay?" Your voice was loud as you checked over the rest of his body. He didn't seem to have any other injury, and there wasn't any blood under his head, so you decided it was safe enough to gently shake him.

He didn't rouse.

So, instead you knelt your ear down to his lips, laying your hand flat on his chest. You felt your hand rise before you heard the slow intake of breath, and you rocked back onto your knees. He was breathing. He was alive.

Still, something gnawed at the back of your mind, urging your fingers up under his jaw, gently pressing into his neck. It was only then that you felt a surge of relief. His pulse was there, and it was strong. He was really alive.

And then you remembered that you should probably call 112.

All things considered, it was a quick phone call--the operator seemed to know your exact location and vaguely what had happened as you explained where you were and how you found him. Instead, most of the conversation was spent listening to their instructions to roll him into a recovery position and check for any signs of life-threatening injuries. When they told you that you could hang up because they were close, you did so and found the man blinking at you.

"Hoi," you greeted soothingly. "Wie heisst du?"

He groaned, attempting to roll onto his back once more. You reached out a hand stopping him, and he looked up at you confused.

"Comment t'appelles tu?" You attempted, hoping he wasn't an Italian or Romansch speaker. You hardly knew enough of either language to tell him you couldn't speak it.

He winced and lifted his hand to his face. "Shit."

English. Good.

"What's your name?" you asked, and his eyes seemed to focus on you once more, this time a spark of recognition or maybe just awareness lighting up behind them.

"Joaquin," he informed, and you released an arm, allowing him to finally roll onto his back like he wanted. He had a strong American accent, even through the gravelly voice of barely regained consciousness. "Did they get away?"

"Ähm," you looked around at the empty street. "Yes?" you guessed.

He let out a heavy sigh. "I'm gonna have to call some people."

"I think you should wait for the ambulance."

"Yeah," he agreed, the word breathy and pained. "That's probably a good idea."

"What happened?" you asked, and he raised his eyebrows, looking back at you.

"Flag Smashers."

"I didn't think the Flag Smashers hurt people."

"I'm just lucky, I guess," he answered, and you smiled, letting out a small laugh. He offered a small smile as well.

You could hear the siren now, the faint sound winding its way through the curving streets of Zürich and towards the two of you. Your head turned towards the sound, as if you could trace it back to the ambulance, and gauging the distance. "They should be close," you said, returning your attention to Joaquin.

"What's your name?" he asked, and the question surprised you. Then again, if the two of you were stuck waiting for an ambulance at nine o'clock on a Sunday night, maybe a bit of small talk shouldn't have been so surprising.

"Y/N," you answered, and he repeated it.

"You're very pretty, Y/N."

The laugh escaped you on instinct, although to call it a laugh might not be the best descriptor. It was more of a surprised noise, partially exhale and a tinge of amusement added through the slight smile at the corner of your mouth.

"Thank you," you said. "You are very pretty too."

And he was, underneath the dark red and rapidly purpling injuries. He had a strong jaw and kind eyes, and even the hint of a smile he'd given earlier had made something in your chest constrict.

"I don't feel so pretty," he responded, and this time your laugh was more of a laugh, and he reached up to feel at his face. You took hold of his hand, bringing it back down and trapping it in yours.

"Pretty enough for me to hold your hand," you joked, hoping to distract him from continuing to poke and prod and break all of the rules and instructions the EMTs had given over the phone.

"Well, I got that goin' for me, I guess," he said, letting his hand relax into yours.

Headlights bathed you in a warm yellow light as flashing blue lights bounced off the surrounding buildings, illuminating the rest of the street.

There were some shouts as the doors of the ambulance opened and people poured out, running towards you and Torres. The paramedic crowded around quickly, a blonde bearded man asking quick questions in German.

"Er spricht Englisch," you explained, and he nodded, switching languages.

It became apparent as police officers pulled up and flooded out of their cars that you were no longer needed. You stood up, backing away and letting Joaquin's hand slip through yours.

"You're not going to stay and hold my hand?" Joaquin called out to you, and you let a smile curl across your lips. Around you, people were starting to come out onto the street, lured by the sounds of the sirens and lack of shouting and general ruckus. Your eyes fell back on Joaquin who was still looking up at you, even as a paramedic flashed a light into his face.

"Maybe he can hold your hand," you said, gesturing to a paramedic who had slid into your place. Joaquin gave half a smile as you turned and left him in the hands of the professionals.

As you rounded the corner, arms full of blankets, the last person you expected to almost run into was Joaquin.

Part of the surprise was the kind that generally accompanied running into someone outside of the context you know them in. A larger part of the surprise was the fact that he was not in the hospital.

