#sometimes i feel like she should have a good weight to her and sometimes i feel like she could rest atop spikes head | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starry-bi-sky · 8 months ago

Text

tales of the passerine - danny fenton being bruce wayne's first kid

okay okay. so this is like a continuation/elaboration of my oneshot/prompt i wrote about the idea that Danny was the first batkid. We have a lot of aus where he joins the family after the rest of the bats do, right? So hey! Lets shake things up a bit. Danny is the first to be adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Danny's parents and unfortunately Jazz die shortly after the events of TUE -- how so? I was gonna say an ecto-filter explosion, that would call back to the TUE explosion and trauma behind that. But lets do something new! Carbon-monoxide poisoning.

It's not too unexpected for something to break in the Fenton house, especially with the Fenton parents' questionable understanding of proper weapon handling and lab safety. The water heater broke from a stray shot by one of the weapons, and was promptly MacGyver'd incorrectly. Danny went to stay with Tucker for a guys' night, and came back to a dead silent house.

(Danny's neighbors got a very unfortunate shock when he ran to the next house over in hysterics.)

There was a lot of shuffling around with CPS, the police. People had to be called in to handle the equipment in the lab, and the GIW was rumoring to show up in aid to clearing the scene. When Danny heard of that, he immediately went and dismantled the ghost portal to the best of his abilities. He burned the physical blueprints of all his parents' inventions, their blueprints on the ghost portal, and their most dangerous weapons were destroyed beyond recognition. Anything to prevent the GIW from getting their hands on his parents' tech.

It opened up another investigation, but he was not under the list of suspects. He was placed in the care of Vlad Masters, where they then went back to the rebuilt castle mansion in Wisconsin. Danny, terrified of the future that has once passed and may do so again, shuts down in his grief. Inadvertently, he ends up somewhat repressing his ghost half. Something Vlad, who is grieving Madeline but relishing in Jack's demise and his custody of Daniel, is not very happy with.

Vlad's... gone into a bit of a mental health spiral. He's becoming increasingly possessive over Daniel, the final remnants of his friends and a liminal being like him. He doesn't like that Danny's repressing his ghost half -- both out of genuine concern as a ghost, but also because of his desire to control Danny and groom him into the perfect son. If you ever had a phase where you read Dark SBI found family fics, first off; me too bro, and second off; those are the vibes I'm thinking of.

Danny's mentally shut down from grief! And fear. He's dropped into a bad depressive state -- paralyzed with grief and the terror of the inevitable. Clockwork saved his parents because he believes in second chances, but what's the point of that when his family ended up dead anyways? Danny doesn't wanna believe that he's destined to become evil, and he's holding out onto that hope, but it's a thin line, and he feels utterly hopeless and trapped. He hasn't used his powers or ghost form since he trashed the lab, and Vlad has alarms set up to prevent him from trying to escape.

He's also unintentionally cut off Sam and Tucker -- both of whom are so scared and concerned for Danny too, and are trying their damndest to reach out to him. He keeps ignoring their texts. Danny basically haunts Vlad's manor. He goes out to eat if he has to, attends parties Vlad drags him to, and stays in his room all day if he can.

At parties, Vlad doesn't allow Danny to leave his side, or really talk to anyone -- not that Danny wants to. A product of Vlad's increasing possessiveness. Well, he almost doesn't let Danny leave his side. Danny has a habit of slipping off to hide somewhere for the parties whenever he can, and Vlad reluctantly allows it so long as he stays alone.

This becomes an advantage when eventually, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after missing for years, and holds a bright charity ball to celebrate the return. Vlad has been chomping at the bits to get his hands on Wayne Industries, and with the return of its owner there is no better opportunity to wipe out his rival. He goes, and he as normal, brings Daniel with him.

Vlad thinks Wayne will bleed his little heart out for Daniel's poor orphan sob story -- he's a fellow orphan himself, after all. He's not wrong; Wayne's little heart will bleed, just not in the way that benefits him.

Bruce sees Vlad and Danny approaching before they're even close enough to introduce themselves - and like with many of the children he will soon come to care for, it's like someone set a mirror into the past right in front of him.

Danny Fenton's suit is tailor-made for him, and despite the fact that it's his perfect size, the sag in his shoulders, the ducked down head, and the way he hunches into himself all pictures the image of a child in shoes too big for him. There's a far away, glazed over look in his eyes and grief marble-cut into the lines of his face. There's not enough makeup in the world that will hide the dark circles under his eyes.

("My nephew, Daniel Fenton." Vlad's hands are possessive on Danny's shoulders. Bruce immediately notices the way the boy tenses under his touch. "His parents passed recently, and as his godfather I was designated his guardian.") ("I'm so sorry, the loss must've been terrible.") ("Yes, carbon-monoxide poisoning caused it. Daniel was out with friends, when he came home... they had already passed.") (Bruce immediately dislikes that Vlad shared the details of their death unprompted -- he likes it even less when Danny flinches at the reminder and hunches into himself.)

Danny runs off at some point earlier into the charity. At this point, parties are still being held at Wayne Manor (because iirc google search mentioned that was a thing at first before it was changed), so he disappears and hides in one of the empty rooms nearby. It just so happens to be the same room Bruce Wayne hides in when he needs a break from all of the socialization.

Thus begins a long, long process of trust. Bruce can't reveal his hand as being smarter than he looks, but he can be compassionate. Kindness needs no measure of intelligence. He keeps Danny company for as long as he can before he runs the risk of being found.

Rinse and repeat. Vlad insistently wants Wayne Industries, and he'll go to as many Wayne parties as he can to get his hooks into the man. The problem is that Bruce Wayne is never alone, and getting him alone is impossible. Finding him too. It's like the man never stops moving. Always talking to someone, always circling somewhere. He orbits around the room as if he isn't the sun of the Gotham Elite's solar system.

Danny's had such repetitive behavior that Vlad never thinks to believe that Bruce Wayne is disappearing to go talk to him. That "Vlad's" son is even interacting with him at all. Danny never gives him a reason to think so, and neither does Bruce.

Danny doesn't actually acknowledge Bruce until a handful of parties in, where he hands Bruce a small slip of paper he smuggled in that says; "don't trust Vlad". Danny's face stays carefully blank, but he's so tense that his hands are trembling, and he's purposely looking away from him. Bruce plasters a smile onto his face, slips the paper into his pocket, and tells him "okay".

(he's been busy with his own goals with the mafia, but he sets aside time to investigate Vlad Masters. He was holding off. Until now.)

Danny does eventually start speaking to Bruce, he's starting to really like the guy. He's starting to see a little hope, even as Vlad is starting to get more and more agitated with him the more he refuses to use his powers.

He reaches out to Sam and Tucker again, and starts trying to reconnect with them. Vlad has spyware on his phone, and he limits the amount of times he can talk to them. A weird parental control lock of some sort that leaves a time limit on how long he can talk to them for. 30 minutes. Danny doesn't tell them anything about Mr. Wayne.

Danny, slowly, wants out of here, and he's slowly gathering the motivation to do it. Vlad is genuinely scaring him -- and Danny wonders just how truthful the past-future Vlad was when he told him that Danny wanted his ghost half separate. He starts trying to come up with an escape plan.

Vlad has anti-ghost wards everywhere around the mansion, and while they're always on, they boost to full power at sunset. The doors and windows are always locked, all main exits have alarms set on them. The only reason it's not super extensive is because Danny hasn't tried leaving at all yet, so Vlad hasn't had to tighten anything.

At night, Vlad locks the door to his room and puts up an anti-ghost ward around the room. The mansion is on the outside westward side of Madison, more entrenched in rural Wisconsin. The closest town is a four-way stop sign with one house on three corners, and an open bar on the fourth. Not much to go.

He refuses to go to Sam and Tucker; Vlad would look there first. It's too dangerous. Vlad would sound alarm bells and have a manhunt looking for him, Danny can't risk going just anywhere. Too much risk of being found, sold out, or caught. There's really nowhere for him to hide.

Until there is. Bruce is telling Danny about the history of Wayne Manor, and says, as casually as saying the weather; "The manor has dozens of empty rooms, I'm sure Alfred wouldn't mind filling another one if he could." And quietly, hesitantly, Bruce places a careful hand on Danny's shoulder, unrestrictive and gentle; "He wouldn't mind getting one ready for you if you need one."

And there it is. There's his out.

Danny, just as quietly, replies; "I'll keep that in mind."

The ball starts rolling.

Now I've been trying to summarize this au as much as possible for length convenience, but Vlad has been steadily growing more and more controlling. More emotionally manipulative. More agitated at Danny for not using his powers.

He wants Wayne Industries under his thumb but he's been steadily growing more and more concerned with Danny. He's started grabbing him, yanking him around, shaking him; trying to goad him into using his powers. He gets angry when Danny doesn't react, or tells him he doesn't want to use his powers. He hasn't outright attacked him, but he's getting there. This has been happening over the time it takes for Bruce to indirectly offer Danny sanctuary at his home.

It all comes to a head when Vlad stops going to parties at all -- something Danny has to pretend he isn't upset about -- because Vlad doesn't want him around other people anymore. Vlad rarely goes now without him, and only leaves to go to a Wayne function or to handle something at VladCo.

Danny can't wait for Vlad to leave long enough to escape. So he leaves during the night of a big storm. Vlad's locked him in his room, but Danny doesn't bother trying to go for it; he goes to the alarmed window instead. Danny's been repressing his ghost half so long that he can't access his powers immediately anymore -- he can feel it, he knows its there, but he can't quite reach it.

He breaks the lock by hand.

Immediately the alarm goes off through the entire castle, filling the room with red, and he scrambles for the rope the Wisconsin Ghost left for him a few months back. Danny's already out and climbing down the side of the castle before Vlad even reaches his door -- the only good thing about the entire room being ghost-proof is that Vlad can't get in that way.

The rope ends before it reaches the bottom, and he's still twenty feet in the air. It won't kill him if he lands it right. Danny takes his chances, and drops. He breaks his ankle, but he survives.

And he fucking books it to the back garden. He hears Vlad shrieking over the thunder and rain.

I'll save the full experience for a future oneshot, but Danny makes it out into the nearby woods and forcibly experiences what it's like to be in a horror game, trying to hide from the thing that's hunting you. There's only one thing going through his mind; "i'm going to die"

I have this mental image for this scene. Very stereotypical horror imo. Where Danny is hiding behind a tree, with a hand over his mouth, and Vlad is a few feet away from him, glowing ominously red through the trees, trying to search for him.

Danny doesn't get away from this unscathed, but he does get away alive. That's all he could ask for. He gets away by getting his ghost half awakened long enough to transform into Phantom and fly to Gotham.

But he gets to Wayne Manor, he gets to Bruce. Or, at least, Alfred answers the door from his insistent pounding. Danny's just in tears and Alfred gets him in the living room, wrapped in a towel, with ice on his swollen leg before he has to step out and alert Bruce.

Bruce already breaks multiple traffic laws on a nightly basis. And that's just with the sheer existence of the batmobile itself, not including the speeding and military artillery attached. He breaks double the amount trying to speed back to the cave and get out of the suit.

Right off the bat: Bruce will know, at least before Dick enters the picture, about danny's powers. He'll figure out something considering the fact that Danny traveled from Wisconsin to New York in a single night. That'll be a bit of complicated affair, but I've already got something in mind.

Actually it'll probably be very soon after Danny joins the family, because Bruce tries to offer to fight for custody for Danny - the state Danny was in at arrival is clear enough evidence for a trial. But Danny immediately shuts it down, says it's not going to work and then Vlad will know Danny's with him and he won't be safe. He tells him that Vlad cannot know Danny was with Bruce.

Danny's biggest regret was not telling his parents he was a halfa, and while he doesn't want to tell mister wayne (yet), he does tell him about Vlad being one. He needs to know why Danny can't be seen with Bruce. So he tells him, and Danny's current plan is to just hide out from Vlad until he turns 18. That way, he has no more legal jurisdiction over him. After that? He's not sure.

And to wrap this up, since this has already gotten very long and I can make more posts about this au later; I've thought about it, and I'm going to say that Danny does become a vigilante before Dick enters the scene. He goes by, as you probably guessed; Nightingale. "Gale" for short.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #tales of the passerine au #i dont want to overemphasize how much vlad sucks but also i dont want to downplay it. but also i didn't wanna make this post too long #i didn't emphasize enough on vlad's possessiveness but i wanted to make this post as general enough as possible for the au.#for some more wiggle room in the future if i make more posts about this au.#the consequences for Danny repressing himself was not a concern i was focused on for the post but i am thinking about it and mulling it ove #i'll be blunt my main specific reason for why this occurs shortly after tue is bc it means dani doesn't exist yet and it means i dont have #to include her in the continuation of this au. i love that girl but she's a dead weight. i dont wanna come up with an elaborate reason as #to why she's not in the picture when i can just say 'she never created in the first place' instead. i don't have anything for her to do #I don't want to risk giving her a poor plot line just so that she exists in au.#sometimes i really hate just how long my posts get. i feel like it kills my engagement. but i also don't want to make posts that have #a part 1 and part 2 just because I think it got too long.#i feel kinda bad for having Danny take the spot of 'first partner' from Dick. But that was part of the reason i was inspired to make this a #i've already got the skeleton of a reasoning for danny becoming a vigilante being made in my head.#He can't go by Phantom since that risks drawing Vlad's attention -- a new vigilante showing up in Gotham. a place the visited frequently #who goes by the name Phantom? He'd be on that faster than chickens on meat. and nightingale has familial meaning behind it due to being #part of an ancestral name. it follows robin's theme of using it to honor his parents while still having its own unique enough lore to stand #on its own without feeling like a cheap copy. plus the bonus meta reason that it follows the bird theme. which personally is vital to me #my other alternative to Nightingale is Sparrow. mostly because it has good phonetic structure for a hero name. not too many syllables #a good balance of consonants and vowels. dont want a hero name with too many syllables or unbalanced consonants. or worse; both.#my reasonings is that hero names should be easy for a civ or teammate to yell while still being understood. max amount of syllables before #it threatens to become too wordy is 3. If it goes over 3 it should have a balanced consonant-vowel ratio. Wonder Woman is a good example #some things got cut here that were in the initial oneshot. like danny giving bruce his physical ghost core and showing up bloody.#the first son au

369 notes · View notes

hartxstarr-art · 1 year ago

Text

together.

#doodles #fanart #cowboy bebop #trainer bebop #pokemon #spike spiegel #ophelia #you know when spike naps on the couch and he tucks his hands behind his head?#he doesnt do that exactly in bed but #his arms would be either over his head #or tucked underneath the pillow beneath his head.#i had to get that specific spike hc out there somehow…#anyways #i know pokemon have general canonical weight ranges #but the musharna line always felt like they should be really super light #because dreams or something. anyways what im trying to get at is #sometimes i feel like she should have a good weight to her and sometimes i feel like she could rest atop spikes head #and he’d be okay with that #anyways. thanks for reading my tags mwah mwah

7 notes · View notes

lemonnbug · 9 months ago

Text

*banging my head into the wall* remember your therapist said that everyone has their own normal and that what's normal for one person isn't normal for another and that not being able to function at someone else's normal doesn't make you not normal

#she had some good takes. I miss therapy #Semi related but she gave me the really good advice that. When I'm anxious and am worried about the fact that I'm #-- being Weird™ bc of it. That I can just. Tell the person. That I'm anxious/have anxiety.#That it's the worry about my anxiety that's causing me to feel bad and y'know what #She was kinda right #Like yeah you're still anxious and probs acting weird. But at least the scary part is out in the open #She was just weird about weight so I stopped seeing her (a few other reasons too)#Should really try and find another now that I have insurance again #Wow lemon is just atalking huh #lemon talks too much sometimes

4 notes · View notes

phantomrose96 · 6 days ago

Text

When people join self-improvement or even hobbyist communities, there are some absolutely critical skills of fundamental skepticism they need when going in. I think most people who get into these communities aren't aware of these.

And just, as a fundamental few:

Does this person stand to gain financially from the thing they're trying to sell you on?

Is the business model of this whole community one of artificial competitiveness? Is there a pressure around never lapsing, or never straying from the model being sold to you?

Are the claims made in this community becoming bolder and bolder deviations from standard information?

These are absolutely rife in fitness, nutrition, and financial-advice communities and they often receive very little scrutiny except among those who already "got out." Because from the outside, seeing someone get into fitness is a good thing, good for them, glad to see it, look at that dedication, happy for them. Same on the other categories, and probably numerous others I haven't seen.

---------

Does this person stand to gain financially from the thing they're trying to sell you on?

If the answer is yes, that does NOT mean "immediately abort", it means keep that in mind when you're interacting with their content.

This nutrition influencer has given you some great recipes for free, and now they're promoting a "really fantastic" brand that they have an affiliate link with? Their motivation isn't to be your friend and helpfully clue you in on a great product. It's to make money off you.

You really like this fitness influencer's work outs, but she gets MORE interaction and MORE viewers the skinnier she gets? She CLAIMS she's been losing weight naturally with healthy eating and exercise, and she's still full of energy, and You Can Too. This is not your friend. This is not someone who knows you. This is someone under large financial and social pressure to do everything she can to put out her best appearance and her happiest appearance, and your attention and belief in the appearance is where the money and clout come from. You really need to remember this in the same way you remember to look both ways before crossing the street. You can cross a street and you can follow a fitness account, but protect yourself when doing it.

---------

Is the business model of this whole community one of artificial competitiveness? Is there a pressure around never lapsing, or never straying from the model being sold to you?

Communities stay strong if they retain people. There are a lot of fine and positive ways to retain people, but it's often easier to retain people by instilling them with a sense that they must be here. They should feel bad if they lapse or if their attention drifts. What they were before was inadequate. Everyone outside this community is inadequate. Do you want to go back to inadequate?

Is that financial subreddit that taught you valuable lessons about 401k's, index funds, and budgeting also quietly pressuring you to always do more? Are the top posts from extremist examples of people living in destitution so they can show the most extreme screenshot, and curate the envy of everyone else who ought to be ashamed of not doing as well as them?

Is that fitness community that got you into jogging also putting you in the mind that the truest and best people exercise 7 days a week? Never miss a metric? Never compromise on their dedication?

Is that person who "cut out all sugar and feels amazing" informing you that you should never have another cupcake in your life? And if you DO it's because you're BAD and DON'T WORRY, you'll get RIGHT back on the horse after. Shame will motivate you to come right back, and stay with the community, and never leave.

As long as you stay, the community grows. As long as you stay, the ad sponsors and the endorsed products and the influencers can benefit more and more. And sometimes, there's perhaps not even a malicious force behind it. It can happen from evolutionary pressures. The communities that survive are the ones that retain people. A community that trips accidentally into a model of pressuring people to stay is one which retains people and thrives.

-----------

Are the claims made in this community becoming bolder and bolder deviations from standard information?

You joined because you wanted to learn to cook for yourself. And this community has been helpful! You know how to make some delicious things. You've tried vegetables you've never tried before. And maybe you needed some convincing that brussel sprouts can be yummy, but what do you know, turns out you like them roasted.

But what else is being said? What things are being said with more and more frequency? Is it that "humans don't actually need any sugar, and it's a poison being sold to us?" Is it that "seed oils are toxic for you"? Is it that "pasteurization is bad"? Is the raw fruitarian convincing you that cavemen lived exclusively off fruit and you can too?

They'll have sources sometimes. Check them. Are they cherry-picked? Are they from an insular echo-chamber? Why isn't the mainstream literature aware of this? And if the answer has anything to do with "because mainstream wants to TRICK YOU and you're actually BAD for ASKING" then don't engage. Disregard. Take the recipes if you must but apply your skeptical filter to all the parts that are snake oil.