Instead, he stood before you, face swollen, bloodied and bruised, with the small white bandages of butterfly stitches above his right eye. He blinked at you, as if he was caught in the headlights.

"Pretty Joaquin," you said, surprise ringing through every part of your voice.

"Y/N."

At least his memory wasn't affected by whatever the Flag Smashers had done to him. His response time was also quicker than it had been two and a half hours ago, and he seemed all in all more present and less hazy. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here." Your own surprise and mild confusion had not quite worn off. "What are you doing here?"

For a variety of reasons, he was not the typical person who stumbled into the Zürich GRC Refugee Camp. He was both too young and too old and far more put together than a normal incomer. He didn't have that haunted look behind his eyes that made your heart wrench. He looked battered and bruised but ok.

"I need a place to stay."

Your eyes ran over his form, from his fluffy dark hair and banged up face to his bright white trainers. You lifted an eyebrow. "The hospital wouldn't take you?"

He shook his head with a sheepish grin. "It's just a broken orbital. Not much else they can do for it." Your eyebrows didn't lower and he gave half a laugh. "Trust me I'm as shocked as you are."

"I'll need you to fill out some paperwork."

He winced. "Any way that could wait until tomorrow? My head is killing me."

You stared intently at his face. Over the past four months of working at the GRC camp, you'd gotten good at reading people. You had an eye for knowing who was going to be trouble down the line and who would need some extra comfort and care. You knew who to push about their stories, and who to wait for--to be there as they slowly unraveled their tale.

So while there was a lot about pretty boy Joaquin that just didn't add up, you could see in his eyes that he could be trusted to stay the night. Just not here.

"You can't stay here without going through intake," you shook your head. "But if you really need a place to sleep, you can come with me."

"Really?" Joaquin asked, turning to follow you as you set back off towards your car, and you nodded.

"It's nothing special--just my couch. But I've been told it's very comfy."

Joaquin faltered a step, slowing down. "You're sure you want me coming and bloody-ing up your couch? I could just stay here and leave before--"

"I'll put down some papers," you said jokingly in an attempt to cut off the subject of him staying at the camp.

"Ok," he said, his voice distracted before there was a quick shuffle of footsteps and he caught back up with you. "Ok, thanks."

The two of you arrived at your car shortly thereafter, Joaquin moving to sit in the passenger seat as you dumped the blankets in the car. You came around to slip into the driver's seat, quickly backing out of the spot and setting off back home.

"So what's with all the blankets?" he asked, pulling his attention from the streets and buildings and back to you.

"We got a late donation tonight," you answered, flicking on your turn signal. "They needed someone here to help organize the drop off and then our washing machine broke, so I have to take work home with me." You smiled at the joke, but he just nodded, leaving you to wonder if maybe your English was off. The next few moments passed in quiet before you checked over at a traffic light to see if he was still awake. He was, but he looked dazed. Maybe he had been telling the truth about his head. You eyed his injuries which looked even worse in the red light. Like his entire right side of his face had been smashed.

"So what brought you to Switzerland?"

It wasn't the question you wanted to ask. You wanted to ask him what had happened with the Flag Smashers--why had they beaten him up so badly. But you weren't sure you were ready for that answer or if he'd even give it. So you asked a question you didn't care if he lied to you about.

"I was looking for someone," he said, and the light turned green, causing you to turn away and focus on your driving rather than him. Still the sentence seemed to end earlier than his thought as you could feel the weight of more words hovering between you. It was a familiar pressure in your ears and your chest, and you'd long grown accustomed to the discomfort.

Like many, Joaquin didn't give the thought words to escape on.

"A refugee?" you asked, and he wobbled his head.

"Yes and no. She survived the Snap."

"She?" A small feeling like a tight wire cord wound its way around your chest and a warmth of embarrassment flooded the back of your neck. "Your sister? Your wife?"

"No," he shook his head. "My grandmother."

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him look at you for the first time.

"What's her name? If she came to the camp I should know her."

"Mariana Torres," he answered, and you ran through the array of faces you'd met. There was a Mariana Böschl , but she was old enough to be his mother, not his grandmother.

You shook your head slowly. "I can check the registry tomorrow, but I don't think she's with us."

"Thanks," Joaquin said, looking back out the window at the passing city. "Were you Blipped?"

"No," you shook your head, pulling into your designated parking spot by your apartment. "I was lucky." The two of you climbed out of the car, and he met you by the trunk, pulling the blankets out before you could reach for them.

"Thank you," you said. And he gave a small grin.

"Thanks for letting me stay with you."

You gestured with your head up the stairs, heading to your third floor apartment.

Joaquin trailed behind you, arms laden with the blankets, waiting patiently as you stopped and opened the door. "Welcome to my home," you greeted, allowing him to enter before you. Your small apartment was dark, and you flicked on the light so that Joaquin could walk further inside without running into a wall or your table. "You can put the blankets by the couch, I'll wash them tomorrow," you instructed, and he did as you suggested before wandering over to the couch.

"I think I have an extra pillow in the closet," you said.

"Great," he thanked, dropping down onto the couch.

It took a few minutes to find the pillow and put a pillowcase on top of it. By the time you walked back out to the living room, the light was still on, and so were his shoes, but he was passed out. You walked over to the sleeping boy, placing the pillow down next to the couch in case he woke up and pulling the blanket over his body, your eyes once more tracing over his injuries.

You would have to speak to Karli about the violence.

#joaquin torres x reader #torres x reader #joaquín torres x reader #joaquin torres #joaquín torres #lieutenant torres #lieutenant torres x reader #fatws #tfatws

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popes-jj · 3 years ago

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Paradise on Earth - Pogues x Routledge!OC PART 2

Summary: The twins have a meeting.

Pairings: Pogues x OC + some JJ x OC, (rafe x oc later)

Warnings: swearing and drugs? Some mentions of sexual activity. I think that's it

Part 1

MASTERLIST

Cassie woke up to the sound of John B falling out of bed. She groaned as she lifted her head off the comfort of her soft pillow. She stood up and pulled on the first pieces of clothing she found slung over a chair in the corner of her room. She opened her bedroom door and took a step out, getting nice view of JJ grinding up on some girl she didn't fully recognise, John B walked out and saw Cassie, he poked his head around and chuckled at the sight.

"Hey! C'mon, man, get out of here!" JJ threw something at the door, John B closed it and laughed.

He faced Cassie with a big smile upon his face. "Don't worry, Cass, one day you'll get laid too."

"Ugh, shut up, Bird." She taunted. "I've been laid plenty of times for my satisfaction, thank you!" She pushed his shoulder and walked into the kitchen. "Hungry?" She asked the room. It wasn't really a question she expected to be answered, she always made breakfast for the Pogues in the morning. Kiara was laying down on the pull out in the living room and put her thumb up in response, John B stopped to look at a photo of their dad with his kids, the two Routledge twins. Pope was asleep outside on a bench, feeling the hot Outer Banks heat.

"Oh, day drinking, John B? How classy." Cassie teased as her brother grabbed a cold bottle of beer from the fridge.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, eggs?" He asked, as he took off the cap. Cassie hummed in response as she got to her usual work of making a pogue-style breakfast. It's not like she minded, she enjoyed cooking, it was one of her only hobbies, a passion more so than anything. Kiara had saving the environment, Pope had his passion for wanting to be a Coroner, JJ had drugs and drink and well.. John B had surfing and the idea that their father was still alive somewhere.

She liked that they were all unique but were ever so close.

The door to their fathers room opened, revealing a happy JJ and a slightly embarrassed girl. The girl stood behind JJ as he walked up to Cassie in the kitchen. "Morning, Gorgeous, Eggs? Nice." The nickname JJ gave the Routledge girl wasn't anything new, he did this almost every day, at first it was a joke but after a while it had gotten to the point where it was habit for JJ to call Cassie anything but her name most of the time.

"Eggs." She confirmed, focusing on her cooking.

"I like scrambled if possible?" JJ's girl spoke up.

Cassie looked up at her with no expression and turned her eyes to JJ. He swiftly turned his body around to face his one-night stand.

"Sweetheart.. this was good. I'll see you around?" He put on a soft smile, trying not to seem like a completely asshole. The girl took the hint and left, not without slamming the door behind her.

"Jesus, was there a need for that." Kiara complained from the pull out. JJ mouthed sorry to the girls before wandering outside to talk to the boys.

"Bacon?" Kiara asked as she walked up and sat herself next to the counter.

"Of course. It's like you don't know me!" Cassie faked being hurt.

John B walked back into the house after a while with the two other boys, Cassie finished up served them each a plate.

"Meeting today?" Pope asked, eyeing up the calendar on the wall. Cassie and John B groaned.

"They'll want us to split up, so you know the drill, if anyone asks?" John B looked at the group.

"Yes, we say your uncle is here. John B, bro, we know. Chill." JJ didn't look up from his plate as he spoke, drinking down a beer.

__________________

Cassie and John B sat in the DCFS office as the social worker sat behind her desk.