Sometimes it's that another community is only a stone's throw away. That person with a great financial portfolio has only good things to say about crypto, and what they're saying is making sense (average person [not smart] [poor] [bad money skills] laughs at crypto, but you're smarter. you're on the in-track). That amazing bodybuilder is pulling the hottest dates, and he says it's about male-confidence, and he says there are good support guides on becoming a respectable masculine man, and all you need to do is reclaim your masculinity in a society that wants to steal it from you.

In any place like this, come up for air. Come up for air FREQUENTLY. Talk to regular people and engage in academic literature outside this circle. Conspiracy thinking wins if you draw all your information from the entity trying to sell you on the conspiracy.

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

And I hope this is clear but my message is not "never join a community." My message is know danger when you see it. Recognize when you're being used or pressured. Don't fall for conspiracy thinking. Protect yourself. You can use a gas stove to cook meals but don't touch the flame and don't burn your house down. You can cross the street but recognize the signs of a car coming down the street.

And I'm making this point because so many people just don't know. ...Because getting into fitness is "good" and "self-improvement"! So is nutrition. So if financial responsibility. People walk into it and the extremism can make them feel accomplished, and admired, and like they're a part of something, and maybe even like a proper self-punishment for their own inadequacies. And people on the outside won't save you because "Wow! He spends 3 hours at the gym every day! I wish I was that dedicated." is a common attitude, and will push you deeper into what has its claws in you.

Everything I'm saying is not because I'm so much smarter and so much holier-than-thou for knowing this when others don't--I'm saying this because I was in it. I fell for it. Not all the examples above, of course. But I recognize the machine in them. It is highly appealing to run farther and fast longer and overload your class schedule when you don't feel good enough and want to prove something, and so many communities will sell you on the idea this IS an accomplishment. Then once you do, you have to do it forever. Or else you'll go back to not being good enough. And since fitness is "good", and weight-loss and good grades, no one can save you but you.

The answer was not to give up on the hobbies I was doing. I cook for myself most nights. I run and bike as regular parts of my routine. I like new recipes and I like half-marathons. But these are just positive additions to my life and they do not define my worth. If I miss a work-out it's whatever. If I order take-out it's whatever. I fundamentally do not care about the influencer with the washboard abs, and if I try a work-out from her, I have no loyalty to it. If the new recipe I try mentions "clean eating" I'll roll my eyes and just figure out if the recipe seems good. If the recipe is botching itself to avoid certain scare-words I will simply find something else.

There is absolutely a reasonable place for challenging yourself and trying things outside your comfort zone. The internet is full of resources to do so much more than you currently know how to do. And if that community is an oven, recognize it's an oven. Wear oven mitts. If it's actively on fire, leave. You're the only one protecting you. Stay safe.

#chrissy speaks

2K notes · View notes

haerinari · 4 months ago

Text

I don’t care about Sooha

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader. Decelis Academy AU.

synopsis: y/n has always been best friends with the seven boys Heeseung, Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon and Ni-ki. But ever since the new girl, Sooha, came to Decelis Academy, everything has been only about her. Heeseung, who wasn’t only y/n’s bestfriend but also the boy she liked, was the first of all of them to give all his attention to Sooha, making y/n feel a bit (a lot) jealous.

warnings: not proofread!, jealousy, cursing, fluff, smut, smut with plot, y/n being a bit hater on Sooha, kissing, boob play, nipple play, pet names (baby, love, princess, good girl), dirty talking, praises, clit play, pussy eating, fingering, cum eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this), use of the word cum-slut.

want to keep reading? click here ⬇️

“Sooha, come sit here! Right next to me!” Sunoo exclaimed with excitement pointing at my seat.

“But it’s taken” she said.

“Yeah, that’s my sea—” i tried to say but Sunoo interrupted me. “Oh, that’s fine!” he answered.

“Sunghoon can sit with Y/N.”

“Fine…” i groaned and took my bag and notebooks next to Sunghoon’s table. “I can’t believe this.” i murmured to myself.

“Don’t worry, i feel the same way about her.” Sunghoon whispered into my ear with a serious face. “There is something that isn’t right about her, she’s very…”

“Nosey? Annoying?”

“Yeah, its a weird thing y/n. But don’t worry, i’m always on your side.” he smiled.

The chemistry class went pretty smoothly, Sunghoon and I didn’t payed that much attention to it, instead we were laughing and making jokes about random things. When the bell rang, all of us were packing peacefully our things until Sunoo talked to Sooha again.

“Sooha, what are you up to now that clases are over?” the blond boy asked.

“Huh? Oh, i’m gonna clean my room today.” Sooha answered. “I got some of it done last night… but there’s still a long way to go. There’s a bunch of things to throw out too.”

“Then i’ll help!” Sunoo smiled.

When i got out of the class I saw at the end of the hall Heeseung and Sooha talking. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous about her, she has been so close to Hee lately. Before Sooha came to Decelis, he was the closest to me comparing to the others, we did everything together; lunch, siting together in class, and having deep long conversations at midnight, but it’s seems that all those things are over for now.

“Oh yeah! I sit next to Sunoo too, Y/N gave me her seat.” i hear Sooha saying to Heeseung while i was getting closer with all the other boys.

“She did?” Heeseung replied with surprise in his voice.

“Y/N didn’t give it to her, she stole it.” Sunghoon defended crossing his arms.

“Of course Y/N have it to her, she’s a good friend. You should do it too, Sunghoon. Mind your manners.” Jay talked.

“Sooha’s new in here.” Jungwon spoked. “We should be nice to her.”

“Yeah! Or you can just sit at the back with Y/N, you seemed pretty closed to her today, huh.” the blond boy said with a playful smirk.

“What?” Heeseung asked raising an eyebrow, getting in the conversation. “Yeah, the laughed and joked all~ the class”

“You-!!”

“Well, I also told them i was cleaning my room today… and the all offered to help.” Sooha said trying to relive the tension between all of us.

“Did we?” I said, Sunghoon laughed.

“What?” the girls said when Heeseung got closer to her. “Yeah… of course…”

Did Heeseung just talk to Sooha through his telepathy? No way, we agreed not to show our powers to her.

“Let’s go then!”

We all walked into Sooha’s room, there was a lot of boxes and stuff spread on the ground. Sunoo was wearing a pink apron while mopping the floor and Jay and Jungwon were taking the boxes from the floor. This room used to be were all of us hanged out sometimes, so there was boxes with weights, books, and other of our stuff on the ground.

“Uhm, guys… I can do it myself.” Sooha said.

“No Sooha, just stand there and watch.” Jay replied.

“Yeah, it’ll only take us a second.” Jungwon said.

“Cleaning is my favorite thing in the world!”

“You liar…”

“S-still, it’ll help too.” the girl said trying to take one of the weight boxes.

“Sooha…” i started. “I don’t think you can— Wow.”

“There’s 1000kg of dumbbells in it!” they exclaimed.

“How is that even possible?” i asked.

“Oh, no…”

“Here, let me take that for you.” Heeseung offered.

“Huh?” Heeseung was doing it again. “What? No! Of course not, i would never…”

“Heeseung did you just talked to her through telepathy?” Sunghoon asked shooked. “Yeah, since earlier today.”

“Heeseung!”

“Heeseung, we’re…”

“Sooha, you’ll keep my ability as a secret, right?” Heeseung said leaning closer to her.

Why did he always had to be so close to her?

“Yeah, of course! I won’t tell anyone.”

“Then let’s keep our secret between us.”

“Okay.” she nodded.

“I think your powers are really cool.”

“Yours too Hee.” Sooha answered with a little smile.

“Hell no, i can’t stand this.” i said in a low tone taking my bag from Sooha’s bed.

“What? Where are you going?” Sunghoon asked, Heeseung looked at me.

“I’m gonna be with Jake and Ni-ki on the field, they must be playing football. I’ll be there if you guys need me.” i murmured and left.

“What’s with her lately?” i heard Heeseung asked.

“I don’t know.” was the last thing i heard from Jungwon say before closing completely the door.

“What should i do guys?” i said hiding my head between my knees.

After successfully finding Ni-ki and Jake on the field, i told them everything that was happening with Heeseung and how i felt about Sooha.

“Well, it’s not a surprise you like Heeseung Hyung.” Ni-ki said.

“Yeah, all of us know that you both always had a thing for each other.” Jake added. “Both of us?”

“Of course that both you!” Ni-ki exclaimed. “You’re always like, eating him with your eyes.”

“Don’t say that! It’s embarrassing…”

“I remember one time he told us that he read your mind in class, it was an accident, he said. Heeseung hyung was going to tell you something via telepathy, but he accidentally ended hearing your thoughts about how handsome he looked that day.” Jake told.

“Shut. up.” i gasped.

“But be chill about it, Y/N…” the youngest of the boys said palming my back. “He likes you too, a lot more than you think.”

“Then why he is always so fucking close to her, talking to her, being with her, laughing with her!?” i said angrily.

“There is something weird about that girl, we can all feel it, he’s just trying to find out what is it.” jake explained.

“Huh? But she’s so w—”

“What are you guys talking about?” Heeseung said appearing behind our backs, interrupting my sentence.

“Nothing of your business…” i replied.

“Hyung! Good you’re here, Jake hyung and I are were just about to go, but we didn’t want to leave y/n alone.” Ni-ki said getting on his feet and doing a gesture for Jake to follow him.

“What–”

“Yeah, now that you’re here, you can stay with her. Bye hyung, see ya tomorrow y/n.” Jake said.

“Bye y/n!”

“See you around Riki…”

An awkward silence took all the place, I was still sat hugging my knees while Heeseung was standing behind me.

“Do you, maybe, want to go to my room? We can talk or do something if you like.” he spoke after a few seconds.

“Aren’t you going to be with your new friend Sooha?” i replied sarcastically.

“I think she’s on her room, i left her there. It’s been a long time since we talked, you know… you and me.”

“That’s because you are always with that girl, everywhere she goes, you have to go too.”

“That’s why I want to be with you now. C’mon, let’s go. I’m not asking if you want to or not.” Heeseung said showing me his hand.

“Fine.” i sighed and took his hand.

We walked through the Academy until we reached to the door of his dorm, when he opened it, his roommate, Sunoo, wasn’t there.

“Where’s Sunoo?” i asked walking in the bed’s direction.

“I think he went out with Jungwon and Jay, they said there were hungry.” Heeseung replied.

“Oh, how I missed your bed!” i exclaimed while jumping on his comfortable bed, it was so soft and cozy.

Every single time after we hanged out at night we used to come to his dorm and lay on the bed to watch movies, i remember how fast my heart beats were when i felt the proximity of our bodies and his scent all over the bed.

“I missed you.” Heeseung said lying by my side.

“Oh don’t say that.” i pinched him softly on the arm.

“Why not?” he smiled. “Because you know how i feel about you, and those things make my heart go crazy…”

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” he shakes his head.

“Don’t play dumb on me, Heeseung. Jake and Ni-ki told me about that time you read my kind in class, about how you heard how handsome i thought you looked that day.”

“Those assholes, i told them to keep their mouths shut!” i laughed. “I don’t care about Sooha, Y/N. Not in the way you think i do.”

“Your actions says other words Heeseung.” i looked at the ceiling. “It’s all right tho, i don’t want to loose our friendship…”

“Okay, now you stop playing dumb on me.” he laughed. “I like you, Y/N. I don’t like Sooha, i’m not interested in her. I like you and only you.” Heeseung confessed.

“Are you sure? I mean, like… like like?”

“Yes, Y/N. Like like.”

“Why didn’t you told me earlier?”

“I think i was a little scared… i knew you liked me but, i wasn’t completely sure and also didn’t want to lose our friendship. I couldn’t lose you, how could i live without you?”

“Oh stop saying those clingy things!” i said hiding my red face on his pillows. “I’m flustered.”

“Y/N” he called. “Hmm?” i said with my head still between the pillows.

“Look at me, please.” i turned at him, looking directly at his precious eyes. “You’re the only girl I have eyes for, you’re the only girl i can look at. Why would i be looking at some other woman when i have the girl of my dreams right in front of me?”

And with that, I instantly crashed my lips against his. As our lips finally met, it was as if time stood still; the kiss was tender yet electric, igniting a spark that both of us had expected for a really long time. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, a gentle exploration that spoke of shared secrets and unvoiced emotions. Heeseung’s lips brushed against mines, warm and inviting, as if testing the waters of a new adventure. A rush of warmth flooded through the kiss, igniting a spark that quickly ignited into something deeper. He got on top of me, the kiss growing more passionate. His hands cradled into my face, his thumb lightly tracing my cheek, grounding them in the moment.

“Do you want to… keep going?” Heeseung asked, trying to catch his breath.

“If you stop now, i’ll kill you.” he giggled. “That’s want i wanted to hear.”

The kiss was deeper this time, one of his hands went from my cheek to the buttons of my shirt, untangle them. He took all of my shirt off, revealing my black lace bra that was covering the upper part of my body.

“Fuck…” he sighted.

He kissed me again, now trailing his open mouth kisses from my mouth, then my neck, until reaching to my chest. His hand moved to my back, unbuttoning my bra and throwing it to somewhere at the room.

“Such pretty tits, baby.”

I let out a loud moan when i felt his mouth in one of my nipples, sucking it hardly while his other hand was pinching my other boob. His mouth felt like heaven, the wetness between my legs starting to grow wider by the sensation of his cock hardening on my core. My hips started to moved back and forth, searching for some kind of relief.

“Hee —fuck— please…” i begged.

“Aww, is my pretty princess needy, huh? You want to feel me all inside you, don’t you? Want me to break you apart…” he spoke with a smirk, his lips red and swollen from sucking my tits.

“Fuck yes.”

“Hold it a little longer baby, let me take care of you…”

He went down on my stomach, kissing every single part visible of my body. He took off my uniform skirt and kissed my iner-thighs, placing his hands over my knees to keep them open. My hips started bucking into him, trying to feel some kind of friction. He kissed my core through my panties, an embarrassing wet patch showing off. Heeseung moved the to the side, reveling my wet core begging for attention.

“Such a pretty pussy, such a pretty girl… I’m going to eat you out, and going to lick all of your pussy until you’re dripping into my face, baby.”

He started sucking my clit, his tongue lapping at it while he sucked here and there my pussy lips, making slurping noises as he devoured my cunt. My hand went directly to his hair, pushing him deeper to chase that feeling i’ve been searching for. He groaned, causing a vibration in my pussy and sending shivers down my spine.

“Fuck i love your pussy, i could fucking eat it all day, such a sensitive clit and wet pussy. You’re such a good girl.”

“Shit!” i gasped. “Heeseung ple —ah— please fuck me alredy.”

His index finger entered my tight hole, causing me to scream his name. His finger felt so long and deep inside me, i could imagine how good his dick was going to feel.

He added another finger, moving them in and out in hard pace while sucking my clit meanwhile.

“You’re so good, Hee. Shit, shit. You’re fingers feel so good.” i cried.

“If my fingers feel like this, imagine how good my dick is going to stretch you out. If you can’t take my finger, how are you going to take my cock? Huh, Y/N? Tell me…”

“I…I—” i sweared i could see stars in that moment. “I’m gonna cum.”

“You cuming baby? C’mon, cum all over my fingers. Let me taste all of you, baby.”

His fingers went faster, hitting that sweet spot deep inside me, his tongue sucking my clit. The knot in my stomach felt tighter and tighter until it finally explored.

“Fuck!” i gasped grabbing the sheets under me. “Oh my good, Hee.”

“That’s it baby… That’s it, so sweet. You’re such a good, good girl.” Heeseung said sucking clean all my pussy.

He came up to my face, kissing me with hunger and allowing me to taste myself.

“You think you’re ready for my cock now?” i nodded. “Yeah?”

“Please Hee…”

“Shit, anything for you baby.”

He took his pants and boxers down, revealing his long, thick cock leaking with pre-cum.

“There—There’s no war that’s gonna fit inside me.” i lowered my voice.

“That’s why stretch you out before, love.”

He thrusted his cock in his hand a few times until he aligned into my entrance. With a deep groan, Heeseung thrust himself into my tight hole, making me moan. His cock sliding deep into my wet, tight pussy.

“So, so tight baby.” he moaned. “This pussy was made just for me.”

“Yes, Hee. It’s feels so good.” i gasped.

His hand reached to rub my clit, making me moan even louder as he fucked my pussy senseless. He groans softly as he feels the tightness of my pussy around his cock. He begins to move faster, his hips slapping against my ass as he pounds into my cunt relentlessly.

“Hee, baby, i’m gonna cum again…”

“—Fuck— that’s it baby, cum with me okay? Let’s —shit— let’s cum together.

You couldn’t last any longer, not with the way he was rubbing your clit and not with the way he was burying his dick inside you. And with a loud moan, he buried his cock deep inside, his hot cum flooding my pussy. His hands on my hips holding me in place, making sure every last drop is deposited inside, marking me as his own cum-slut. His orgasm seems to go on forever, leaving me with a dripping, cum-filled mess.

“That was… wow.” Heeseung said collapsing next to me on the bed, i smiled.

“Yeah… wow.”

“Just for the record, i don’t want this to be just some one-time-hookup. I really have deep feelings for you, Y/N.” he said, wrapping his arms around my body in a tight hug.

“I want to be with you, Hee. I really like you too and i want to to this with you forever, you’re the only one.”

“My pretty girl.” he said giving me a kiss on the head. “You’re the best, y/n.”

“I know.” he laughed. “Love you, Hee.”

“Love you too, princess.”

1K notes · View notes

luveline · 6 months ago

Note

Hi, love! Hope you’re well <3

Could we perhaps have some more single dad Spencer? I miss him and Amanda so much

tysm lovely❤️❤️ —Spencer misses you when he’s not working, so Amy tries to fix that. fem, 1.8k

Spencer thinks about quitting the BAU, sometimes. It was all he ever knew how to do for a long, long time, and the work is important. He’s not too shy to say they need him.

When someone else needs you more, you start to wonder if work is all there is.

“And… kiss!”

Spencer scrunches his eyes closed as Amy leans across to kiss his cheek. She’s decided that every time they finish a drawing, they should kiss. Spencer’s enjoying it very much.

“Good job,” he says, “that was your best one yet.”

“I’m getting good at bugs.”

To their left, they have opened a huge copy of The Modern Encyclopaedia of Bugs: Insects, Arachnids, and Myriapods. Spencer has purchased many, many books in his life, and this was somehow the fifth most expensive, but it’s worth it, because it’s what Amy likes. She loves laying down on her stomach with a pack of art crayons and drawing the intricate details of each creature. She is, as she said, getting very good at bugs.

“I meant the kiss,” he says, leaning forward to tuck her hair behind her ears, mousy brown like his, twice as soft. “But the drawings are amazing every time.”

“If I… if I draw this one for Y/N, do you think she’ll like it?”

“She loves everything you draw her, baby,” he says softly, stroking another stray hair behind her ears. If she wasn’t so busy colouring the leg of a spider in concentrated strokes, he’d pull her into his lap for a cuddle.

“I’m not a baby.”

“You’re my baby,” he says, and she is. Spencer Reid has a kid. Who’d ever think it?

The older she gets the more right it feels. He’s a dad. He was always meant to be one to Amy.

“Amy, can I have a cuddle, please?” he asks softly. It’s fine if she says no.

She throws her nice crayons down immediately. Usually he wouldn’t say anything, but they’re a gift from his mom, so he says, “Be gentle with your things,” as she climbs over her paper pad and the encyclopaedia to land in his lap.

“So they’ll last longer,” she says.

He wraps his arms around her in a solid hug. “Exactly. The kinder we are to our stuff, the longer it lasts. That’s why–”

“Why you’re nice to your body,” she finishes for him. “Dad, I know.”