"John, Cassandra. It has come to our attention that you two are unemancipated minors living on your own.."

"What? No. No. No. No." John B laughed.

"nope." Cassie looked back and forth between the two.

"nope." John B copied.

"I need honesty to help you two." The social worker was unamused by the Routledge twins sat in front of her. "That's what we want, right?"

"Yeah." The twins agreed in unison.

"We are being honest." John B smiled.

"Okay, then when is the last time you two spoke to your uncle?" She asked as she pulled out a book and began to write.

"Uh.." John B checked his watch.

Cassie leaned over and had a look. "Yep, about 34 minutes ago." The two smiled at the social worker.

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Two hours and.. 43 minutes ago?" John B shrugged.

The social worker looked up and stopped writing.

"We're gonna come out there tomorrow and talk to your uncle. If he's not there we are going to more forward with foster care."

The smiles disappeared from the twins faces and they looked at each other. "We assure you both, we're gonna find you two safe and loving homes."

"Homes?" John B sat up. "No, home."

"John, the possibility to finding a home that will take two teenagers is hard."

"I don't care." John B began to raise his voice, Cassie sat there as she began to feel sick.

"John, stop." Cassie spoke softly and placed her hand on his arm, pushing him back in his seat.

"You two may leave." The social worker didn't look up at the twins again, she just kept writing.

The two left the building and headed towards The Twinkie.

"FUCK!"

"Bird. Stop."

"Separate us?! Fuck!"

Cassie sighed and got into the van, John B followed, slamming the door behind him. "I won't let it happen."

"They're gonna find out, John. Okay, so what's the plan?"

"What's she gonna do? Nothing. We don't do anything. Stand out ground, y'know?"

Cassie rolled her eyes, knowing her brother would come up with some stupid plan on the pot in the morning and it will backfire horribly.

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corysmiles · 3 years ago

Note

Sup! I'm back from Barcelona! Hope you're doing well!

Remember that sbi rust prompt you gave me a month or 2 ago? It is done (not readproff tho so there may be some mistakes) anyway enjoy my grand return!

Edit: did you know 250 paragraphs is the limit lenght to an ask? On an unrelated note I will have to cut this into multiple parts so enjoy this first chapter!

-----

"Whaaat the-"

Wilbur took a step back, mouth agape and watched the figure inside of the dome. A human, identical in the looks, if not for the size of it.

When he went to explore the looming monument that rose from near his house, he expected food or scientific papers, perhaps some gas masks and equipment, not a... giant.

Weren't those things a myth?? Just a silly fictional creature to scare children away, not... not real and THERE, sleeping right in front of him??

The thing was curled up on himself, unable to fit in the 30ft wide sphere if going to its full lenght.

Wilbur was trapped in the walls of flesh.

And to his dismay, he was just in time to witness the creature wake up.

Lazily, they opened their eyes, squinting. They looked at their surroundings, the roof, the walls, the floor.

And the man was able to pinpoint the exact moment their eyes landed on him.

They gasped softly, almost mute. Their eyes widened, and they stood here, studying the punny intrudor for a too long moment. Only after, they spoke, barely above a whisper.

"Uhm... hello."

Wilbur expected the giant to speak, seeing how akin to a human he was, but he didn't expect such a young voice to be held by the.... boy?

"Hey." Wilbur waved, hand as shaking and hesitant as his voice.

"... What's your name?" They spoke.

Wilbur gulped, more on instinct. "Uuh, Wilbur. Who are you? What are you doing here?" He pointed.

They nodded in a hum before looking at the floor below, eyes a bit blurry.

"I...my name is Tommy. And uh... this is where I sleep."

The stare the human kept on the boy was intense, full of disbelief and curiosity. It was uncomfortable.

He shifted a bit. And Wilbur's eyes darted towards the small movements. Ah, right. Humans were hyperaware.

"It's been a while since I met someone around here."

"Yeah, I can imagine that... ever since the nuclear incident, it's been quite the task to find someone." Wilbur explained. What did this being knew exactly?

"Oh... I see." He lowered his head, before letting it rest on the floor, and holy shit he was even bigger than he thought.

He swallowed the lump back down his throat, and sat legs crossed.

The giant, which looked like a teenager now that he got to see his face up close, kept looking at him, expression almost bored.

Then, without much a warning, he lifted his hand and moved it towards the human, who instantly scrumbled away as fast as he could.

"wowowwoowowo- what-"

The hand froze, and when he looked at Tommy, the expression was sad, almost hurt.

Silence filled the room for a minute.

"Sorry" the giant apologized. "I must be quite scary, huh?"