“You know everything.” He closes his eyes and breathes her in. Amy’s hair smells like lavender kids shampoo, her clothes like detergent. They stood in the softener aisle and Spencer, on his knees to match her height, took down bottles for them to smell the caps one at a time until they found the best one, settling on apple blossom and jasmine. “You smell nummy.”

Amy rubs her face into his chest. “What do I smell like?”

“Really clean.”

“So when I’m dirty, I smell yucky.”

“You don’t ever smell yucky,” he mumbles, relishing the weight of her in his arms. “Oooh,” —he grabs her under the arms and ushers her right into his neck— “my Amy, I’m so happy to be home. I missed you sooo much this week.”

“But you’re home next week.”

Spencer has started consulting more and going on cases less. He’s glad to do it, he can afford it, and Amy will never be any younger. He’s never been happier balancing work and family, except…

He used to see you everyday. It’s fine, he’ll choose Amy every time, but he wishes he didn’t have to, because he’s starting to miss you too.

“I’m home,” he says. “For the next sixteen days. Maybe longer, if they don’t need me then. Hey, tonight, I was thinking we’d go swimming.”

Amy makes a strange noise. “Um, well maybe not tonight.”

“Are you kidding? You love swimming.”

“I know, but I don’t want to go tonight.”

“Why not, angel? We can get your pool noodle and the paddle boards.” He lets his nose wrinkle. “Is it your swimsuit? I guess we haven’t got a new one in a long time. We can go shopping first. We can go now, if you want to.”

“Daddy, I asked Y/N to come over.”

Spencer laughs. “What?”

“I texted her.”

Spencer realises she isn’t joking and holds her away from him. “You what?”

“You left your phone in the bathroom,” she says defensively, her eyes on his shirt, “and I was washing my hands and it was boring and I thought you maybe missed her.”

“How could you know that?” Spencer asks.

“Because you talk about her lots, dad.” She shrugs. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry! No, no, it’s okay, it’s nice of you to think about me. That’s really kind.” Still, his stomach hurts thinking about it. “Did she… text you back?”

“She said she’s coming over.”

“She did?” Spencer asks. “Did she say when?”

“She said five thirty.”

Spencer checks his watch and feels his heart drop. “Oh my god.” He gets up with Amy in his arms, rushing to the mirror to see them both in their pajama’d disarray. “Oh my god! We need to get dressed. Amy, we need to brush our hair.”

Spencer panics harder than he needs to, but seeing you in fifteen minutes when he thought he might not for another two weeks is stressful. He decides Amy will have to wear new pyjamas, that he’s going to have to put on jeans, and that both of them could have used a shower to tame the mess of their hair, his curly, hers fine. He sprays hers with detangler generously, brushes gently, and plops her in front of the air conditioning unit plugged into the window to dry. He’s barely raked a hand through his own hair when the door is being knocked.

He can’t help squinting unhappily at Amy. She’s totally set him up.

She smiles back, and he feels awful for not smiling too.

“Amy, can you give me more warning next time?” he asks, crossing their living room to the front door.

She smiles wider. “Yes!”

“Okay, thank you.”

He thinks, Ouch, I’m not very nice, then thinks Why would she do this to me? before settling on, Everything's okay. Amy didn’t really do anything wrong, Spencer isn’t mad at her, and you’re waiting on the other side of the door to see them.

You smile on the stoop —how lucky is Spencer to have all these pretty girls smiling at him?— and adjust your bag over your shoulder, the cloth tote bag hooked on your elbow slipping and sliding with a rustle.

“Hello!” you say. “Where’s the little lady?”

“Hello!” Amy calls. “I’m by the air conditioner trying to get dry!”

Spencer lets you in. You nod your head gratefully and put your bags on the sideboard, dumping your keys in the bowl beside his, and offering your now empty arms for a hug. “Hello,” you say, “you smell good.”

Spencer panics. “You smell good.” Your arrival has brought the smell of Chinese food, and your jacket smells like perfume.

“Dad says I smell good too.”

You part from Spencer gently to bend down, meeting Amy at her height, arms out to offer a hug. “I bet you do. Hi, lovely girl, I haven’t seen you in too long.”

You lean into her with care. Spencer suspects you think she’s much more breakable than she is, but you’re sweet about it regardless, giving her back a good rub and humming happily when she hugs you back. She’s way less careful.

“Don’t strangle her, Amy.”

You pretend to choke. Amy laughs like a fiend.

“I missed you,” Amy says.

“Oh, sweetheart, I missed you too.” Spencer knows how good that must feel. “Can I get a good look at you?”

Amy springs away to pose. Her damp hair kisses her shoulders, her pants hide her dirtied socks. Spencer forgets that he wants to impress you and instead sees how cute she is, laughing to himself as she does a swift spin and slips into the side of the couch.

“Spence, she looks so much like you,” you say, grinning. “Don’t you think so?” You catch Amy’s eye. “You’re gorgeous! Can I see another one of those spins?”

Amy spins. You nudge Spencer in the hip. “I brought dinner like you asked.”

Spencer covers his face. “Was I polite?” he asks cautiously.

“You said can I please have my favourite Chinese food and can I please have a soda,” you say, laughing, so at least it’s clear who was really texting you, “so yes, you were very polite.”

“I don’t know what got into me.”

“Guess you really, really, really missed me or something.”

He loves Amy, and he wishes the wood floors beneath you would eat him whole; while it may be obvious that Amy’s posed as her father on the phone, it’s also clear that you, as a profiler, seem to have made assumptions as to why Amy would text you in the first place.

“It’s okay,” you say, watching Amy as she races to her sketching papers and the encyclopaedia, “I really, really, really missed you too. Even though it’s only been two days. Did you get taller?”

“No.” He gets the distinct sense that he’s getting flirted with, but he also doesn’t understand the compliment. “Same height, why?”

“Feel like this is taking much more effort than usual,” you say, your hand on his shoulder as you lift your chin to kiss his cheek.

Spencer follows you on instinct, not to kiss you or anything, but your elbow in his hand, almost begging for another.

“Oh, no,” Amy says.

Spencer feels your elbow but remembers himself, and raises his head. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, scouring her for injuries where she stands in front of you both, her drawing in hand.

“Now you gave Y/N cooties.”

Spencer blushes worse. “Oh, I didn’t kiss her! And I don’t have cooties, do I? I give you kisses all the time!”

“You’re my dad,” she says. “But you’re a boy.”

You pat him on his warm cheek. “He’s a boy, sure, but he’s not gonna give me cooties, don’t worry. I’m not here to see daddy, anyways,” you say, though your hand on his shoulder rubbing softly hints otherwise, “I’m here to see you. Let’s have our spring rolls before they get soggy, yes? Yum!”

Spencer wants you to stay for much more than dinner, but dinner’s a good start. He swoops Amy up to carry her to the kitchen table —she’s such a babe, she deserves princess treatment only.

“Kiss?” Amy asks.

“Thought I had cooties?” he asks.

“Daaaad. I was joking.” And she wasn’t joking, but Amy gets her kiss.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

borathae · 16 days ago

Text

Kiss the Cook

“Yoongi loves to cook for you. You love to watch him as he does and soon you can’t take it anymore. You have to kiss him or you will implode.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life, domestic Fluff

Warnings: cutie!Yoongi, Yoongi being a sexy cook, i said what i said, he blushes!, she feeds him some tangerines <3, as she sits on the kitchen counter, making out on said counter, Yoongi in a woolen jumper, idk but this is so hot to me and therefore needs a warning, they’re grossly in love!!!, i want what they have #bigsad

Wordcount: 2.7k

a/n: i love him, i love them, i love her, i love this :( enjoy besties, oy!Yoongi is going to be the fucking death of me fjdjasf he is such a cutie ❤ ps: does a story sometimes make you feel so single or discontent with your current love life that you want to claw your own eyes out? yeah. this is that story for me. i want what they have fuxkxk they feel so mature and settled and :( grrr spreading negativity all around me grrrr

You invited Yoongi over for dinner and wine. Which means that he comes over to your place to cook while you watch him and sip on wine. Now, this isn’t because you are lazy or you are forcing him to cook. On the contrary, it was Yoongi’s idea. He loves cooking for you, so you learned, and these little dinner dates have become a regular thing in your relationship.

And it is perfect. You get to see him and talk to him. He gets to do something he loves whilst talking to you. And at the end of it, you can share the yummiest dinner ever and experience a giddy tingle in your stomachs.

You invited him over tonight for exactly such a dinner date. You dressed up in a thick jumper and some woolen socks and even did your hair.

It has been snowing rather vividly all day, turning the roads into one powdery white plane with the rest of the world. The weeping willow in front of your sunroom is bending under the weight of the snow and the frozen stream is covered under a heavy layer of it as well. It is such a beautiful view, making you happy to be inside where it is warm and cozy.

Levi, your cute little cat, hasn’t left his spot by the fireplace all day. He spends most of his winter days napping where it is warm or watching the very few winter birds eat from your bird feeder. He will not leave for outside, however, that much is sure. It is way too much work to soil his good fur with sticky, wet snow.

You check the time again. Ten past eight. Yoongi should have been here by eight. You pace in front the sunroom windows, looking at the faint lights where his house might be. He decorated the outside with lots of Christmas lights and on the nights where you miss him, you like to stand in the sunroom and look up at the lights. Whenever you do, it feels as if he was right there with you.

Tonight however, the view makes you uneasy. Where is Yoongi and why isn’t he here yet? Did he slip and hit his head? Did a huge chunk of snow fall on him and he is now buried alive somewhere? Is he stuck somewhere? Did he forget?

Nervously biting your own nails, you hurry to the front door to take another peek outside.

“Oh, shit!” Yoongi exclaims, stumbling back and almost dropping the grocery bags he is carrying under his arms.

You flinch back too, not having expected him to literally stand right in front of the door in the midst of ringing your bell.

“Sorry, you scared me”, he apologises for his cursing. He is bundled into the thickest winter coat ever, wearing a beanie, scarf and gloves with it. His snow pants are covered in snow up to his thighs, his winter boots are basically white from all the snow. The last few inches of his coat are opened. Holly, wearing a little beanie as well, is peeking out from it. Yoongi must have bundled him up in it to keep him warm. The view is adorable.

“You scared me too. I wanted to check if I could spot you. Come in”, you say, stepping out of the doorway.

“Yeah, sorry for being late. I underestimated the height of the snow. I had to fight my way down here without falling on my butt. I waddled like I was ninety.”

“No worries, I’m just so happy that you’re here now and that you’re safe. I already pictured the worst scenarios ever.”

Yoongi chuckles, “I survived. Barely, but I survived.”

You laugh. He is so funny, making you laugh again when he struggles with undressing.

“Wait. Let me take the bags so you have your hands free.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course, I’ll carry them to the kitchen if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead, I’ll be with you soon.”

You are in the midst of unpacking the groceries when Yoongi and Holly join you in the kitchen. Holly greets you first, jumping up your leg and barking excitedly.

You coo, picking him up to let him lick your face.

“I missed you too, you little stinker. Aw big kissies, yes big kissies.”

“He really missed you”, Yoongi says, walking to you.

“Yeah, I missed him too.” You hand him Holly. “And I missed his dad even more. Hey there, handsome”, you say, stealing a kiss.

Yoongi smiles into it, rubbing your waist as the kiss breaks.

“Hey there, beautiful. I missed you too.” He says and then takes a step back to set down Holly. The little toy poodle instantly sets off to explore your home and look for Levi.

Yoongi studies your get-up, “I love what you did with your hair. It suits you.”

“Thank you, heh. I tried something new.”

“It’s nice, really beautiful.”

“Thankies. Uhm, wine?” You offer. “I might have already started without you because I was picturing you dying somewhere.”

He laughs, “what a relaxing thing to do. I won’t say no to some wine, thank you.”

You prepare him a glass, then cheer with him. He enjoys it with a hum. Afterwards he touches your hip and kisses your cheek. You lean into it, smiling from ear to ear. He is always so gentle with you. You love it so much.

“I hope that you’re hungry. I’m making risotto tonight”, Yoongi says.

“Yes risotto! I love risotto. I haven’t eaten since twelve because I wanted to be really hungry tonight.”

Yoongi smiles and begins. He puts on the apron you made for him and rolls up his sleeves. Well, at least he tries to because you stop him before he can.

“Wait, let me.”

He gazes at your face as you work, cheeks slightly flushed and heart racing.

“Thanks”, he whispers, trying oh so hard not to expose how giddy he actually feels. Spoiler alert, he feels very giddy. You are always so tender with him. He loves it so much.

Yoongi is wearing a brown jumper made out of the softest wool. It is warm and sits on his body in the most perfect of ways. His chest and back are defined in it, but he still looks snuggly. You feel so attracted to him that it is difficult not to bite him. In an adoring way of course.

It also isn’t helping that he is wearing your favourite cologne and a watch which really fits his wrist. Once his sleeves are rolled up, you can’t help but feel up his arms just once. You trace his veins, squeeze him and play with his fingers.

Yoongi chuckles lazily, closing his hands around yours.

“Is this still part of the service?”

“No, this was for me. You look really sexy in this jumper.”

He smiles and pulls you close to steal a kiss. You give it to him with a fluttering heart, gazing deep into his eyes once it breaks. He has the most beautiful eyes.

“I put it on for you. Because you once said that you like me in a jumper.”

“I do. I could bite you, I’m serious.”

“Please don’t”, he laughs and pecks your cheek, “I’ll be quick with dinner, promise. No biting needs to happen.”

“Maybe a little bit of biting.”

He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

“If I knew that I would be dating a biter, I might have reconsidered”, he jokes, busy with setting up some pans.

“You like it. Don’t lie”, you say and sit down on the kitchen counter.

“Maybe I do.”

You snicker, picking up a tangerine to peel it as he cooks.

And so it begins. One of the coziest and most beloved date activity as a couple. He cooks while you watch him. There are only a few things better than this.

You have the radio playing. Christmas songs because it is almost time for the holidays. The tangerine fills the air with a cozy scent and the wine tastes especially good. Whenever you and he aren’t lost in conversation, you can listen to Yoongi hum to the songs on the radio. He has a very nice singing voice. Deep and warm. You could listen to it for hours. Just as you could listen to him talk for hours.

“How are your legs by the way? Did the snow soak through your snow pants?” you ask him, staring at his butt.

It isn’t your fault, he is wiggling it to the music. It is his fault that you have to take a sneaky look.

“Mhm? No, my legs are fine. The snow didn’t soak through.”

“That’s good to hear. How was your day?”

“It was good. I fixed some things in the upstairs bathroom and started with the chaulking.”

Yoongi is still renovating his house. It is a very big project and he isn’t stressing himself, so it’s been taking some time already. You don’t mind. It just means that he will have to stay over more often whenever the building site is too dirty. Quite frankly, a part of you secretly wishes for the renovations to take forever just so he will keep coming over to sleep in your bed. You really love having him sleep in your bed. Not only because he is a total cuddlebug (don’t spread these news to anyone, he is very shy about it) or because he always smells so good, but also because you feel safer with him close.

“Chaulking? Wow, this sounds like process”, you say.

“Yeah, it’s been going really well lately.” He turns for a moment. “And you? Did you have a good day?”

“I had a really good day. I made some progress on the scarf and then did some yoga. Tangerine?”

Yoongi closes the distance, snacking on the slice you’re offering.

“This sounds like a good day. You have to be finished soon, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it's almost finished, which is very exciting if you asked me.”

You are currently knitting a scarf and have been regularly sending updates to Yoongi via text messages. His reactions to the messages vary from “good job!” all the way to the very rare and precious thumbs up emoji. He is honestly such a cutie.

“I can imagine. Do you have a new project in mind after you finish the scarf?” Yoongi takes one more slice of tangerine before he returns to the stove.

While you begin telling him about all the knitting project ideas you have. You don’t leave out any details. The material of the yarn, the design, the colours, even what kind of stitches you plan on using. And Yoongi listens gladly, he asks questions and reacts with his very endearing version of enthusiasm. It means so much to you. Being loved by him is so fulfilling. You feel so important, as if your existence has purpose. There is not one thing about you which isn’t important to him or which you feel like you have to hide from him.

It might sound strange, but being loved by him is so freeing. You feel so whole and so happy and you love him so much in return.

Yoongi steals one more slice of tangerine, staying close to you afterwards as he slices some mushrooms for the risotto.

“And what about you? Any new music projects you are working on?” you ask him, switching your adoring gaze between his face and his hands. He has such sexy hands.

“Yes, so many”, he says, nodding his head.

“Tell me everything.”

You listen to everything he has to tell you, gazing at him with the biggest heart eyes. He is so interesting and exciting. His hobbies are so wonderful to listen to. As much as you love talking to him, you love listening just as much.

Yoongi feels content with you. He feels utterly and completely happy. There is nothing missing with you. When he is with you, he feels whole and like himself. There is not even the littlest thing about him he feels like he has to hide from you and whenever he comes out of one of his accidental monologues about his interests, he isn’t met with boredom but enthusiasm and questions. Truly, his nerdy little heart swells thrice its size when he is with you.

A moment of silence follows after you and he exchanged interests. Happy and jazzy Christmas music fills it. Yoongi picks up the cutting board, carrying it to the pan so he can sauté the mushrooms in some butter. He adds the rice afterwards, seasoning it before he pours white wine into the pan. He pours some of the wine in his glass afterwards, closing the distance to clink glasses with you.

“To this evening”, he says, smiling one of his pretty, soft smiles he always does.

“To this evening and to you, the best boyfriend ever.”

“Be quiet”, he mumbles and drinks from his glass, looking to the side shyly. He blushes.

“Never. You need to know”, you say and lean in to munch on his cheek.

“Hey. No biting”, he laughs as he complains, moving back.

“Mhm, then how about I kiss the cook instead?” you say, setting the wine aside to pull him closer.

He lets you tug him between your legs, smiling at you and setting the wine aside. His eyes fall to your lips, his hands dance along a path which consists of your waist, hips and the side of your thighs.

“You’ve got a minute before I have to get back to the risotto”, he says.

“Then let me make the best of it”, you say, pulling him into a kiss.

How you make the best of this one minute. You kiss him as if you missed him for a million years, as if you needed him for survival, as if his lips are all you ever wished for. It might only be a minute, but Yoongi comes out of this kiss with slightly wobbly knees and a racing heart. His cheeks are flushed, his lower lip tingles as you end the kiss by biting on it gently.

“What was that for?” his voice is raspy, his eyes foggy as they gaze at your lips.

“Just felt like it”, you whisper, playing with his soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“Should we like, I don’t know, should I remove the pan from the stove for a moment?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose. You know what he is insinuating, stomach tingling at the aspect of it.

“And why should you do that?” you tease him, tinting his cheeks an even deeper pink. He curses under his breath, giving your hips a gentle squeeze.

“You drive me crazy, you know. First kissing me like this and then acting innocent.”

“Shouldn’t you check on the rice?”

Yoongi lets out a whine of discontent, but breaks away from you to stir the rice. He glances at you. You retort the glances, heart racing like crazy. His hair is a little messy because you played with it as you kissed him. His lips are slightly puffy and flushed pink. Quite frankly, he has never looked more attractive than he does right now in your little kitchen wearing the black apron you made for him as he cooks you dinner and seems just a little ruffled from your kiss.

You lift the glass of wine to your equally as puffy lips, giving him an eye smile as you sip the sweet alcohol. Yoongi blushes, shifting his gaze to dinner. He rolls his lower lip between his teeth mindlessly while his hands are busy with pouring chicken stock over the rice.

You and he both feel the electric sparkles in the air. The feeling is addicting, just as it is addicting to spend time with each other. You just work so well together, you are so right.

“You know”, you begin.

“Yes, baby?” he answers you, voice warm and caring.

“I love having you over.”

He glances again. His eyes sparkle, his teeth show in the shiest of smiles.

“I can look at you, I get to listen to you and talk to you. I love it.”

“Yeah, I love it too.”

“And I get to kiss you. It’s pretty awesome.”

He looks at your lips, raising your pulse with it.

“You know. I, theoretically, have one minute again”, he says, giving you puppy eyes.

You laugh because you love when he flirts. You set the wine aside, making grabby hands at him.

“Then come here and make it count.”

Yoongi sets the spoon aside, closing the distance. How he is going to make it count.

518 notes · View notes

mintmatcha · 2 months ago

Note

OMG MINT please continue bc kiri saying again … was he picking up the pieces before w reader ??

cw: Reader is a high school in this part, reader is said to not be conventionally attractive.

Kirishima remembers the first time Sero ever saw you.

He's fumbling with his key ring in the most obvious way he can, letting it swing and jingle around his fingers.

"My parent's won't be back until late tonight, so we can do whatever." Kirishima isn't one to brag, but there's still something cool about being a latchkey kid. He doesn't have Bakugo's big house or all of Denki's gaming systems, but he's got the coolest hang out spot because he has all the privacy they could ever need.

"You bozos should actually study this time-" Bakugo says, slinging his backpack across his shoulders.

Denki groans. "You're so lame-"

"Your grades are lame!"

Kirishima unlocks the door to the apartment when another door across the hall opens. He doesn't turn at first, thinking it's just Mr. Yagami leaving for the night shift-

"Eijiro-"

Kirishima turns at the sound of your voice. Catty corner from him, you're halfway out of your apartment door, still dressed in your wrinkled school uniform. The smile you flash him is timid, mostly covered up the doorframe.

"Hold on, guys."

He walks over to you with a little wave and you produce a familiar set of containers, perfectly cleaned and polished, just like always.

"Tell your mom thank you," you mumble, adjusting your glasses as you speak. Kirishima thinks it's weird that you're being so quiet today, but then your eyes flicker to the group behind him. School's hard for you, he thinks, the other kids aren't very nice to you most of the time. At least, that's what his mom says when you aren't around.

"It was really good, thank you."

"Yeah, don't mention it," Kirishima points back to his gaggle of boys. "These are my friends from school, by the way. Bakugo, Denki, and the tall one's Sero. They're all really cool."

Your face goes weird when he says Sero's name. Not sour or stressed or something he knows, just... funny. Like you've swallowed a lemon whole.

"I'm the only cool one here," Bakugo says.

"Aw, don't listen to this big grump-" Sero throws an arm around Bakugo. "We're pretty okay."

"Hi." With a little wave, you duck back inside your place and let the door close. Kirishima starts to go back to his friends, but for Sero to stop him.

"So, who was that?" Sero asks, a bit too interested for Kirishima's liking. Bakugo bumps his shoulder into the dark haired boy, then shoves his full body weight. Even when Sero stumbles, he keeps looking.

"She's cool, just super shy. My mom gives her food sometimes." He shakes the Tupperware for effect. "She lives by herself because her school's around here."

"Ask her to hang out with us," Sero says.

Denki groans again. "Why would we want some weirdo girl-?"

Sero's already slunk across the hall. Bakugo and Denki share a look and roll their eyes; last summer's growth spurt didn't only give Sero a couple extra inches of height-- it gave him too much confidence and too strong of an interest in girls. Denki could kind of relate, minus the confidence. Thankfully, Bakugo didn't seem to care about women at all.

(Kirishima was thankful for that.)

The blondes both go inside the apartment when Kirishina opens the door, but Sero has already knocked and peeled you out of your shell.

"Hey, we were just thinking-"

That funny look comes over you again- a strained, sloppy smile, own that-

It clicks in Kirishima's head the second Sero leans against the doorframe, one arm extended above his head. You think he's cute.

You think he's very cute.

Sero seems to know it, too.

"I- uh- I-" You're fumbling each word. "I have cram school-"

"Aww-" He runs a hand through his hair with a cool little smile. "What a bummer."

Kirishima's stomach twists at bit, mostly on instinct. He doesn't have strong feelings towards you or anything, but he suddenly feels a surge of protectiveness, like an older sibling watching the younger get whisked away.

You're not even cute, Kirishima thinks, not in the ways that Sero usually goes for. He usually goes for girls without glasses or braces, the types that win beauty pageants and don't have stutters-

Flirting with you just seems... cruel in comparison. It's a game he knows he can win.

492 notes · View notes

p0orbaby · 3 months ago

Text

Skeletons

summary: aitana has a secret that you’re reluctant to keep, but you do, because having her in private is better than not having her at all

warnings: angst, closeted relationship

a/n: inspired by this request ! fyi i’m not a massive fan of the ending so if you think it’s bad then your opinion is valid

word count: 4.9k

It’s been a long day, another day of tactical meetings and drills, the weight of another training session at Barça hanging heavy on your body. You sit beside Aitana in the lounge of her flat—everything pristine but minimal, almost impersonal, as if she's never spent enough time here to give it a real life. No personal touch to the decor, just basic furniture. A lamp that looks like it was picked because it was there and not because it meant anything. The kind of living space of someone who only ever comes home to sleep, or maybe to avoid something else. You think you know what that something else is, or maybe it’s just a suspicion that’s been gnawing at you for years, a quiet terror lodged deep in the center of you, almost as if it's waiting for something to happen. You’re pretty sure it's always been there.

You notice how she sits too close, legs curled beneath her on the sofa, leaning into you in that way she always does when she’s not really aware of it. Aitana’s always been like that—too close, too warm, her casual touches like a silent scream at the back of your mind—her fingers brushing your arm, her shoulder pressing lightly into yours, her laughter soft and private, like you’re the only one who could ever understand the joke, like she trusts you with something that’s too big for either of you to say out loud. It’s a proximity that drives you insane, but you’ve learned to live with it because there’s never been another option. Not really. Not when every look, every smile, every stupid moment of her being this…close keeps you on a knife's edge between bliss and misery.

She looks at you now with those eyes that you’ve memorised, those soft brown eyes that never stop searching, like she’s always trying to find the right words but can never quite get there. It’s a little terrifying, the way she looks at you sometimes. Like you’re the answer to something she hasn't quite plucked up the courage to ask yet.

“I’m glad you came over,” she says, her voice softer than usual, like she's thinking about something more serious but doesn't want to show it. Her hand is on your arm again, a casual thing, but it’s not casual, not to you. It hasn’t been casual for years.

You nod, biting back whatever sarcastic response you might’ve thrown out, because this—this moment feels like a delicate thread, as if one wrong move could break it. And you don’t want to break it. God, you don’t want to break it.

“Of course, I came over. You needed me, right?” you say, forcing a lightness into your voice that feels false, but you’re so used to this performance. It’s second nature. Being near her and pretending like it’s normal when your heart is pounding loud enough to deafen you.

“Yeah,” she says, but there’s something under that single word, something unsure. She leans back into the sofa cushions, and you feel the shift, the weight of her thigh brushing yours, your heart picking up speed even as you try to ignore it. You look at her, and she’s staring at the floor now, like she’s trying to figure something out but can’t bring herself to say it.

You’ve never been good with silence, not between the two of you, not when it feels like this, charged and dangerous, and you almost say something—anything—to break it, but she beats you to it.

“I’ve been thinking,” she says, her voice quiet, her gaze still on the floor. She shifts, her fingers tightening slightly on your arm, and your chest clenches, that familiar wave of something crashing over you. “About…stuff”

The vagueness of it should annoy you, but it doesn’t. Not when her voice sounds like this. Not when her whole body feels tense, like she’s holding something back.

“What kind of stuff?” you ask, keeping your tone casual, keeping the panic buried deep where it belongs. You can’t show it. You can’t let her see how much this is affecting you, how much every word out of her mouth feels like it could unravel you.

She finally looks up at you, and there’s something different in her eyes. Something you haven’t seen before, or maybe you’ve seen it a hundred times but you’ve never let yourself believe it could be real. Her gaze holds yours for a moment, and then she looks away again, biting her bottom lip like she’s nervous.

It’s not a look you see from Aitana often. She’s usually so sure of herself, so confident, even when she’s being quiet, even when she’s being thoughtful. But this—this feels different. She’s fidgeting now, her fingers tapping lightly against her knee, and you can’t help but watch her, trying to figure out what’s going on in her head, trying not to let yourself hope. Because hope is dangerous. Hope is a trap you’ve fallen into too many times, and every time you climb out of it, it feels like it just leaves you more bruised.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” she says, and her voice is so soft now, so fragile. It’s like she’s terrified of what she’s about to say, and that terrifies you because Aitana is never terrified.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “What’s up?” you ask, trying to sound calm, even though your heart is racing and there’s a knot forming in your stomach.

She hesitates for a moment, and then she reaches up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous habit you’ve seen a thousand times but never thought much about until now, when everything about her feels heightened, like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again.

“I…” She stops, her voice faltering, and then she takes a deep breath, forcing the words out like they’ve been stuck inside her for too long. “I think I might like someone”

Your chest tightens. This is it. The moment you’ve always dreaded. The moment where she tells you about some guy—some random guy she’s fallen for, the guy she’s going to love the way you wish she would love you.

“Oh,” you say, and it comes out flat, empty. You don’t trust yourself to say anything else.

But she doesn’t look at you. Not yet. Her fingers are still tapping against her knee, her eyes still fixed somewhere just past your shoulder.

“It’s… weird,” she continues, her voice wavering, and now she’s biting her lip again, harder this time, and you can see the tension in her jaw. “Because I didn’t think I’d ever feel like this about…a girl”

Your heart stops. You freeze. Every part of you goes still as her words sink in, slow and heavy, like they’re not quite real. Like they can’t be real.

But she’s still talking, her voice shaky, her eyes finally meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability there, the uncertainty, the fear that she’s saying something wrong, something that’s going to ruin everything. And suddenly you’re not breathing, not thinking, not doing anything except sitting there, staring at her, because what else can you do? What can you say when the thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly, inexplicably, in front of you?

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispers, and now her hand is resting on your arm again, her fingers brushing your skin in a way that feels deliberate, feels like more than just a casual touch.

And you—God, you don’t know what to do either. You don’t know how to breathe, how to think, how to process what’s happening. Because this—this moment—is something you’ve imagined a thousand times in your head, something you’ve dreamed about but never really believed would happen.

But it is happening. Right now. Right in front of you.

You blink, your throat tight, your mind a mess of thoughts that don’t make any sense, and she’s still looking at you, still waiting for you to say something, do something, anything. But you can’t. You can’t because you’re terrified that if you move, if you speak, if you do anything, this moment will shatter and you’ll wake up and it’ll all be gone.

So you sit there, frozen, staring at her, trying to understand how you got here, trying to understand what this means, trying to understand her—Aitana, your best friend, the girl you’ve been in love with for what feels like forever.

And she’s looking at you like she’s scared. Scared of what you’ll say, scared of what you’ll do. But more than that, she looks scared of herself, of what she’s feeling. You can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the way she’s still not sure if this is okay, if she’s okay, if liking you—wanting you—is something she’s allowed to want.

“I’m scared,” she says softly, and it breaks you because Aitana doesn’t get scared. She’s brave. She’s fearless. She’s everything you’ve always wanted to be. And now she’s sitting here, vulnerable and uncertain, and you don’t know how to help her because you’re still trying to figure out how to help yourself.

But then she looks at you again, her eyes searching yours, and something shifts. Something clicks into place. And before you can stop yourself, before you can think about what you’re doing, you reach out and take her hand, your fingers lacing with hers, warm and steady and real.

“I’m here,” you say, your voice quiet but firm. “I’m not going anywhere”

And for the first time in what feels like forever, she smiles, just a little. A small, tentative smile, but it’s enough. It’s everything.

It starts slowly, like all dangerous things do. A late-night text that pulls you back to her place after training, her fingertips brushing your hand on the walk back from the gym, a lingering glance that lasts just a second too long when she thinks no one’s paying attention. You both fall into it like gravity’s pulling you, and for a while, it’s enough. Enough to have her behind closed doors, enough to know that, at least in those quiet moments between just the two of you, she’s yours.

But it’s also nothing like what you’d imagined all those years, lying in your own bed staring at the ceiling, wondering what it’d be like to have her next to you for real. It’s not perfect—it can’t be, not when everything has to be hidden. You’re still her best friend in public, the girl she spends all her time with, the girl who knows her better than anyone else. But not the girl she kisses when the cameras aren’t flashing, not the girl she pulls close when no one’s looking.

Those moments belong only to the nights when her guard is down, when her walls crumble and she lets you in, just for a few hours. It’s messy, but you’ve always known it would be. Aitana is nothing if not a contradiction—so sure of herself on the pitch, so certain of what she wants when it comes to football, but with this—with you—she’s hesitant. Insecure, even, and it’s a side of her you’re still learning how to navigate.

It’s late one night after another exhausting match, and she’s already taken her shower, her hair damp against the pillow as you lie beside her. Her apartment smells faintly of eucalyptus from the diffuser she never turns off, and the air between you feels heavy, like it always does after sex. Like there’s something unsaid just hanging there, but neither of you is brave enough to say it.

She’s resting her head on your chest, one arm draped lazily across your stomach, her fingers tracing absent patterns against your skin. And for a moment, everything is perfect. Just her and you, tangled together in her too-big bed, your bodies sore but comfortable in the way that only comes with familiarity. You feel her breath against your neck, steady and soft, and you close your eyes, trying to commit every second of this to memory. These are the moments you live for now.

But then she speaks, her voice low and hesitant, and you know what’s coming before she even says it.

“You know we can’t tell anyone, right?” Her fingers stop moving, and she lifts her head to look at you, her expression unreadable in the dim light. “Not yet”

It’s not the first time she’s said it, and it won’t be the last. You’ve had this conversation before, too many times to count. But each time, it feels like a fresh wound, like she’s cutting into you all over again with that same blunt blade. You want to tell her that it hurts, that it tears you apart every time she introduces you to someone as “just a friend” or dodges questions about her love life in interviews, leaving you wondering what it would feel like to be acknowledged, even just once.

But you don’t say that. You won’t. Because you know she’s scared. Scared of what it means, scared of what people will say, scared of admitting to herself that she’s not the person she thought she was. And you love her too much to push her. So instead, you nod, keeping your voice steady even though your chest feels like it’s caving in.

“Yeah, I know”

She sighs in relief, dropping her head back to your chest, her body relaxing against yours again. And just like that, the conversation is over. She’s yours again—for now, at least.

But there are moments, moments when the secret feels too heavy, too suffocating, and you don’t know how long you can keep carrying it without cracking under the pressure. It happens one day after a game, when the whole team goes out to celebrate a win, and you’re sitting at the bar, nursing a beer and trying to keep your distance. Because that’s what you do now. You keep your distance. You stay just close enough to be there for her, but never close enough to make anyone suspicious.

Aitana’s across the room, talking with a group of teammates, laughing at something Alexia says, and for a second, it’s like she forgets you’re even there. She’s in her element, charming and confident, the version of herself you’ve always admired. And when someone asks her about dating—probably joking, probably not thinking twice about it—you watch her laugh it off, deflecting like she always does.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone,” she says, so casually, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like you don’t exist. Like the nights you’ve spent together, wrapped up in each other, mean nothing.

It hits you harder than it should. Harder than it ever has before. And you know it’s not fair to feel like this—it’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to you. You knew what this was when you started, knew that it wasn’t going to be easy. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You drain the rest of your beer, the bitterness burning your throat, and get up to leave before anyone notices. Before she notices. You can’t sit there and watch her laugh and flirt with other people, pretending like she’s not going to go home with you tonight. Pretending like she’s not yours.

When you’re halfway to the door, you feel her hand on your arm, and you stop, turning to face her. She looks up at you, her expression soft, her eyes wide and questioning.

“Where are you going?” she asks, her voice low enough that no one else can hear. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

“I’m tired,” you say, not bothering to hide the edge in your voice. “I think I’ll head home”

Aitana frowns, her hand still on your arm, like she’s not ready to let you go yet. Like she can feel the shift, the tension simmering just beneath the surface. “I thought we’d—”

“I know,” you cut her off, not wanting to hear it. Not wanting to hear her try to make this okay when it’s not. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

You pull away from her, walking out into the cool night air, your heart pounding in your chest. You need space. You need air. You need time to remember why you’re doing this, why you’re putting yourself through this, why you keep coming back to her even when it hurts.

And later, when you’re lying in your own bed, staring up at the ceiling again, you remind yourself of all the reasons why. The way she looks at you when no one’s watching. The way she holds you close at night, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear. The way she whispers your name in the dark, her voice soft and vulnerable in a way it never is around anyone else.

She’s worth it, you tell yourself. She’s worth the pain, the hiding, the pretending. Because you have her. Maybe not in the way you always dreamed, but you have her.

It’s an away game in Seville, the kind where the atmosphere is tense but electric, the city vibrating with the weight of the upcoming match. The hotel isn’t much, just another chain where the carpets smell faintly of stale cigarettes and overuse. You’re in one of those rooms that looks exactly the same as all the others, sterile and impersonal—off-white walls, a single window overlooking the car park, a television bolted to the wall like an afterthought. But right now, none of that matters.

Aitana’s there with you, her back pressed against the cheap headboard, her hair a tangled mess around her face. She’s just come out of the shower, skin still damp and smelling like hotel soap, and there’s something reckless in her eyes tonight, something unspoken simmering between you both. There’s always been that quiet, dangerous tension with her, like you’re both walking a line neither of you knows how to stay on.

You hadn’t planned for this. Maybe you never plan for it. It’s just a hunger that’s become second nature, something that overtakes you both when you’re alone together, something neither of you can resist. Her lips had found yours the moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind you, the match tomorrow the last thing on either of your minds. You’re supposed to be resting, supposed to be saving your energy for the game, but there’s always this with her, this fever that takes over when you’re in the same room.

It doesn’t take long before you’re pulling her close, her fingers digging into your back, her breath hot against your neck as you press her against the mattress. The room feels like it’s spinning, like it’s just you and her and nothing else matters. And the noise—God, you can’t help the sounds she makes when you touch her, the way she bites back a moan, then gives up, letting it out like a release of all the tension she’s been holding in. The bed creaks beneath you, too loud in the silence of the hotel, but neither of you care. It’s too late to care.

You lose track of time. You lose track of everything except the feel of her beneath you, the way her body responds to yours, the way she whispers your name like it’s the only word she knows. And for that stretch of time—however long it is—she’s yours, wholly and completely. There’s no team, no match, no world outside this room. It’s just her, and you, and the way she looks at you when she lets her guard down, when she lets herself need you.

But then there’s a knock at the wall, followed by a muffled voice that snaps you both back to reality. You freeze, still half-entangled with her, your breath ragged, your heart pounding.

“Oye! Quiet down in there!” someone yells through the wall. The voice is too familiar—Pina, or maybe Patri—it doesn’t matter who it is. The point is, they’ve heard. The walls are paper-thin, you realise, and you hadn’t exactly been discreet.

You scramble off her, untangling yourself from the sheets, and for a moment, the only sound is your own breathing, loud in the sudden silence. Aitana’s eyes are wide, her face flushed, her bare chest rising and falling rapidly, and you can see the panic starting to creep in. Not panic because they know—no, they don’t know who she is. Panic because they think it’s just another random hookup. Another girl you picked up on a whim.

There’s another knock, louder this time, more insistent. “We get it! You’ve got company,” someone calls, laughing now, their voice tinged with amusement. “Didn’t know you’d have a guest tonight”

You let out a breath, already slipping into the familiar role. The one where you play it off like this is nothing. Like this is just another night, just another girl. You’ve done it so many times before—it’s a routine at this point. The jokes, the teasing, the knowing looks from your teammates when they hear about another one of your so-called conquests. It’s all part of the act, the persona you’ve built to cover for what’s really going on.