Without much thinking, wilbur nodded. "Um, yeah"

"It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you." He reassured, his voice pathetic. "Can I come closer?"

Wilbur looked at the hand, then at the teen. He took a deep breath before nodding, earning a pleased smile from the blond.

More careful, a hand thrice his size came to him, fingers slowly wrapping themselves around the human. He tensed, unwilling to move an inch despite his mind begging him to get out of here.

He closed his eyes in anticipation, but after a minute of stillness, he felt a rough pressure on his head, ruffling his hairs.

"Wha- what are you doing?" He asked, refusing to open his eyes yet.

Before he got an answer, the mass, which he recognized as a thumb, moved from playing with the hair to caress his skin as gently as possible.

With much hesitation, the human opened his eyes and met the face of the teen, who beared an expression of pure shock and wonder.

As the thumb rubbed against his cheek, he inhaled, shivered.

"You're so small... so fragile..."

His face was washed with a wave of sadness, while Wilbur drew his hand closer to the gun hidden in his jacket.

"How do you feel, wilbur? Do you feel fragile?" His voice was as sad as unreadable.

And at the moment, Wilbur did feel as powerless as a bug stuck in a web. A tall, wide web. Not that he would tell Tommy.

"... Is that a threat?" He asked instead.

"No, I'm just curious." A sort of melancholy couldn't leave the giant's face. "If I were to threaten someone, it would be because they acted like a bitch. You're not a bitch as far as I know."

The curse took Wilbur off guard, and he found himself giggling at the vocabulary. The blong smiled as well.

Then, the thumb moved from the face and slowly descended to cover his chest (entirely)

And....

It felt... like a hug?

How long has it been since Wilbur has been hugged.

The gesture was confusing.

"... why?" He voiced.

"I don't know. I know people like hugs. Makes them feel safe."

He eyed the fingers around him before focusing, wary, on the face.

"What are you planning to do to me?"

"Huh?!" He raised eyebrow and his hands left Wilbur's surrounding in a too quick motion, gesturing in defense. "Nothing!! I just want you to be comfortable. Been a while since I talked to anyone." Without the giant controling his volume, Wilbur had to cover his ear at the sudden booming sound.

He nodded nontheless, still unsure, and the silence drawn out.

"...why did you want to explore the dome?"

For some reason, the echoing voice was quite soothing to the human's ears, now that it was bearable. He took a few steps and put his hand on the part of the dome not blocked by an enormous mass. His finger carressed the copper walls until he was sat.

"I wanted to explore. I don't live very far, and this structure intrigued me. I expected to find some researches, not.... uh..."

Tommy smiled and understood the man without him having to finish. "Yeah. I'm not really something to be expected."

He nodded. "And you've been here for a while?"

"Not so much." The giant responded, "I usually travel from place to place trying to survive, pretty much like everyone else."

"I see..."

"I can try and look out for any paper or stuff if you want, so next time you come, I can hand them over."

Wilbur paused. The idea of returning to the giant made him frown, but the blond did seem to hold no grudges against him.

".... Maybe." He landed on.

And visibly, the teen was elated at the news, his grin growing to his ear and his hands joining in a clap. (As gentle as he could to not make the small man deaf.)

"Welp." He got up, before he got a sugar overdose from seeing that excitment. "I think I'm gonna head back."

"Do you want me to help you get back home?" The other proposed, enthusiast.

"No."

It was quiet for a moment, silence only disturbed by the giant shifting position. It was... unusual. But the enormous teen didn't seem hostile, and if Wilbur could get himself such an ally, he wouldn't take it down.

And so he returned home.

---

2 days later, he returned.

He was surprised as well, but curiosity guided his steps much more than his fears ever since the giant teen revealed himself a potential ally.

He inhaled deeply before climbing the stairs, his feet landing on the metalic ground.

The smile on the teenager's face when he turned around and met the tiny man was as heartwarming as nervewracking.

"YOU'RE BACK!!!" He cheered, and already the human had to cover his ears, the joyous scream deafening. He realized his mistake pretty soon though as he covered his mouth and mumbled, much quieter "Sorry. Hi Wilbur."

"Hello, Tommy." He replied, cautiously removing his hands from his ear. "How have you been?" He started. Usual politeness shouldn't be too awkward.

It took all the self control of the blond to keep his voice quiet enough when he said "I've been fine, thank you." The energy bubbling from him only made Wilbur chuckle.

"Good, good." Wilbur took a few steps towards the blond (or rather his face, since the teen was kind of all around the room) "You seem happy to see me."

Tommy nodded way too quickly and strongly as he confirmed. "Yep! I-" he pained keeping his voice low "-I wasn't sure if you'd really come back. I'm very very very glad you didn't lie. Especially since I have..... THIS!!"

He didn't even bother whispering as his hand came to view, previously hidden behind his back, and coming towards Wilbur in a fist at a racing pace. The brunette couldn't help but flinch back.

Tommy stopped mid-way, realizing his carelessness once more. He whispered an apology and the hand came, much slower this time. (Almost comically slow, but Wilbur wouldn't really complain)

Then, when only at about 6ft away from the man, the hand opened, revealing several piles of papers.

Wilbur's eyes widened. He looked at the blond, confused.

"You said you wanted to look for researches and stuff, sooo I tried finding some. And you were right! There are papers everywhere in here!"

Wilbur looked at the floor which he now realized was almost white from sheets, as well as the several seemingly blank pages stuck on the giant's body, and nodded, repressing a chuckle.

"Yep. Everywhere."

Tommy held back a laugh as well, and Wilbur tried visualizing how this.... god knows how tall being could try opening drawers with his nails barely thin enough to hold the handler, and reading papers the size of a pins on his hands, all while trying to manœuver his body so he wasn't blocking the rest of the building.

He would lie if he said the thought wasn't amusing.

He went for the paper, and without much thinking hopped onto the hand, since the papers were mostly at the center of his palm.

He grabbed a few and sat down, begining reading when he felt a shaky inhale. He looked up to meet the amused eyes of the blond.

"... Seat's comfortable?" He teased, as playful as baffled.

Wilbur frowned, then looked below him and his eyes widened as he registered. He shot straight up.

"Oh-oh oh I'm so sorry- I- I sincerely apologize I-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as he covered his ears, a wheezed laugh echoing through the entire thing and sending Wilbur shaking from the vibrations.

He found himself laughing as well, barely able to keep up his balance as he stepped out of the hand, a good chunk of paper held between his chest and arms.

The laughs finally died down, the blond disforming his face with his hand trying hard to muffle the sounds. He looked back at the human with what could only be described as adoration. The hand left his face and he chuckled still as he talked.

"Ahh, don't worry about it. I expected you to just take the papers and go, but this? This was funny. Definitely the first time someone sits on my hand like that."

"I-... is it a bad thing?" Wilbur asked, taking slow steps backward while he kept a smile. The last thing he wanted was to upset a giant he was trapped with. Sure, the kid was nice, even though overwhelming, but a wrong gesture could change that first part pretty quickly.

"Nah, I don't mind. If the floor is too cold for your liking, you can sit here."

Wilbur sighed in relief and gave the blond a smile. "Alright. Thanks."

He still chose to sat on the floor, and started reading again. His intuition was right, there was tons of information in here.

He read in silence, only disturbed every once in a while when Tommy asked what was in the sheets. Wilbur explained as easily as possible and kept the details for himself. Tommy was satisfied with the answer he was given, though, so that wasn't a problem.

He was only a quarter through the first pile of paper when he felt something approaching. He froze when a mass, probably a finger, found itself on top of Wilbur's head.

There was a beat of silence when neither moved, and the finger ruffled ever so slightly his hair.

It was a bit awkward, but it wasn't uncomfortable, so he didn't protest.

A soft voice pierced through the silence.

"If I press on your head too hard or hurt you, warn me. You're small so I don't know how much pressure I can apply on you."

"Alright." Wilbur nodded. "You're doing fine right now, I'll tell you if that changes."

The rest of the reading was done with Tommy gently playing with Wilbur's hair or tapping his back in an attempt at a 'massage' (as Tommy called it). It was distracting, but not uncomfortable. At times, even soothing.

It was almost night when Wilbur read most of the first pile. He got up with the paper he read already and looked for an empty drawer.

Fortunately, since Tommy spent 2 days scrambling to get every possible paper out, it wasn't much of a challenge. Below Tommy's angled leg was a furniture. He went and deposited it.

"That should be good." He said as he closed it. He then turned around to meet the blond. "Well, I think it's time for me to go home. I'll be back soon though, this place is VERY interesting."

He forced himself not to fake a gag at Tommy's smile. Urg. So genuine.

"Yeaaayyy" the giant stage-whispered while clapping his hands as softly and quickly as possible. "It's nice having you around. Can I do anything to help you?"

Wilbur brought a hand to his chin and thought for a moment. "If you find an empty book, you can give it to me next time. I'll bring one myself though so you don't have to tear this place upside down to find one." That made Tommy chuckle.

And so, Wilbur returned home once more.

THIS IS SO GOOD MEL OMG!!!