You flash a quick smile at Aitana, hoping to reassure her, but the look she gives you is anything but reassured. It’s tight, like she’s barely holding it together. You ignore it for now, your mind racing for the right thing to say.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry about that,” you call back, trying to keep your voice light, casual, like you’re not lying through your teeth. “I’ll keep it down. Promise”

There’s more laughter from the other side of the wall, some muttered jokes about your reputation, about your ‘lucky night,’ but eventually it quiets down. They’re not going to press you. They never do. You’ve always been able to laugh it off, always been able to make it seem like none of it matters.

But when you turn back to Aitana, you see the way her eyes have gone dark, her face tight with something that looks like pain, like anger. She’s pulling the sheets up around her, suddenly closed off, like she’s trying to build a wall between you both.

“You okay?” you ask, your voice low, tentative. You reach for her, but she pulls away, sitting up straighter, wrapping the sheet tighter around herself.

There’s a heaviness to the air that wasn’t there before, a weight that settles between the two of you. It’s in the way she’s breathing—slow, measured—like she’s thinking too hard, like she’s bracing herself for something. You glance over at her, half-expecting her to meet your gaze with that teasing smile she always gives after moments like this, but her face is turned toward the ceiling, eyes wide and distant, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Aitana?” you say softly, your voice barely cutting through the thick quiet. You can feel the tension in your chest start to coil, tight and uneasy.

She doesn’t respond right away, and when she finally does, her voice is quieter than you expect, almost tentative, like she’s not sure how to say what’s on her mind. “You didn’t have to do that,” she says, still staring up at the ceiling, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the sheet.

You frown, sitting up a little, trying to make sense of what she means. “Do what?”

“Cover for me.” She says it so softly, like it’s a secret, like it’s something she’s ashamed of, but not in the way you’re used to. Not the shame of being found out. This is different, quieter, heavier. “I know why you did it, but… you didn’t have to”

You blink, thrown off for a second. “You mean… when they knocked on the wall?”

She nods, slowly, her eyes finally drifting from the ceiling to meet yours. There’s something in her eyes that makes your heart drop, something that feels like guilt, but not the kind that comes from getting caught. It’s the kind that lingers, the kind that’s been building for a while.

“I know it’s stupid,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper now, her fingers still moving in that absent way across the sheets, like she’s trying to distract herself from what she’s saying. “I know it’s just how it is. But… when you said that, when you acted like it was someone else, it just—it felt wrong”

You can feel your chest tighten, the words sinking in, slow and heavy. You want to tell her that you had to, that it’s how you’ve always handled it, that you were just trying to protect her. But the way she’s looking at you now, her eyes soft but resolute, makes you pause. She’s not angry. She’s not hurt, not the way you thought she might be. She’s just… sad. Sad that you feel like you need to keep pretending, like you need to keep covering for her.

“I didn’t think it’d bother you,” you say, and it sounds like an excuse as soon as it leaves your mouth, even though it’s the truth. You’ve done this so many times before, played it off like it’s nothing. It’s always been your way of protecting her, of protecting what the two of you have.

“I know you didn’t.” She sits up then, pulling her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them as she looks at you. Her hair falls over her face, messy and damp, and she brushes it aside absently, not really paying attention to it. “But that’s the thing. You shouldn’t have to. Not anymore”

There’s a beat of silence, the words hanging in the air between you. You sit up straighter, searching her face, trying to understand exactly what she’s saying. You’ve had this conversation before, or at least versions of it. But it’s never felt like this. It’s never felt like it’s this close to something real, something neither of you can take back.

“What do you mean?” you ask, your voice cautious, like you’re afraid to push her too far, to make her retreat behind that wall she’s so good at building.

Aitana lets out a slow breath, her eyes not leaving yours. “I mean… I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of being a secret. And I’m tired of making you cover for me like you’re ashamed of what we have.” Her voice is steady, but there’s a vulnerability in it that catches you off guard, something raw and exposed. “I don’t want to do that to you anymore.”

You stare at her, your heart pounding, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. You’ve always been the one to take the fall, to laugh off the questions, to keep up the charade. You’ve always thought you were doing it for her—because she wasn’t ready, because she needed more time. But now, sitting here, looking at her, you realize that maybe you’ve been doing it for yourself too. Maybe you’ve been hiding just as much as she has, afraid of what it would mean to actually be out there, to actually be seen.

“Aitana…” you start, but she cuts you off, her voice soft but firm.

“I know it won’t be easy,” she says quickly, like she’s already thought this through a thousand times. “I know people will talk, and it’ll be… hard. But I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to hide us. I don’t want you to pretend like I’m just someone you picked up or some random girl in your bed. I’m more than that. I’ve always been more than that”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and for a second, you don’t know how to respond. You’ve spent so long keeping this part of you hidden, keeping this relationship in the shadows, that the idea of stepping out into the light feels… terrifying. But at the same time, hearing her say it, hearing her admit that she’s ready—that she wants to be open—it makes something inside you shift, something that feels like hope.

“Are you sure?” you ask, your voice quieter now, more careful. You don’t want to push her, don’t want to rush her into something she’s not ready for, even though every part of you is screaming to say yes, to finally stop hiding.

She nods, her eyes steady, her expression soft but sure. “I’m sure.” She reaches out then, her hand finding yours, her fingers threading through yours with a quiet certainty. “I don’t want to hide anymore. Not from them, not from anyone.”

You feel the weight of her words settle over you, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like you can breathe. Like the walls you’ve both built are finally starting to come down.

“I don’t want you to hide either,” you admit, the words coming out easier than you thought they would. And it’s true. You’re tired of pretending too, tired of covering for something that’s real, something that’s yours.

Aitana smiles then, a small, tentative smile, but there’s something bright behind it, something that makes your chest ache in the best possible way. She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours, her breath warm against your lips.

“So… I’ll tell them,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, but filled with a kind of quiet determination that makes you believe her.

“No,” you whisper back, your heart pounding, your hand tightening around hers. “We’ll tell them”

#aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

511 notes · View notes

twizzie-lairs · 11 months ago

Text

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 11)

Have a nice big chapter/part for the weekend! :D

Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Part 11:

Did.. did Charlie just say... Alastor?

You felt someone poke your face, multiple times, all at once, "Hey, Hey, miss bandage face, you good?"

You blink rapidly, being pulled out of your stupor and laugh awkwardly, "Ah haha, uh yeah. Yup, I'm good... Haha, thanks Angel.."

Angel just squints at you, not convinced of your act at all but just sighs and says, "Alright, whatever you say, weirdo.." and then returns back to chatting with Husk.

Vaggie, who was sitting next to you struck up a conversation, "Are you really sure you're okay to be up and around already? You look like you saw a ghost or something."

You briefly glanced at the radio that was sitting on the mantle on the wall before returning your attention to Vaggie, "Yeah, being up was much better than sitting doing nothing, I thought I was going to waste away if I didn't do something."

Vaggie sighs and nods her head, "I know the feeling."

"And.. I swear I thought I heard Charlie mention the name Al-"

"Alastor! You're back! We have a new guest staying at the hotel! Come say hi!" Charlie shot out of her seat as soon as she saw Alastor's shadows start to manifest, signaling his return.

You felt your blood run cold as your suspicions were confirmed. Yes, she just said Alastor. How common could that name be down here? This is just a coincidence, surely- Of all names!

"My, my dear Charlie, you seem quite excited! I haven't seen you bouncing off the walls like this in ages!" Alastor chuckles as he allows Charlie to practically drag him over by the wrist to the group.

He sounds like a radio host...

Your breath starts to quicken as Charlie guides him over to you, his aura feels so oppressive, unlike any Overlord you had ever met before... But what made your hair really stand on the back of your neck was the static noise that filled the air as he got closer. You felt your eyes shake and your gut sink in your stomach.

What was this feeling?

You gulp and look up, eyes wide, looking like a deer in headlights as you make eye contact with this "Alastor".

"Go on! Introduce yourself!" You felt Charlie nudge you excitedly, in an attempt to nudge you out of your frozen state.

On his face, a large, creepy grin/smile- (if you could even call it that) grew even larger on his face - a feat you didn't even know was possible. You felt like you should be scared but then... It dawned on you.

That feeling in your gut dissipated instantly and it felt like a weight got suddenly lifted off your chest.

This was Alastor. This was your Alastor.

Tears start rolling down your face uncontrollably as your body is racked with sobs.

"Heyyy! Hey! It's okay, (y/n)! I know Al can be a wee bit intimidating sometimes but I promise he's not a bad guy! Well... mostly.. haha..." Charlie trails off with a nervous chuckle as she scrambles around the lobby to find you some tissues to dry your tears.

Upon hearing your name said out loud, a loud record scratch filled the air.

"Haha... ha...Charlie, dearest! My, you'd think the years are catching up to me! Was that some sort of joke? Why, I didn't know you wanted to become a comedian! Did you say.. (y/n)? That must be a mistake. I've only ever known one person by that name and they surely couldn't have ended up in Hell of all places!" Alastor chuckles, the laugh track coming from his staff warping as he hovers over Charlie with an intimidating aura- thinking she was playing some sort of sick joke on him.

Charlie whips around to see Alastor up in her face and then she scrambles back, "Woah! What? Alastor! Gods, no, why would I joke about our new guest? That would go against everything i'm trying to do here!"

Alastor's gaze darts over to you, "You see, I think this '(y/n)' and I need to have a chat..." His eyes narrow as he makes quotation marks with his fingers as he says your name.

He walks towards you and grabs your wrist with force, finger like claws starting to dig into your arm- despite protest from Charlie and Vaggie to let you go- to stop harassing their new guest because you were still quite injured and fragile. Even Angel and Husk got up from their seats at the bar after hearing the commotion in the lounge and started yelling at him to stop hurting you because it was very apparent that you were in pain with how rough he was handling you.

Then, with a snap, he teleports you and himself up to his radio tower- away from all the commotion.

Alastor slams the door shut with a fury that you've never seen before, and locks it to make sure you won't even try to make a feeble attempt at an escape.

He was powerful. Alastor knew he didn't really need to lock the door because with his power, he could vaporize you before you even thought of making a dash for the door. He did it as an intimidation tactic because he knew the fear it instilled in his prey.

Now, walking towards you, he pointed his staff at your chest, and leaned in close to your face. Strange static and symbols fill the air as he and his antlers grow in size, towering over you.

"Now... who are you really? You get one chance to make a feeble excuse before I kill you and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear, for making a mockery of my dear (y/n) by taking the name of my beloved and masquerading around Hell- thinking you can show up here like this to try and mess with ME- tHe RaDiO DEMON."

You see dark shadows and tentacle-like masses appear, and you stumble backward until your back hits a wall, never breaking eye contact with him- your lip quivering in fear.

"I.. But- It... is me...hun... I missed you so much..." You whisper with a somber smile that's quickly warped into an ugly crying face. The unrelenting tears keep rolling down your face, and your left hand reaches up towards his even more demonically altered form that towers over you in a desperate attempt to get him to recognize you.

Before you can touch his face, one of his hands snatches your wrist and pulls it closer to himself to examine the sparkle that caught his eye as you started to reach out to him, roughly jostling you and lifting you up in the air by your wrist as a result.

You wince briefly at the pain in your wrist and shoulder joints as he examines your hand when you remember you were wearing your ring. You never took it off all these years.

You could hear his breath hitch just ever so slightly over the static as he gently put you down and let your feet touch the floor again.

Alastor realized that the ring on your left ring finger was the exact one he had gotten for you- the one he put on your ring finger right before he buried you right the night you were brutally assaulted and murdered back when he was alive.

He slowly morphed back into his "normal" form. (Normal for Hell, that is, this was an entirely new look for him from what you remembered when he was alive).

The shock dawning on him that it really was you was apparent as he took a few steps back, still holding your hand. He looked at you in disbelief, the look of pure shock was just like how you had looked at him initially in the lobby.

Then suddenly, he pulled you into a warm embrace, "My dearest... I am so sorry for hurting you. My darling... whatever are you doing here? Someone like you doesn't belong here!"

Now, holding your face in both of his hands, he wiped your tears with the most gentle expression on his face, a stark contrast from the nightmarish demonic one just a moment ago. and you could almost swear you could see the slightest traces of a misty look in his eyes as he held you.

His claw-like fingers slightly dug into your face, but not enough to hurt, as he examined your new appearance, his gaze turning from soft into a hardened expression once again. Almost snarling, he began to ask you again, "Tell me, darling, tell me the name of the gods forsaken angel bastard that cast you down from Heaven. I will find a way to make them pay. I'll make them ALL pay for this... NO ONE will ever harm you again..." The strange symbols and glitchy auras were threatening to come out again.

You sniffled, still trying to calm down your tears, which immediately made him halt in his tracks and turn his attention back to you at this moment.

You looked at the ground, and you knew you couldn't avoid this conversation forever, "Hun... I... Before we met... there was something I never told you-" Before you could finish, you felt your legs start to wobble underneath you- the adrenaline was starting to fade and you were starting to feel some of the pain from your previous injuries come back to you.

"Please, my love, take a seat first." He guided you to a set of a table and two chairs. Ever the gentleman, he pulled your chair out for you and helped made sure you were alright before he sat down across the table from you.

You put your hands on the table, a signal he immediately picked up on as a sign to envelop your hands in his. You looked at him in the eyes with a look of shame that scrunched up your face as you prepared to tell him the truth, "Alastor, hun... I never went to Heaven..."

You swore you heard another record scratch before a quiet hum of static filled the air again. Alastor chuckled, "Oh my dear, never lost your sense of humor, I see!"

A look of even deeper shame washes over your face as you break eye contact with him and stare at his hands that held your's on the table, "It's true. Alastor..." You sigh deeply, feeling an aching pain in your chest, not only from your injuries but also from the mental anguish you were dealing with as you shakily begin to explain everything about your past. Your shitty family and messed-up inlaws. Your narcissistic, unloving, and abusive ex-husband that you killed.

You painstakingly revealed every single minute detail. You told him everything.

-> Part 12

Tag List:

@mysticwitchcraftco @lil-bexie @lonely-burger @cherry-cola-100 @angelxx7 @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @avitute @justhellacesome @mcrtrashfan @spookysisters

2K notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 4 months ago

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Eleven.

previous chapter (10). series masterlist. the playlist.

chapter synopsis - There’s no denying it anymore - not that you’d want to. You and Bucky fit together in every sense of the word.

pairing - dads bestfriend!bucky barnes x female reader - soulmate au

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. harassment, and then conversations surrounding past incidents of harassment. bucky calls reader a whore (not viciously).

word count - 5.3k

authors note - this is a long one!! I got a bit carried away with the smut, but honestly… it was a little overdue. I needed bucky and honey to get a little down and dirty sometime soon, and there’s no time like the present. as always - your love and support is invaluable to me, and i’d be nowhere without it. love you <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

masterlist. inbox.

Your hips sway gently to the music that plays as you watch your own reflection in the mirror. Sweeping a makeup brush across your cheeks, you laugh as Bucky presses open mouthed kisses to your bare shoulder.

“Getting ready takes ten times longer when you’re here, you know.”

Your soulmate laughs, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling your back into his chest as he sways with you.

“You love it,” he murmurs into your ear. “You got a lifetime of this, honey. Get used to it.”

“God help me,” you giggle, squealing as he pinches your side. “I’m never going to get anywhere on time ever again, am I?”

“Worth it though.”

He winks at you in the mirror, and you can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. Spinning in his arms, you lean up to press a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Luckily for you, Lacie is the worst person at being on time. I actually don’t think she’s been punctual to anything, ever. You have to tell her six if you want her to be there at eight.”

“I like her more every time you tell another story.”

“I feel like I should warn you.”

“Uh oh.”

You fight back the smile threatening to take over your face.

“She means well. She’s got a heart of gold, and good intentions always. She’s just… blunt, sometimes. She doesn’t mess around, or avoid the tough conversations. She’ll always tell you exactly how it is. And sometimes that can come across as rudeness, or that she’s a little… prickly? But she’s not, I promise.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I get it. And I trust your judgement, always. You’re a good judge of character - I’ve never doubted that. She loves you and she wants to protect you, and so do I. I think you’ll find we have a lot more in common than you think.”

“I hope so. This is kind of a huge deal for me. And the more I think about it, the more worried I get.”

“Worried about what, honey?”

Bucky leans back against your dresser, using his hands on your hips to keep you against his front. You tilt into his body, resting your head on his chest.

“That you won’t like each other, or something. Which is stupid, I know. But the two of you mean so much to me, and I can’t lose either of you, and I just…”

“You’re spiralling.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Yeah.”

“We’re gonna have a fun night, okay? If you put too much pressure on it, it’ll crumble under its own weight. Just breathe, baby. It’s dinner and drinks. Nothing you haven’t done before.”

“Dinner and drinks.”

“Exactly. Thankfully, actually, because I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.”

“You know me so well.”

He chuckles as he leans down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. It ruins what was left of your lip gloss, but you don’t mind.

“It’s us against the world, remember? That includes double dates.”

You shake your head, scoffing as you break away to pull your shoes onto your feet. Taking a step back, you check your reflection in the mirror, not missing the way Bucky’s eyes follow the shape of your body all the way down and back up again.

“Quit that.”

“Quit what?”

“That, Barnes.”

“What, honey girl?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

You grab your purse and your jacket, giving him a once over to make sure he’s ready.

“We need to go. We actually should have left about ten minutes ago, but someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“You want an encore?”

He lurches forward, fingers digging into your sides as you thrash in his hold. Your knees buckle as the tickling continues, punching at his biceps to get him to stop. You finally break away, panting as you keep him at arms length.

“Pull that shit again and I will kill you, James. You hear me?”

“I’m so scared,” he jokes, laughing infectiously.

You grin as you push him out of the door, shaking your head as you do it.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The restaurant Lacie has picked is perfect.

It’s a place the two of you have been to many times - intimate but not too quiet. It’s all candlelight and real wood and big, open windows. You can hear the sound of chatter and laughter from down the street, warm and inviting.

A wave of nostalgia overcomes you as you stand on the sidewalk and wait for your best friend. You spent your 21st birthday here with Lacie, getting drunk on sweet cherry cocktails and dipping pieces of fresh bread in olive oil to soak up the alcohol. The entire night consisted of giggling and gossiping, until you’d wobbled home in your high heels, hands tightly clasped together just like when you were kids. You both fell asleep tangled in Lacie’s pink ruffled bedsheets, cuddled up and wearing your old matching Looney Tunes pyjamas.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty head of yours?” Bucky asks, swinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Just thinking about all the nights me and Lacie have spent here. We’d always order the Cocktail of the Day, no matter what it was. Sometimes it was the best thing we’d ever drank, sometimes it was so vile we’d down it in one to get it over with.”

He laughs all deep and hearty, the sound vibrating through you where you’re pressed into his side. You’re looking down the street when you hear a shout from the opposite direction.

“Is that my bestie and her soulmate I see? Looking hot as ever?”

“Yeah, baby!”

You start walking towards her voice, grinning as you go. She holds out her arms, bracing herself when you run into them.

Lacie hugs you like she hasn’t seen you in years - and honestly, it kind of feels like it. She squeezes you as tightly as she can, cutting off your oxygen supply. You don’t mind one bit, squeezing her back just as tightly.

You hook your chin over her shoulder to see Bucky and Cameron shaking each other’s hands, going through first meeting formalities. Breaking away from Lacie, you pull her soulmate into a friendly hug that he reciprocates eagerly.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” he smiles, linking his hand with Lacie’s as if he’s scared to be apart from her for too long.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” you repeat, leaning into the warmth of Bucky’s hand on the small of your back.