Pls read this it’s amazing and so well done, I love the rust server and this is so good :D

#mcyt gt community #mcyt g/t #t!wilbur #g!tommy #rust server #melissas writing #ITS SO GOOD #READ THIS NOW #THIS IS A THREAT #>:D

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sagemusesoutloud · 4 years ago

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Anti-Romantic, Part 2

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader

Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff

WordCount | 2 K (bitesized for your convenience lol)

Author'sNote | I know this is kinda short, but I've decided not to rush the ending. I'm for sure not drag it out too much, but the slowburn reaaaally got to me and I ended up liking more than I orginially thought, so! I'll be back to post Part 3 tomorrow!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I know that you love me, It makes me deeply drunk

You’re like champagne, I shouldn’t do this

You’re at the base of the stairs to your apartment complex when he pulls up. The window on the passenger side rolls down.

“Hurry! I think they’re about to wash the machines at the ice cream shop!” he reaches over and opens your door while you grab your two bags and your pillow. You loved him, you really did, but he had the flattest, most uncomfortable pillows in the world in his guestroom.

“What? Why didn’t you stop there before picking me up? It’s not like you don’t know what I like.” You’re trying to move all your stuff to the backseat as he pulls away.

He sighs, “Thank you Jae, you’re so nice to pick me up,” he mutters. You’d be a bit apologetic if it wasn’t for the grin he was trying to hide. “I’ve already spent most of my ‘special’ day alone, thanks to someone who had to bail on me. I wanna spend the rest with you.”

“I knew it, it bothered you didn’t it?” You accused while fastening your seatbelt. “Next time, just tell me, I know it seems as if I know everything but I actually can’t read minds.” You knew he was just messing with you but for some reason his words cut at the guilty feeling you were trying to push away. “I actually got you something this time around, it’s why I wanted to see you before the day ended.”

Jae parks the car outside the shop before turning to you, “wait, did you really get me something?” You sigh, offended, “well, if you don’t want it or don’t like the idea of it, then I can still return it.”

“I just thought of you when I saw it…” crap, it’s too soon for you to go anywhere near that subject.

“That’s not what I meant,” he shakes his head, “It’s just been a while since we shared birthday gifts.” You look away from him. If he kept this up, you’ll start to regret calling him. Your hands were slightly shaking with the effort of not reaching over and pouring all your feelings into him. Unlike what you’re used to, he was dressed down with a simple t-shirt and grey sweats. He looked so soft, and domestic. You hated how much you loved it. At least for work, you had both always been professionally dressed, which was a nice barrier for your thoughts. If you dressed professional, you felt professional. This helped control your thoughts. But now that you were here with him, it was definitely harder to keep track of your thoughts.

Today was a day for him, not for you. You took in a deep breath as you turn to look at the shop. It looked like they were getting ready to start closing duties. Even if you weren’t looking at him, you could feel your heart race with acute awareness to his proximity in the small car. He was waiting for a response.

You open your door, “yeah well…if we don’t hurry, we won’t get those diabetes-inducing bombs you’re so fond of. And this all would have been for naught.” You needed to get a grip, fast.

I can clearly see the end, Worse than a hangover

It will be hard, Now, Just end it somewhere here

“I can’t believe you told them it was my birthday,” he groaned, pushing off his shoes at the door. You followed suit.

“Of course I did, it meant free goodies!” You raise the plastic bag with macarons. “It just sucks that they’re all valentine’s themed.” You make your way to the kitchen to put away the snacks you brought, dumping your overnight bag at the door of the guestroom. Maybe if you kept the heart-shaped gift out of sight, it won’t make you as nervous with him.

“I brought your fave by the way, chocolate covered almonds and gummy bears,” you call out. He appears in the kitchen, hair out of his way with a headband. Be still my heart, you thought. You decide to hyper-focus on placing some snacks on a plate to bring to the living room.

“So, what’s the plan?” He reaches over you to grab a water bottle from the fridge, brushing your hip with his front. No no no no no no no!

Was he teasing you? You knew that your face would give you away, you could feel how warm your ears and cheeks were. You hated how honest your face was, and it didn’t help that Jae knew you like the back of his hand. Maybe this is how he is nowadays? Flirty and confident? You’d be lying if you didn’t find it attractive, but not when his attention was only directed at you. You felt like you were slowly suffocating but even that wouldn’t stop the warm light that seemed to burst from your chest.

It seemed so easy to pretend you were closer to him, to pretend this happened all the time. That you were close enough to reciprocate his flirty actions.