“It’s true, she has. Probably too much,” Lacie laughs, guiding you all to the hostess at the front door.

You’re seated outside, on the terrace with a gorgeous view of the coastline. It’s breezy but not windy, warm but not hot. It’s perfect. The sun is starting to begin its slow descent, and the orange glow lights up Bucky like he’s a heavenly being, some sort of celestial creature. It’s hard to read the drinks menu when all you want to do is stare at your soulmate for hours on end.

“Babe… shall we get a cocktail of the day?”

“You remembered!”

“Of course I did,” your best friend giggles, kicking your shin under the table. “Remember that one that was full of rose petals, and we kept accidentally eating them?”

“Or the one with the sour sugar on the rim? Must have been the most sour thing I’ve ever tried.”

“This isn’t filling me with hope,” Cameron chuckles, setting down his menu to put his trust in Lacie anyway.

The waitress brings over four pink cocktails in rocks glasses, popping straws in them when she reaches the table.

“Cherry and lemon,” she informs you. “It’s delicious.”

She’s right. It’s definitely one of the, if not the best cocktail you’ve ever had in this place - a million times better than the rose petal one. When you’ve all ordered your food, conversation turns to the elephant in the room. Soulmates.

“So you guys were strangers, right?” Bucky asks the two people across from you.

They both instantly light up, ecstatic to be able to tell their story.

“Complete strangers. We’d never met each other in our lives. I walked into the gym as usual, and there he was. All gorgeous and tanned and tattooed and muscled.”

They interlink their fingers, beaming at each other.

“I could see it all instantly,” Cameron takes over. “Living together, marriage, kids, the rest of our lives. It was like a vision, this prediction of what’s to come on a big screen in my mind.”

He leans in to kiss Lacie, all tender and so full of love. Anyone within a fifty mile radius can feel their connection.

“So, Lacie said you guys already knew each other?”

You knew this line of questioning would happen sooner or later, but you didn’t realise just how nervous it’d make you feel. Bucky senses your anxiety instantly, wrapping his fingers around yours under the table. His thumb rubs gentle circles into the back of your hand, the familiar and comforting motion calming you down easily.

“Uh, yeah. We’d known each other for a few years. He’s my dad’s best friend.”

“Oh, shit. I mean Lacie explained back when you told her, but that’s so… complicated. How did your parents take it?”

“We… don’t know,” Bucky explains. “We haven’t exactly had that conversation yet.”

“But you guys have been soulmates for like two years, right?”

“It’s been complicated, like you said,” you pick up. “I wasn’t home for a lot of it, I was back in California for work. And we tried to tell them, but my Dad got sick, and then it turns out that they actually already knew. So, maybe in hindsight, complicated is actually an understatement.”

Lacie laughs with nothing but love in her eyes, stepping on your foot affectionately in a gesture of solidarity.

“Told you they were complex, Cam.”

“A lot more complex than us, lovebug,” he chuckles.

“You hear that, baby?” Bucky leans over to whisper in your ear. “We’re complex.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whisper back, turning your head to press a kiss into his jaw.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The food is divine.

It’s all small plates, Mediterranean inspired and delicious. Seafood, charred vegetables, beautiful mixes of herbs spices with everything doused in olive oil and balsamic.

“Holy shit. I don’t think I can eat for a week after this.”

“You gonna have to unbuckle that designer belt of yours, Cameron?”

You’re met with a cacophony of laughter and shaking heads.

“I like her,” he tells Lacie with a smile. “I see why you two work.”

“Aha, I’ve earned the Cameron seal of approval! Hear that, Lace? He likes me.”

“Oh god. My bestie and my soulmate are gonna be friends. There are so many embarrassing stories that are going to be shared, aren’t there?”

“So many,” you and Cameron say in unison.

Lacie’s shaking her head but she can’t stop laughing, buzzed off of the speciality cocktails and the joy of having her favourite people get along.

“Okay, okay, before we get into that,” she intervenes, “we’re having brunch with my sisters and their soulmates tomorrow. So I hate to be a buzzkill… but I’m gonna have to cut this short, before we pass the point of hungover beyond return.”

“Say hi to them for me, won’t you? I haven’t seen them in so long.”

“Laura’s getting married in a few months - I’ll make sure you two get an invite. They’d love to see you again soon, they both ask about you all the time.”

“Sounds perfect.”

You say your goodbyes, hugs and promises to see each other as soon as possible exchanged with love and excitement.

“I’m moving into Cameron’s place finally, and I’m gonna need your help decorating, babe. Will you come shopping with me sometime this week? I trust your taste.”

“Of course, Lace. I’d love to. Just text me, and we’ll arrange something.”

She presses a lipgloss stained kiss to your cheek, smelling like strawberries and giggles from your childhood.

“Bye, you two! So lovely to see you again, Bucky.”

“You too, Lacie. Good to see you guys, and good to finally meet you, Cam.”

“Cam,” Lacie whispers to you. “They’re besties already.”

You can’t help but laugh, waving them off with Bucky’s hand entangled with yours. After they’ve gone, you both sit back down at the table, exhaling.

“See? Wasn’t as bad as you thought, right?”

“I never thought it’d be bad,” you tease. “Just thought it’d be… intense. Which it was, but in a good way, I think.”

“You wanna have a drink just the two of us? Then we can go home, get into our pyjamas, rewatch an episode or two of Twin Peaks.”

“Sounds perfect,” you assure, standing up to press a quick kiss to his cheek before getting ready to make your way to the bar. “The usual, my love?”

“Surprise me, honey.”

You saunter inside, leaving Bucky sitting pretty on the balcony. The breeze gently blows the linen of his shirt, billowing the material and making him look like an angel.

“Can I get two old fashioneds when you get the chance? Thank you.”

The bartender nods her head at you, giving you a gentle smile before turning away to make your drinks. You take a seat on a stool, resting your feet in your heels for a moment.

“Excuse me?”

A pause.

“Excuse me, miss?”

A man slides into the stool next to you, tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were talking to me.”

“I don’t usually do this, but I saw you across the room and just had to tell you that you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You spin around in your place to get a good look at the man who’s speaking. He’s only got a few inches of height on you, but he’s built stocky and strong, with a certain glimmer in his eyes that leaves a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Uh, thank you. That’s kind.”

You try to spin back around, but a clammy hand wraps itself around your forearm, effectively stopping you.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Sorry, sweet thing. Just wanted to talk a little more.”

His voice is dripping with condescension, terribly masking venom and ill intent. The whole situation feels tense and too charged, and you’re desperate to find a way out without upsetting him. You look over to the bartender, trying to catch her attention.

“So you’re here by yourself? Pretty girl like you, you shouldn’t be alone. You don’t know who’s around.”

Your heartbeat picks up, hairs on the back of your neck standing at attention. You’re screaming to Bucky in your mind, begging for him to sense your unease as soon as possible. This man still has a grip on your arm, his other hand moving to rest on your thigh. A cold chill overcomes you, and you know it isn’t from the ocean breeze.

“I’m here with my boyfriend,” you choke out. “He’s waiting for me.”

“Really?” he asks, squeezing his grip tighter. “Where?”

“Right here.”

A familiar voice booms from behind you, rumbling through your bones. You exhale shakily, desperate to turn around but unable to.

“This your daddy, sweet thing?”

“He’s my boyfriend, actually.”

Your voice is shaking, and Bucky hates how vulnerable you sound. You feel the sharp pang of sadness stab through his chest momentarily.

“Take your hands off the lady, asshole. Now.”

When the man doesn’t move, Bucky steps in, plastering himself to your back.

“I won’t ask again,” he reiterates, tone deep and low.

The man seems to get the message, judging by the way he slowly backs away from you. The minute he’s far enough away, Bucky slips a hand under your hair to hold the back of your neck, pulling you into his body. You melt into him, resting your head on his chest and breathing him in.

“Oh, your old fashioneds! I’ll start them now. Sorry!” you hear from behind the bar.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Bucky says over your head to the bartender. “We’re gonna get going.”

You assume she nods, because Bucky pulls you gently off your stool, leading you towards the door.

“Come on, angel,” he murmurs into your temple. “Let’s go home.”

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky’s hand doesn’t leave yours the entire way back to his house.

You both spend more time at your place than you do at his, so it makes a nice change. You love being here, because it is so completely enveloped by Bucky.

You see him everywhere. His favourite soft grey blanket strewn across the back of the couch, his handmade green mug that you bought him in California left ready on the counter by the coffee machine, the weathered and worn blue plaid pyjama pants he loves folded on the bed.

You hear him everywhere. The trees that he planted in the backyard rustling in the breeze, the soft hum of the refrigerator that he fixed himself six months ago, the reruns of vintage shows that play on the TV when he knows you need some background noise.

You smell him everywhere. The lingering scent of his cologne on every surface, his favourite laundry detergent that clings to his comforter even after he’s slept in it time and time again, the salt from the breeze that billows through the house when he leaves the windows open.

You feel him everywhere. The indent of where his head has laid on his pillows, the fingerprint shaped divots in the arm of the couch where he rests his hand as he watches a movie, the light switch in the hallway that has worn away due to him always pressing it with his elbow when he walks through the front door.

He’s in all four corners of this house, plastered all over it north, south, east and west. His very being lives in the walls, the floors, the ceilings. His spirit has cemented itself into the foundations, down through the Earth that it’s built on.

You couldn’t love it more if you tried.

And now, you see glimpses of you. Your toothbrush and shampoo in the bathroom, your mug waiting ready at the coffee machine, the smear of nail polish you accidentally spilled on the coffee table one evening that won’t quite come off. Your pyjamas folded next to his on the bed, your shoes next to his at the door, your socks next to his in the top drawer.

Neither of your places are yours or his, now. They belong to the two of you. You refer to my apartment as our apartment. He refers to his house as our house. You’re not sure when it began, but it’s happening more and more as of late. It makes you happy beyond words.

Your place, his place… doesn’t matter. Home is wherever you’re together.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky kneels in front of you where you sit on the edge of the bed, unbuckling your heels. He digs his thumbs into the bottom of your feet, releasing some of the tension firmly but carefully.

“You sure you’re okay, honey?”

“Yeah, Buck. I’m okay.”

You look down at him, caressing his stubbled cheek gently. He looks back up at you with those big blue eyes blown wide, so full of concern you can practically feel it buzzing around the room.

“If you wanna talk about it…”

“I know. I can talk to you about anything, baby. And I will, when I need to. Look… it was scary in the moment. But I also knew that you were on the terrace outside, and that you’d come and get me eventually. Plus, it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

He takes a pause, still working his thumb into your soles.

“You deal with this stuff a lot?” he asks after a moment.

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. All girls do. You know that.”

“I do. It’s just… I don’t know. It’s different, when it’s the person you love the most in the world.”

“I get that. It’s not different for us, though.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise, my love,” you whisper, tracing your fingertips across the features of his face. “You came along and saved me, so.”

“I would have come sooner, you know. I felt it in my chest pretty quick, but got stuck talking to a client of mine. I was inching away for so long before I had to just tell him to leave me alone.”

“It’s okay, we’re all okay. I don’t wanna focus on it. It’s done now.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to me anytime if you need to, though?”

“Promise,” you reassure, linking your pinky finger with his.

You both sit like that for a while, just thinking. You’re still tracing his face, following the beautiful lines and curves as if it’s a colouring book. Focusing on the warmth of his hands on you, you can’t help but let your mind wander to how he handled the guy at the bar. You’ve never seen him so assertive, almost threatening. And the more you think about it, the more you realise - you liked it. Obviously, the situation was unpleasant and far from ideal, but when you hone in on the way your soulmate swooped in to save you…

“What are you thinking about, pretty?” he asks, noticing the way your eyes have clouded over.

“Just the way you looked in that bar. All strong and domineering and in charge.”

“Yeah?”

There’s a dirty smirk making his way onto his handsome face, all mischievous and cunning.

“Yeah. You walked in and saved me like it was nothing. I felt so safe, with the hottest guy in the world protecting me.”

You dance your fingertips across Bucky’s face, tracing his bottom lip.

“I could have killed him,” he murmurs, nipping at the pad of your thumb. “Touching what’s mine.”

Oh. You’ve never heard him speak about you like this, but you’re glad you’re already sitting down - otherwise you’d be melting into a puddle on the ground.

“Mhmm? Yours?”

“You know you’re mine, angel. I have no doubts about that.”

The juxtaposition of it all is making your head spin. Bucky is knelt below you, looking up at you with his ocean blue eyes, but he’s still the one in charge. He’s the one making your knees buckle while his are digging into the carpet.

“I am yours,” you whisper.

“I know.”

His confidence is killing you. There’s sweat dripping down your back already, a bead of it slowly trickling down the curves of your spine. Your chest heaves as you refuse to break eye contact, desperately anticipating his next move.

“You like me like this, don’t you, honey? Sat at your feet, watching you, ready to do whatever you want. Do you even know how much power you hold? Do you even understand the things I would do for you?”

You might pass out if he keeps talking like this. To shut him up, you shove your thumb into his mouth, groaning when he laves over it with his tongue.

“I’ll give you anything,” he mumbles around your digit. “Just say the words.”

“Want you to fuck me,” you choke out.

“How?”

You press down on his tongue for a minute, taking a sick satisfaction in how his eyes water. There’s spit dripping down his chin and your wrist. It’s depraved. You want more.

“Like I’m yours.”

“Yeah?”

“Prove it. Show me. Make sure I don’t forget it.”

He bites down on your thumb before slipping it out of his mouth, licking a stripe from the bottom of it to the top.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “You don’t know what you’ve just asked for.”

He rises suddenly, pulling you off the bed by your arms so you’re standing in front of him. He takes your place at the edge of the mattress, and you realise that you never had the advantage you thought you did.

“Strip.”

You raise a brow at him, and the stormy look you receive in response makes you shut your mouth.

“I won’t ask again, angel. Strip.”

You go to reach for your hem when a hand darts out and catches yours.

“Ah ah ah. What’s the rush? Put on a show for me, baby. Come on.”

You slow right down, carefully undoing the zipper on your dress before gently pulling it up to underneath your chest. You don’t miss the way Bucky’s breath hitches at the sight of what you’ve had on underneath your outfit all night. You pull it up and over your head softly, standing in front of him in your lacy black underwear that you’ve been waiting to debut.

“Fuck, honey girl. Is that new?”

You only nod before stepping forward to stand in between his legs, smiling when his hands fly straight out to rest on your hips.

“You still want me to strip? Or shall I keep this on, let you enjoy it a little longer?”

“Keep it on,” he mumbles against your stomach, pressing kisses to any skin he can reach. “Wanna fuck you in it.”

“Where do you want me?”

“Everywhere.”

You laugh, leaning down to press your lips to his quickly.

“Come sit here,” he decides, patting his thighs.

You go to oblige but stop, pouting at Bucky where he looks up at you.

“What is it, baby?”

“This feels unfair,” you point at him. “You’re wearing all your clothes.”

“Which is the way it’ll stay, until I decide otherwise.”

With that he pulls you down into his lap, manoeuvring you so you’re sat with your legs spread apart by his, back pressed to his chest. You look straight ahead to see yourself in the full length mirror, with Bucky’s self satisfied expression behind you.

“Want you to see what I see,” he explains, running his fingers across your thighs in a featherlight touch. “You should see how pretty you look when you come.”

He cups you over your underwear, both of you groaning in unison.

“This is all for me? All mine?”

All you can do is nod, not trusting your voice anymore. Bucky hooks your panties to the side and runs a finger through your wetness, smothering it around and making a mess on purpose.

“I love you like this,” he murmurs into your ear. “All messy and careless and desperate for me. You’d do anything I asked. So good for me.”

He slides a finger into you, pulling it out swiftly and adding a second. There’s no resistance, only your warm, wet heat sucking him straight back in. You buck your hips, trying to get him to curl them how you like.

“Please,” you whine, squirming in his lap. “Please, Buck.”

He knows exactly what you need, crooking his fingers to hit that spot just right. He can play you like an instrument, plucking at your strings until you’re teetering on the edge in no time.

“Wait,” you plead, gripping his wrist. “Don’t wanna come yet.”

Bucky slows his movements to a halt, kissing your neck and catching your eyes in the mirror.

“No, baby? Why?”

You grab his hand and remove his fingers from you, sucking them into your mouth without breaking eye contact with him. When you’ve licked them clean, you lean back to murmur into his jaw.

“I wanna come on your cock.”

With a gentle kiss to his jaw, you add ever so politely,

“Please.”

Bucky’s never been one to deny you anything, and he’s not about to start now.

“Fuck, look at you. I’ve turned you into a whore.”

“You love it.”

He chuckles all deep and low, the sound rumbling through your body. Pushing you off his lap, you’re confused for a moment before he starts undressing, putting on a show of his own for you.

“C’mere,” he says finally, now fully naked and sat back in his original spot at the edge of the mattress. “Come and watch how pretty you look when you’re sitting on my cock.”

You settle back where you were, legs spread wide by his thick thighs. One of his arms is wrapped around your middle, keeping you firmly plastered to his chest as his other hand lands at the base of your throat.

“Okay, baby. S’all yours. Take what you need.”

His arrogance is doing nothing to soothe the ache between your legs, your arousal dripping through your pretty lace underwear. It’s ruined, but you couldn’t care less.

Lining him up and sinking down, you both groan at the sensation. He fills you up perfectly, almost as if you were made for each other. When you realise you were, your legs go jelly.

“Atta girl. Use me, baby. Fuck yourself, that’s it.”

You use his thighs as leverage, rising up onto your tiptoes to slam back down. Finding a steady rhythm, you feel a funny sense of pride at doing it yourself, at being the one to take you both apart.

Bucky’s praise doesn’t stop, the timbre of his voice in your ear like melted honey, all warm and golden. He presses kisses into your shoulders, your neck, your back, anywhere he can reach. When he can tell you’re getting tired, he starts canting his hips upwards when you come down. He knows he’s hit the right spot when you half collapse backwards into him, whining. His hands tighten their grip on your hip and your throat, keeping you upright.

Your soulmate directs your head back towards the mirror, forcing you to look at your fucked out reflection.

“Look at you,” he hums. “You look wrecked, baby. Such a fucking mess.”

“For you,” you slur, still willing your legs to do the work.

You’re so close you can taste it, and Bucky knows this. His hand that was on your hip migrates to between your legs, where he rubs slow but firm circles on your clit. Your knees buckle, and he knows you’re done for.

“Look at yourself,” he demands, keeping your head up with his grip on you. “Look how fucking pretty you look when you come.”

You watch yourself - the way your jaw drops open and your muscles tighten, back arching up and away. You then shift your gaze to Bucky’s reflection just in time to watch him finish. It’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen - his teeth sunken into your shoulder, sweat dripping down his chest, eyes blown so wide you can’t tell they’re blue anymore.

The two of you sit like that for a while, still connected in every sense of the word. You’re trying to catch your breath, every bone in your body completely relaxed. Bucky’s arms circle your middle, ensuring every inch of his skin is pressed to yours.

“Told you,” he mumbles into your jaw. “Prettiest sight in the fucking world, honey girl.”

You tilt your head up to look at the two of you, the way you fit together so perfectly.

Yeah, you think. Prettiest sight in the world.

tag list

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

515 notes · View notes

tootiecakes234 · 11 months ago

Text

I just know you would receive “gifts” from Katsuki all the time. They’d be little things to make your life easier that you didn’t even know you needed.

You like to read at night to unwind, but sometimes it’ll be a really good book so you want to stay up reading it. The thing is you don’t wanna bother Katsuki cuz you know he has a strict bedtime. This means often times you’ll stay a little longer in the living room reading as to not bother him.

One night you’re getting ready for bed when you see a box next to your bed.

“Hey Kat, is this yours?”, you say loud enough for him to hear you in the bathroom.