“uh, em,” you clear your throat, “actually, I remembered you wanting to see that movie last time we hung out. I have it ready in my apple tv account.” You back away with the tray, “can you also grab me a water?” your throat was suddenly parched.

You settle in the couch, grabbing the throw blanket behind you. Any physical barrier you could place between you, you’d take it gratefully. “You remembered? That was almost three months ago, when the trailer came out.” He handed you your water and grabbed at the corner of the blanket nearest to him, covering himself with it and moving closer to you so that you both could fit under it.

“Jae, there’s another blanket on your side of the couch,” you wanted to feel embarrassed but you just felt an unexpected giddy feeling at him wanting to be near you. “Yeah but it’s my birthday and this blanket is my favorite,” he says as he pulls you closer and wraps his arm behind you on the couch.

“here, put in your credentials so we can start the movie,” he hands you the remote.

You suddenly thank your lucky stars that the movie was an action packed one and not a romantic one. You couldn’t help but sink further into his side, wanting to be comfortable. As the movie starts, he takes the remote from your hand and wraps your arm around him. “I’m cold, keep me warm,” he mutters. Oh sweet Jesus.

Back in the day, this wouldn’t have been something new. Your friends knew you were very heavy with the affectionate touches. A hug, sharing seats, even holding hands. You never shied away from it because it was part of how you showed your friends that you loved them. Some of your friends were also this way, so it was never weird. But now that you’re older, and now that it’s been a long long time since you’ve been close to someone else, the once innocent touches Jae was giving you felt like hot brands across your shoulders and under your arm. If you focused enough, you could feel his hard work at the gym in the way your softness gave way to the hard contours of his leg that pressed against yours and how your shoulder leaned against his chest.

This was going to be a long movie.

You prayed that Jae wouldn’t ask you what the movie was about, you only had enough sanity to pay attention to the first fifteen minutes. It was all a blur after Jae pulled you half over on his lap, “you’re hogging the blanket, move over,” was the only excuse he gave.

Now, your legs were tangled with his and you sat almost on his lap, his arms encircling you from behind. He felt so soft and every little movement made your skin break out in goosebumps. You felt like a live wire about to explode.

“D-did you like it?” you started shifting to the side so you could face him but he held you tighter in place, resting his chin on your shoulder. “yeah, it was pretty good, we have to wait for the end credits though. I heard that they’re starting to give hints about The Eternals.”

“Did you like it?” he squeezes your middle.

Did you? You’re not sure, but you sure as hell loved the attention you were getting for the past two and half hours. “Yeah, all Marvel movies are great,” you finally concede.

“Wanna watch another one? You can pick this time,” his hand started tracing through your arm as you waited for the stupid end scene that was taking too long to start. Is it getting hot in here?

“Sure, whatever you want,” you mutter. He could have asked you for the most ridiculous thing and you would have still agreed to it.

Jae wakes with a start, the room was dark, the only light came from the still on TV. A show was playing softly, the clock under the tv read 3:45 am. He felt pretty hot, was the A/C not working?

He begins to shift when he realizes the position you both are in. Your legs were still tangled together, as if unconsciously refusing to let go of the proximity. You gripped his shoulder, your breath hitting his neck as you slept soundly on top of him. God, if this is a dream, let me never wake up, he thinks.

He usually hates being too close to someone, any sort of intimacy was bad news to Jaehyun. Either emotionally or physically, he kept everyone at a distance because he had seen it too often. How people settled for something they weren’t sure of and hurting those involved. He was aware he was too logical sometimes, but it’s what he knew to protect himself. Moments like these, they only lead to expectations and empty feelings, leaving behind only pain that even time couldn’t heal sometimes.

But why was he finding it so hard to untangle himself from your embrace? He should go to his bed and sleep comfortably, but at the same time, having you in his arms felt just right. Like two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.

He could smell the light scent that was you and it almost made him squeeze you closer, as if it was possible. You smelled of spring, a light floral scent that reminded him of better days.

He was glad he woke up, he was going to enjoy every second of peace this brought him. He would store it in a little box and hold on tightly when the cold reality came back. As he fought with his drowsiness, he felt you nestle closer. He kissed the crown of your head as he finally gave in to sleep. I hope I dream of you… If this was love, he finally understood why sometimes the pain was worth a shot.

So stupid, sweet love song, extravagant rom-com

As much as I was happy, on the receipt there’s a red line

EndNote | I know this chapter was pretty short. In all honesty, I had written something else before deleting it entirely and starting again, but I really like the direction the story is going now. Hopefully I can update Part 3 tomorrow, but I'm really excited about it!

Previous: Part 1 | Next: Part 3

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