He peaks his head out the door and says, “No, I ordered it for you.” And then goes back to what he was doing.

You sit on the edge of the bed and open it up. It’s a reading light with a dampener so you can adjust the brightness.

He comes dragging his little slippered feet towards his side of the bed.

“Now you can keep your ass in bed. Tired of waking up and you being asleep on the couch. I’m an old man, I can’t keep carrying you to bed.”

You look at him with a bright smile on your face.

“You know you can just say, you like me being in the bed with you while you’re sleeping. You know, because I’m your big bad protector and I make you feel safe.”

“There is no talking to you sometimes you know that?”

It’s winter time and you always have your gloves on because you HATE your fingers being cold. The only problem is of course you have to remove said gloves to use your phone when you’re out and that SUCKS.

You’re out with him one day and you’ve been texting back and forth with Mina because her and her girlfriend are in an argument and she of course comes to you about it.

You are always there for your friend so you’ve been removing and putting on your gloves over and over again until Katsuki can’t stand it anymore.

You’re outside on a bench waiting for him while he runs into some shop when he comes back out he snatches your phone out of your hand.

“What the hell? I’m usin-“ you start shouting at him.

“ give me those shitty gloves and put these on. I’m sick of watching you struggle.”

When you look down you see a pair of gloves in your favorite color.

“How are these any different from the ones I have now, Mr. Know-it-all”

He smirks at you, “These gloves are thicker than those thin ones you use AND they work on smart phones.. so yea. I do know it all.”

“Oh…. Well thanks I guess” you murmur lowly.

“Now you can talk Racoon eyes through her mental breakdowns without getting frost bite in your fingers.”he says then hands you back your phone. “She deserve better than that idiot anyways. Don’t why she keeps putting up with it.”

Katsuki is leaving for a mission today and you’ve been so gloomy. He gonna be gone at least 3 days, maybe even the whole week.

You’re been wrapped around him like ivy since you woke up this morning.

“Listen woman, I have to go. You do this every time.”he says with his arms wrapped around you waist pulling you even more flush against him.

“You should clone yourself or something. Who am I gonna cuddle with now?? And who is gonna cook for me?? I’ll die of starvation before you get back. Is that what you want. To come home to a dead girlfriend???”

“You are so damn dramatic. Cuddle with the damn plethor of plushies you have in my goddamn bed. And as far as food… you won’t starve. You’ll just eat out everyday and I’ll come back to you complaining you’ve gained weight when you look the exact same.”

“I do not.”, you start to object.

“Yes you do. Which is why I made a few meals and froze them.” He says all smug, cuz he knows that would surprise you.

“You what??” You ask looking up at him with wide eyes.

“There’s a pot pie and dumplings. I even stored a lasagna in there.” Then his phone buzzes letting him know his ride is downstairs.

“Ok I gotta go. I love you.” And he bends down to give you a deep kiss. “Be safe. Call Eiji if you need anything and try not to burn the house down before I get back.”

“I love you too. Come back to me in one piece please.”

He smiles at you, “always”

He kisses you one more time and then heads to the car.

You go directly to the fridge to see the frozen meals he left you. And not only are the packages all neatly but he’s left the heating instructions on top for you.

To say there were tears shed would be an understatement.

Katsuki Masterlist

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list in the comments💕

1K notes · View notes

hgfictionwriter · 4 months ago

Text

Discovery: Part Two

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie's nervous about a date at your apartment. Despite enjoying the evening and a chance to talk, she's left with lingering doubts about how to handle your evolving relationship.

Warnings: G!P content. Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts; themes of self-acceptance. Reluctant gaslighting??

A/N: Thank you all for the interest in this piece. Still heavy on the angst here. Things will move more significantly in the next chapter. First chapter is here.

"Hey, for Saturday I was thinking of making us reservations at that new place on Greenwood. What do you think?"

"That sounds nice. But I was thinking maybe you could just come over instead. I'll make us dinner. We've been going out a lot and while it's fun to check out new places and it's sweet of you to plan all these dates, I miss our chill nights in."

A pit formed in Jessie's stomach upon reading your message. It was inevitable, really. You two couldn't have an entire relationship outside of your apartments. In fact, this whole going out every week thing was draining for her, but it was the lesser evil compared to hanging out at either of your places and what would, eventually, follow.

She ran a hand through her hair with a sigh.

"Yeah, sure. That's fine." She paused, staring at the message before exhaling in frustration. What a lackluster response. She deleted it.

What you were offering was legitimately what she wanted. She had the most fun when it was just you two, relaxed and in the comfort of your own homes. Just, now, there would be nothing relaxing about it. It would be coded with all sort of hints and allusions to something more now that you were dating. That tentative dance of will you, won't you, and when.

"That sounds great. What do you want me to bring?"

"Just yourself 😉"

Her shoulders slumped with a sigh. She should be excited. Instead, her mind ran rampant with thoughts and scenarios, each one more concerning than the last.

Through the rest of the week, she couldn't quite shake that weight in the pit of her stomach. Sometimes she forgot about it, but as soon as she had space to think or rest, worry came rushing back.

"Still want me to come over?"

Jessie hit send though she was standing at her bike already, helmet on and ready to go. And it's not like she wanted you to cancel. She really wanted to see you, but she was so torn.

"Yes lol. Of course I do. Been looking forward to it all week!"

Her chest panged and another text came through.

"Do you want to do something else?"

Now she really felt bad.

"No, no. Just checking. Just about to hop on my bike. I'll be over soon, then 😊"

"Sounds good. Ride safe."

Jessie's heart was racing as she shifted anxiously from one foot to the next as she rode the elevator up to your apartment. She looked down at the bouquet of flowers she picked up along the way and shook out a hand as she let her head fall back and she stared vacantly up at the ceiling.

"Calm down," she said to herself.

Soon, she stood tentatively in front of your door, hand poised to knock. She stood there frozen for a second before she brought her knuckles to the door. She fidgeted with the straps of her helmet and the paper around the bouquet as she waited.

A few seconds later the door opened to reveal your smiling face. Despite how she was feeling a second ago, the veil of worry that weighed on her dissipated upon seeing you. She couldn't help but smile back.

"Come in," you said cheerfully as you waved her inside before your eyes fell to the flowers. Distracted by seeing you, Jessie momentarily forgot about them and glanced down to follow your gaze.

"Oh," she voiced in belated realization before she smiled brightly and held them out. "For you."

You gave a wide smile and took them from her, smelling them and smiling once more before wrapping her up in a hug.

Her grip around you was slack to begin with, but when you held her tightly she found herself reciprocating. Her chest tightened as she held you close; she really missed you and it was a relief to hold you in her arms again. She felt herself relaxing a touch.

When you pulled your head away from her, you two locked eyes.

"I missed you," you said. Jessie felt a small blush forming and she gave you a coy smile.

"I missed you, too."

Her eyes closed as you gently closed in and soon your lips were on hers. It was chaste and sweet, but it sent a shiver down her spine and she couldn't help smiling into the kiss. Her heart warmed as she opened her eyes to see you smiling affectionately at her as your hand came to her cheek and gave her other a peck.

"Okay, let's get inside. And thank you for these, they're beautiful," you said as you ushered her in and closed the door. "Gosh. It feels like you haven't been over in ages. I guess you haven't - not since we started dating."

"Yeah," Jessie agreed with a faint laugh as she scratched the back of her head, nervousness starting to creep back in. She tried to remain relaxed as you stood close to her.

"Make yourself at home. Dinner should be ready soon."

Jessie followed you with her eyes as you returned to the kitchen and found a home for the flowers. She was lost in her thoughts before shaking her head out.

"Can I help with anything?"

You looked around briefly with the cutest frown on your face before giving a shrug.

"I guess you can get some plates and cutlery out."

She did so, carefully laying everything out before returning to the kitchen and standing awkwardly waiting for further instructions.

"Go sit down," you laughed as you shooed her away.

"No, let me help you," she insisted, a smile finding its way onto her lips, your mannerisms infectious.

You placed your hands on your hips and cocked your head at her. "Fine. Go get me these things," you unlocked your phone and handed it to her with a recipe on screen. You nodded to the pantry cupboard. "The shaker's in there. I saw this on a mixology account I follow and wanted to make us some tonight."

"Oh," Jessie voiced as she looked at the drink recipe. "Tequila?"

"Don't tell me you're scared of a shot of tequila," you teased lightly. "I thought some of you varsity athletes partied hard - especially in LA."

"Yeah, some," she emphasized as she scanned the cupboard for the items.

"You don't have to drink anything if you don't want to," you added. She gave you a fleeting look over her shoulder before returning with the supplies.

"It's fine," she said. "I'll try it."

It's not that she never drank, she enjoyed a relaxing beverage as much as the next person, but alcohol seemed like a dangerous thing given her current circumstances. However, perhaps it would take the edge off.

She started measuring out ingredients into the shaker and sealed it before shaking it all together. You looked back and gave her a not-so-subtle look of appreciation as your eyes fell to her biceps. You even reached out and gave her nearest arm a brief squeeze.

"Oh," you said with a quick raise of your eyebrows, a hint of a smile at the corner of your mouth before you turned away. Jessie blushed under your attention.

"For you," she announced after she poured out the drinks and handed you your glass.

She smiled softly as you cheers each other and took a sip. You both immediately winced and she started coughing at the overwhelming taste of alcohol.

"Shit," Jessie coughed, her eyes started to water.

You burst into laughter, but took another tentative sip.

"They are not joking with these drinks. Either that or you're heavy handed," you teased.

"I measured!" She insisted.

The drink certainly took the edge off for Jessie. By the time you were done dinner and settled into watching a movie together, her body was void of tension and her head still felt a bit light.

It wasn't long before fleeting pangs of concern started to edge in though. You two had watched shows and hung out on the couch together before, that wasn't the big deal, but as Jessie became acutely aware of your hand brushing up against hers, she found herself fidgeting lightly. She cleared her throat.

She tried to view you out of the corner of her eye and got the sense you were doing the same. Eventually, you took charge and slipped your fingers between hers, giving her hand a light squeeze. She turned and gave you a tight smile that caused your cheeks to grow flush.

While you'd both been quietly watching the movie, now you started to talk - making comments about the movie or other things. She responded softly as you chatted, cluing in that you were nervous and trying to distract to some degree. Soon, your clasped hands were resting on Jessie's thigh as you leaned into her, eventually resting your head on her shoulder.

Her heart started to pound with increasing intensity in her chest. She cursed inwardly. This shouldn't be a big fucking deal. She wanted to cuddle with you. She wanted to put her arm around you and pull you close. But it was the possibility of what would follow that had her wary.

She completely lost track of the movie, fully preoccupied with what to do. She was so conflicted. You drew small circles on her thigh and at one point laid a soft kiss on her shoulder. She cast her worries aside and lifted her arm to wrap around your shoulders. A rush of affection went through her as she caught the smile on your face as you cuddled in.

If she hadn't forgotten about the movie earlier, it was certainly forgotten now as you grew more handsy. Jessie tried to not appear affected, but her body was so tense in apprehension; she just didn't know how to relax.

When your lips suddenly made soft, sweet contact with her neck. Her free hand dug into the underside of her leg as she fought to remain indifferent. Your lips were sensual and teasing, your breath hot on her neck and she could feel sensations building within her and threatening to spill over. When your tongue grazed the sensitive skin of her neck she instinctively jerked away, fully breaking away from the embrace. She'd done it before she even realized it. An apologetic frown etched onto her face already before even seeing you.

That pit in her stomach hit deeper than ever when she saw the hurt and embarrassed look on your face, even if it was just for a second before you quickly masked it.

"Sorry," you said with a forced smile and a breathy laugh.

"No, I-" Jessie stammered, struggling to find her words. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess and she could just picture the pathetic look she was giving you. You forced another chuckle and tucked your hair behind your ear self-consciously.

"No, no. I'm sorry. Must be that heavy pour," you faintly joked, forcing a fleeting look. You straightened your posture and seemed to recenter yourself. You looked to her, earnest. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have pushed. I think I just-" you paused, collecting your thoughts, "I think I just thought you were being, I don't know, really...chivalrous? Or just shy. I don't know." Your face fell briefly before offering her a brave, half-hearted smile. "You clearly want to take it slow, and I should respect that. I do respect that."

Jessie turned to you, shifting on the couch to face you more fully.

"Hey, don't apologize. Seriously. It's completely okay," she assured you. You looked far from comforted, so she reached out and took your hands. Your grip was nearly non-existent until she gave you a squeeze and you mustered up a soft smile and squeezed back.

"Y-yeah, I do want to take things slow, and it doesn't help that I'm super awkward and shy," she said self-deprecatingly. "But please don't feel bad. I'm just...I'm awkward."

You made a slight face at her.

"I made you uncomfortable," you countered.

"I liked it," Jessie said, and it was absolutely true. "I just," she looked away briefly as she found her words, "I just want you to know that I'm interested in more than just physical with you." That wasn't a lie either.

You frowned deeply and your mouth quirked up in a smirk. "I think I sorted that out," you said somewhat flatly. You seemed to contemplate your words, choosing to move forward. "You know. After going on five dates and having barely kissed."

Jessie could feel her face start to heat up and her mouth felt dry. While she struggled to figure out what to say, you scratched at the back of your neck and spoke further.

"I don't know. Maybe it's in my head. You seem less comfortable with me now than before we started dating." You relaxed your shoulders, taking a breath as you sat straight and gave her an earnest smile. "I really like you, Jessie. And I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, at all, so. If there's something I'm doing that's making you feel like that - you know, other than trying to make out with you unprompted-" you rolled your eyes, "please tell me. I don't want to push you away."

Jessie's jaw was clenched hard and she didn't realize her fingers were digging into her palms. She hated that she was making you feel this way and making you doubt yourself, and her.

"Y/N," she said your name imploringly, "I really like you, too. Please believe me. I really, really do." She searched your eyes, hating the hurt and uncertainty she'd sparked in you. Her shoulders fell and she thumbed the back of your hands softly. "I haven't dated in a long time. I don't really know what I'm doing. And I think I'm just in my head. I don't want to mess things up with you."

Your gaze softened and you gave her hands a light squeeze.

"You're not messing anything up. And, it's good that we're talking this through. I think that's really good and I'm grateful for it," you told her and she nodded readily.

"Hey," she said softly as she shuffled in closer to you. "I really like you. Please don't doubt that. Even if I'm being stupid. Thank you for being patient with me."

You gave a faint frown. "You don't need to thank me. Nor are you stupid."

"Mm, I'm kind of dumb," she said as she gave you a comical expression. You chuckled, but frowned further. She smiled at you. "I have this gorgeous, incredible girlfriend and I'm getting so stuck in my head that I'm making her think I don't feel the same way about her as she does about me."

You rolled your eyes briefly, but looked at her in thanks nonetheless.

"You're not dumb."

"Mm," she voiced further as she slowly leaned in. She whispered, "I kind of am," before her lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Though you reciprocated, it was passive. Tentative.

Jessie kissed you anew, deepening it. Something she hadn't initiated before. Your reaction was delayed. She could almost feel the confusion and hesitation, but she stayed the course. Her hand came up to the side of your face, her thumb caressing your cheekbone and she kissed you more. You met her briefly, but paused, your hand coming up to her cheek, your forehead resting against hers as you broke the kiss.

"Wait - we don't have to do this," you said, opening your eyes and looking at her.

"I want to," she assured you as she kissed you again. And she did want it. And she didn't want her fear and apprehension to control her.

This time, you returned her kiss fully. Whereas all of the kisses between you two had been relatively tame and mild, now, with Jessie opening up just so, things were heating up quickly.

Kisses deepened and grew hungrier, breathing was heavier; soft, subtle moans starting, and hands began to wander.

Jessie was immersed in the moment, in you, before a tightening sensation in her pants brought reality crashing back down upon her.

Her eyes shot open and she became keenly aware of your hand drifting up her thigh. She cleared her throat and did her best to gently pull back without it seeming too abrupt. She forced a smile as your eyes belatedly drifted open and you blinked at her, confusion settling on your brow. She shifted away, positioning her body as best she could to conceal the bulge that was threatening to reveal itself.

"That was really nice," she said, trying to somehow feign that the make out session had reached its natural end.

"Um, yeah," you said slowly, a subtle frown still on your face and Jessie could see your mind trying to process what happened. You eventually offered a smile of your own. "Yeah. That was nice," you reciprocated. Your eyes studied her.

"Do you want something to drink?" Jessie asked as she got up from the couch and turned her back to you, already retreating to the kitchen. She released an inaudible sigh of relief as she rounded the counter and out of your view. She opened your fridge and glanced down. She ground her teeth together upon seeing the bulge in her pants.

"Fuck," she mouthed, upset with herself.

She peeked up over the fridge door to look at you again. You were looking vacantly at the wall before you realized she was watching you. Your expression immediately brightened and you gave a small shake of your head.

"I'm okay, thank you."

Guilt washed over her again.

The night wore on and though you both cuddled and it was less awkward than before, there were still hints of unspoken tension. That aside, it was a nice evening and Jessie was glad to have this alone time with you. It was just different than being out together.

At some point, you were both stifling yawns. She was keenly aware of the time and knew another key point in the night was fast approaching.

"If I'm exhausted, I can't imagine how tired you must be," you said as you covered your mouth as another yawn forced itself up. "You just got back into town on Monday, training all week, game yesterday and now today."

"I'm good," Jessie dismissed, despite the yawn yours pulled out of her. "But I should probably go."

You watched her quietly for a moment, before giving a nonchalant shrug.

"It's really late. I don't want you to have to bike home at this hour. Why don't you just spend the night?"

Jessie was shaking her head already and stood up by the time you were even done speaking. She waved off your offer.

"It's totally fine," she assured you.

"Babe," you beseeched, giving her pause. It still caused a small flutter in her chest when you called her that. She faltered, rubbing the side of her face briefly. You rose. "I can sleep on the couch," you offered and she shot you a withering look.

"Babe," she reciprocated. "You would never sleep on the couch on my watch. I would take the couch."

You didn't respond immediately and Jessie felt like you were going to say something else, instead saying, "Well, offer still stands. I really would rather you not go home this late."

She was tempted. God, she was so tempted. Again, it ate her up that you were paying for all of the baggage she now carried. In another time, she would've gladly taken you up on the offer. Hell, you two probably would've slept together by now - assuming you wanted to. She'd certainly dreamt of it enough and you seemed keen to move things forward. Instead...

"Thanks baby. But it's okay. Really. I'll text you when I get home." She tried to ignore the expression that flashed across your face before you gave a small smile of resignation.

"Be safe," you warned.

She put on her shoes, grabbed her helmet and jacket, but was fully distracted with how quiet you'd become. She put on a bright smile for you.

"Thank you for an amazing night," she said as she wrapped your arms around your waist. You reciprocated, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck, but you hesitated for just a moment. It was subtle, but Jessie noticed it. She gave you a kiss in hopes of bridging whatever thoughts you were having.

"Thanks for being okay just staying in. I enjoyed it," you said once you pulled back. Your gaze flicked away and a faint smirk crossed your face. You looked back to her, your cheeks growing rosy. "I swear I didn't invite you over just to try to make out with you or to try to convince you to spend the night." You shrugged. "I just like spending time just the two of us at home. It's more relaxed." Jessie nodded.

"I know. Me too," she agreed. Her tactic of booking dates around town had expired; she'd have to let it go. She gave you an encouraging smile. "We can do this more often."

"Okay," you accepted with a nod. You gave her another quick kiss. "Well, you better go."

"Okay," she said. She started to thumb the small of your back and stopped immediately. "Goodnight." She stepped out of your embrace and opened the door, taking a step out into the hall before pausing and turning back. "Raincheck on spending the night?"

Your smile reached your eyes this time. You nodded. "Of course."

A/N: Forgot a couple of folks asked to be tagged. @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt x reader #wlw fiction #wlw angst

442 notes · View notes

clockwayswrites · 10 months ago

Text

City Pigeons Part 12 CW: blood, past trauma and experimentation

Jason could almost go to sleep. He wouldn’t, not when he was the only Bat in the apartment, but it would be so easy to. Danny made a really good weighted blanket.

It seemed once the kid got over touching someone, he basically became a koala. Cass and Danny had spent the morning wrapped around each other on the couch. Cass was playing one of her weird clicking games and Danny, blue bear in his lap, was scrolling through articles on the tablet that Tim had brought him the other day.

Now, though, Cass was out on a snack run and Danny had slowly slumped over until he was laying across Jason. It wasn’t minded. Jason could admit he still had some trouble with touch himself, but it was easy to be there for Danny like this.

The problem was, Jason needed to get back to Crime Alley for at least a few nights. He was already past when Red Hood should have made an appearance. It he didn’t go back soon, rumors were going to start that he was dead. Again.

Jason waited for Danny to start searching for a new article to read to ask, “Are you alright with meeting someone soon?”

He didn’t expect Danny to tense like he did.

“Robin?”

“No, Dandelion,” Jason said, stroking Danny’s white hair. “N talked with Robin and he knows not to stop by like that without warning. We’ll have him over when you’re comfortable but not before.”

“Okay. Sorry. I don’t mean to…”

“None of that. He freaked you out,” Jason said. “I know he didn’t mean to, and from our guess it’s not his fault how he feels like to you, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. It’s okay to set boundaries.”

“He… doesn’t feel weird to you?”

Jason sighed. “No. I guess I don’t sense it. I didn’t know you had died until you told me.”

“Oh.” Danny’s voice was small and quiet.

“But I knew that I had died— the others know it’s too,” Jason was quick to add. “It’s alright that you died. No one will think differently of you.”

“They might. It’s… you’re different than me, I guess.”

“I don’t know, because I don’t know what happened to you, but I actually hope so. The way I came back wasn’t pleasant.” Jason had to take a breath before he continued. “I was murdered by a rogue in town called the Joker. I woke up… we’re still not sure when exactly, but somewhere about half a year later. I didn’t have any of my memories, but I still had most of my injuries.

“I was picked up by some people you might hear us refer to— the League of Assassins. They put me back together about a year after my death by tossing me in something called the Lazarus Pits. Those things come with a price though, one that I’m still paying. Coming back was… hard, in a lot of ways.”

“Oh,” Danny said. He clung a little to Jason’s shirt, like he wanted to make sure Jason was still there. It was a feeling Jason understood all too well. “I, um, don’t think I’ve ever stayed really dead for more than a minute or two. At least not like… not like you were.”

Jason rested his hand on Danny’s back, feeling him breath. Feeling him… feeling him not breathe.

“…Danny?”

Danny clung tighter to Jason’s shirt. “Go ahead, ask.”

“Are you… somewhat dead right now?”

“Yes.”

Just one word. A simple answer.

“Okay. That’s— okay. I’m glad there’s a reason that you’re not breathing,” Jason said and pressed a kiss to the top of Danny’s head as he tried to calm his own pounding heart.

“I think B.B. knows. I usually… it’s habit to breath but sometimes I forget and—”

“She’s good at noticing things.” Jason would have to talk with her. “But that goes to what I said, right? None of the others will thinking of you differently.”

“Even if…”

“Even if anything.”

Danny sat up and Jason resisted the urge to reach for him. It took him a moment longer to release Jason’s shirt. Jason sat up slowly and waited for Danny to get the words out he was obviously working on.

“Can I show you?”

“Course.” Jason braced himself for anything.

“It might be bright, close your eyes.”

The flash still shown through Jason’s eyelids.

“Oh.” Danny’s voice wavered horribly. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Danny?” Jason was reaching forward even as he opened his eyes.

It was good he did.

He had to catch Danny as he wavered dangerously. Danny’s who hair was black. Who’s eyes were blue. Who looked all the more like Bruce’s son. Who was bleeding red.

“Jesus and Mother Mary,” Dick cursed, resting his forehead against his wrist’s.

Cass came over and peeled the bloody gloves off for him. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing,” Dick wheezed.

“Badly.”

Jason barked out a laugh at that. It was unstable in a way that reminded the room of worse days.

The door banged open and they all jolted, everyone but Cass, who was better than that, and Danny who was still out cold.

“Shit, fuck, sorry,” Tim rambled. “Is he stable?”

“Yes,” Cass answered. Her voice was calm, but but Duke could see the way that she fidgeted. For anyone else it wouldn’t be called fidgeting, but the way that she untied and retied and untied the trash bag in his visions told Dick otherwise.

Cass was as worried as the rest of them.

“Signal?” Tim asked. He came into the room, tablet already pulled up to record everything.

“Hard for me to say,” Duke said with a little shrug. He wished he could say, but he was still trying to understand what he was seeing. “The guy is… he’s like no one I’ve ever seen before. But I think he’s getting stronger.”

“That’s— holy fuck.” Tim paused as he finally got a look at Danny.

“Really looks like the old man like this, doesn’t he?” Jason asked. He was trying to hide how his hands were trembling by keeping his arms crossed. Everyone in the room let him pretend.

Duke sure wouldn’t have wanted to be the one Danny collapsed on like that. It was bad enough being the third one there as he swung over from his patrol. The cuts had still been appearing on Danny’s skin, ripping him apart like he was nothing.

He didn’t look much better all bandaged up.

“I think the cuts were ones he must have sustained before changing forms before he even met us,” Duke reasoned. “They… felt old.”

Dick rubbed at his face. “So the whole time they were there just waiting to bleed?”

Jason laughed again. “Waiting for him to be alive again.”

Slowly, Dick dropped his hands and looked up at Jason. “Jay?”

Okay, so they were at the point of forgetting cape-names now. That was a great sign.

Confusingly, Jason looked to Cass, who actually fidgeted.

“He doesn’t breathe. He does, not always. His heart beats, not always. It is like he…,” she twisted her hand as if trying to grab onto the right word. “Like he relaxes and forgets.”

Well that was weird. Dick nodded to the monitor that he had helped hook up. “He’s breathing right now and the monitor says his heartbeat is hella slow, but steady.”

“This is his alive form, I think. More alive form,” Jason said with a shrug. “His other form is his more dead form. He said he’s never stayed ‘really dead’ like I was. I think ‘really’ was the important word in that. He stressed it like it was… a technically or some shit.”

“Or a loophole,” Tim said. He was watching Danny with his head tilted just slightly to the right.

It was a pose that had Duke straightening up in attention. “What do you see that I can’t?”

Tim glanced at him and then back down at Danny. “The scars don’t match.”

“Ti—Red, please just say it,” Dick pleaded, exhaustion hanging on his words.

“Sorry, I was. I mean, the scars he has now don’t exactly match the scars he had in his— what are we calling it? Dead form?”

Jason flinched.

Dick’s eyes flicked from Jason to Tim. “Let’s go with… ghost. Undead, you know?”

Tim continued on valiantly. “His scars don’t match with what he had in his ghost form. There are a few like around his neck that I think are one-to-one and a lot of them are in the same place from what I can see and might be the same? I’d have to take photos and compare. But… he has more in this living form, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, right, so that’s a thing,” Jason said. He slid down the wall he was leaning against until he was squatting. He hung his head between his knee and wrapped his hands around the back of his neck.

Duke could see Jason passing out with enough probability that he slipped out of the room to grab some sour candy for Jason and an icepack for the back of his neck. Being honest with himself, Duke could use the moment out of the room. It was a lot to deal with.

Man, someone would have to do something about the bloody couch too… Dick sighed and took the time to send a message to Babs about it as well as an update. Knowing her she had a list of all the furniture in all the safe houses and could get a slipcover ordered on same day delivery. At least he hoped so. Everyone was taking this pretty hard and they didn’t need the reminder.

Duke figured the bad reaction was pretty fair though, they had thought that Danny was getting better and now his healing was going to be set back. Dick would be guilty because he hadn’t been here, Jason going through his issues about kids and violence and death, and Cass already counted Danny as family. She was never good when family was hurt. It was even worse that Danny should have been safe, he was under their watch.

Duke set the pack of candy and ice pack down next to Jason’s foot, close enough that he should be able to feel the cold, and backed up to his corner. It was best not to touch right then. He wasn’t afraid of Jason ever hurting him purposefully, but he was also very aware for Jason it might not always be purposeful.

Cass joined him, leaning against his side, and Duke wrapped an arm around her. Tim was tapping away on his tablet, mostly muttering to himself, but Dick had gotten up to peer over his shoulder.

Jason tore open the packet of candies and popped one in his mouth.

They’d be okay.

It would take work, but they were Bats. They were stubborn.

Dukes wrist buzzed. The tracking number for slipcover flashed across his hud. It would be there by 9 pm.

They’d be okay.

Everything hurt. Everything ached all the way down through his skin and muscled and bones. His breath caught in his chest, ragged and frayed like his lungs were full of shattered glass.

He tried not to make a noise.

He tried to stay quiet.

They would notice him if he made a noise. He couldn’t take any more attention. He didn’t think he’d survive more attention. God, that thought was almost enough to kill him. Once he would have done anything for his parents attention and now—

There was a hand in his hair. It was gentle.

Oh, he was crying.

“…going to be okay. We have you, Dandelion, and we’re not letting them touch you ever again. The two Reds will make sure it can never happen again. Once you’re better they’ll take a little road trip.”

That was… that wasn’t… a sob broke through Danny’s lips and he didn’t stop it. He didn’t even try.

He wasn’t there.

He could make noises.

He was safe.

“Danny? Hey, are you awake.”

Danny nodded as much as he could manage.

“Hey there,” Nightwing said, voice so kind that it just made Danny cry harder. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

Danny shook his head.

“Okay, that’s okay, thank you for answering me Danny. How’s the pain? Um, squeeze my hand once if it’s okay, twice if it��s really bad.”

Danny squeezed it three times.

“Really, really bad, huh? Okay. Okay… we can give you some pain meds through your IV. We have you on a saline drip because you looked really bad. We didn’t want to give you any meds without your consent though. Are you alright with some pain medication? Once for yes, twice for no.”

One squeeze.

“Okay, let me go—”

Danny clung to Nightwing’s hand a tightly at he could. His breath stuttered around the glass.

“Not leaving, Dandelion. I’m going to text Red Robin, okay? He’s in the living room. Hood and B.B are out… running an errand. They’ll be back soon. I’ll text Red and he’ll bring the pain meds.”

Danny nodded. Nightwing shifted around, but didn’t let go of Danny’s hand. The breathing calmed, got easier. Danny let out a slow breath.

“Hey Danny,” a new voice said. “The medication will make you feel fuzzy and maybe disoriented. You’ll probably sleep a lot. We don’t want you to wake up panicked. Is there anything we can do to help you know you’re here with us and safe?”

“Bear,” Danny croaked. He wet his lips and tried to continue. “Smells that aren’t… Touch. Warmth.”

“Red will get your teddy bear as soon as the meds are hooked up and we’ll work on the other things. One of us will always be here with you,” Nightwing said.

Danny squeezed his hand again.

“Okay. We won’t leave you alone, Danny, we’ll keep you safe. You’ll be okay.”

Danny trusted that.

It was surprising.

He didn’t think he could trust anymore, but Danny trusted that, trusted them.

The warmth of that thought followed him back into the black.

---

AN: This all Danny's fault, not mine! He decided to reveal his form early and then... welp.....

...Stay delightful, darlings?

#dp x dc #batpham #city pigeons

1K notes · View notes

rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

Text

Not Just Some Option

SUMMARY: After years of friendship and hidden feelings, you and Tyler Owens, the charming and fearless storm chaser, find yourselves tangled in an unspoken connection. One quiet evening at home in Arkansas, the walls of denial crumble as the tension between you finally comes to a head. Tyler’s frustration with your reluctance to open up sparks a raw, emotional confession, forcing both of you to confront the depth of your feelings. As truths are laid bare, Tyler proves his devotion with words and actions, leaving no room for doubt that his heart belongs to you—and only you.

A/N: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! Hope you enjoy it!

PROMPT: "What part of I want you and only you do you not understand?"

WARNINGS/TAGS: Some Angst. Fluff. Some brief kissing/making out.

WORD COUNT: 2k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

You’d always been good at hiding your feelings for Tyler. After all, what choice did you have? Loving him quietly from a distance was safer than risking everything and losing him for good. You told yourself you were fine being his best friend, the one he could count on through thick and thin, the person who knew him better than anyone. But sometimes, like tonight, the weight of unspoken words felt like it might crush you.

His arm was draped over the back of the couch, and you leaned into him, trying to focus on the movie playing on the screen. The warmth of his body so close to yours should have been comforting, but it only reminded you of all the times you’d wished for more.

And then his phone buzzed. Again.

You bit your lip, refusing to look at the screen. It wasn’t your business who he was texting, no matter how much it felt like a dagger twisting in your chest. You tried to ignore the flashes of girls’ names, the way his lips quirked up in a small smile when he typed out a reply. But when the fifth buzz shattered the silence, you couldn’t help the sharp glance you shot at his phone.

“Who is that?” you asked, keeping your tone light, though the words tasted bitter in your mouth.

Tyler barely looked up. “Oh, just that brunette from Kansas. You know, the one from the bar.”

The knot in your stomach tightened. You remembered her well. The way she’d draped herself over him, batting her eyelashes and whispering in his ear, like she owned the right to his attention. And the worst part? He’d let her.

“Right,” you said, your voice tight as you turned back to the TV.

Tyler frowned, his focus shifting from his phone to you. “Hey, you okay?”

“I'm fine,” you lied, your eyes glued to the screen.

“You don’t sound fine.”

“I said I’m fine, Tyler.”

You could feel his gaze on you, sharp and searching. “Come on. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” you said quickly, your fingers clenching the edge of the throw pillow in your lap.

He sighed, his tone turning frustrated. “Why do you always do this? I know something’s bothering you, but you won’t tell me. Why can’t you just be honest with me?”

Because if I tell you, I’ll lose you. The words screamed in your head, but you couldn’t say them. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if your confession made things awkward, and ruined the easy friendship you’d spent years building? You swallowed hard, your throat tight with unshed tears.

“Forget it, Tyler,” you said softly. “It’s not important.”

“Bull,” he shot back, his voice firm. “It’s important if it’s upsetting you. Talk to me.”

The frustration in his voice broke something in you, and before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out. “I don’t like watching you with other girls, okay? I don’t like it when you’re texting them or taking them home. It hurts, Tyler. It kills me.”

The room went silent, the only sound the hum of the TV in the background. Tyler stared at you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“You…” He hesitated, his voice quieter now. “You feel that way about me?”

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Tyler. But I know it doesn’t matter."

"It does matter. I want you." He said softly.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "You could have anyone you want. Why would you want me?”

The vulnerability in your voice must have hit him, because he reached for you, his hand gently tilting your chin up until your eyes met his.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” he said, his voice low and intense.

You blinked, the words not fully sinking in. “Tyler, don’t—”

“I mean it,” he interrupted, his eyes boring into yours. “I’ve wanted you for so long, but I didn’t think you felt the same. And yeah, I’ve been an idiot talking to other people, but that’s over. I’m done with anyone else. I just want you.”

You shook your head slightly, tears spilling down your cheeks. “How can I believe that? After everything? I've seen you take I don't even know how many girls back to your hotel room.”

His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin.

“Then let me prove it to you,” he murmured, his voice dropping as he leaned in closer.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent, and the world fell away. It wasn’t rushed or tentative—it was a kiss full of everything he couldn’t put into words, everything he’d been holding back.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his breath was warm against your skin. “Do you believe me now?”

You nodded your voice barely a whisper. “Yeah. I believe you.”

“Good,” he said with a small smile, his hand still cradling the back of your neck. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

Tyler didn’t wait for your response. His lips found yours again, firmer this time, more insistent. The hand cradling the back of your neck tightened slightly, anchoring you to him as his other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against your lips in a silent request, and when you parted them, a quiet gasp escaped you as he claimed the moment. His tongue swept into your mouth, exploring, tasting, and igniting sparks that spread through your body like wildfire.

Your hands, which had been resting awkwardly at your sides, moved on instinct. One slid up to his shoulder, gripping the soft fabric of his t-shirt, while the other tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. The soft strands felt warm under your fingertips, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giving a gentle tug, earning a low, almost guttural sound from him that sent a shiver down your spine.

He shifted, his body pressing closer to yours as the kiss turned more heated. You felt his fingers flex against your waist, holding you firmly but not harshly. The way he touched you was deliberate like he was savoring every second, every tiny reaction you gave him.

“God,” Tyler murmured against your lips, his voice hoarse and breathless. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

His confession hit you harder than you expected, making your chest tighten and your head spin. You barely had time to process it before he kissed you again, tilting his head to deepen the connection.

You melted into him, letting go of the doubts and fears that had held you back for so long. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of his kiss—it all felt so right, so natural.

Tyler’s hand slid up your side, his thumb brushing just under the edge of your ribs before it settled lightly on your cheek, guiding your face to stay perfectly aligned with his. The tenderness of the gesture contrasted with the hunger in the kiss, and it left you breathless, craving more.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were gasping for air. Tyler pressed his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours in the charged silence. His hands framed your face, his thumbs tracing soothing patterns along your jaw.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill through you. “I want you. Only you.”

Your heart stuttered at the sincerity in his tone, and all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping his shirt as though letting go would break the spell.

“I don’t want this to be just a moment,” you whispered, your voice shaky but resolute. “I don’t want to go back to pretending.”

“We won’t,” Tyler promised, leaning in to press a softer, slower kiss to your lips. “No more pretending. Promise.”

Tyler’s promise hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt the truth of it in the way his hands lingered on your face, in the way his gaze bore into yours like he was trying to memorize every detail.

He kissed you again, slower this time, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache. It wasn’t just passion; it was something deeper, something that made the world outside this moment fade away.

You sighed against his mouth, your body relaxing into his as you let yourself get lost in him. Tyler responded by pulling you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist as he shifted, guiding you backward until you were lying against the cushions of the couch. He leaned over you, his weight balanced carefully on one arm as his other hand caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

His kisses trailed away from your mouth, moving to the corner of your lips, then along your jaw. Each touch of his lips sent a spark racing through you, and when he nuzzled against the curve of your neck, you couldn’t stop the soft gasp that escaped you.

“Tyler,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He hummed in response, the low, rough sound vibrating against your skin as his lips found the spot just below your ear.

“I love the way you say my name,” he murmured, his breath warm and tantalizing against your neck.

You bit your lip, your hands sliding from his shoulders to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It grounded you, reminding you that this was real—that this wasn’t some fleeting dream you’d wake up from.

Tyler pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, his expression softer now, almost hesitant.

“I need you to tell me something,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

You nodded, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you held his gaze. “Anything.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his brow furrowed as though the answer truly mattered more than anything else.

The question caught you off guard, but the answer came easily. “Of course I do.”

“Then trust me when I say this,” Tyler continued his voice steady but laced with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m not going anywhere. This doesn't ruin our friendship. You’re not just some option to me. You never were.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them. You’d spent so long doubting, second-guessing, convincing yourself that this connection between you was one-sided. But now, hearing him say it, seeing the conviction in his eyes—it was overwhelming.

“Tyler...” Your voice broke, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check.

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “No more doubting, okay? No more wondering if you’re enough. You’ve always been enough. For me, you’re everything.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could say anything else, Tyler leaned in, capturing your lips in another kiss. This one was slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to prove his words with every movement, every gentle caress.

The heat between you began to build again, his kisses growing more fervent as his hand slid down your side, resting just above your hip. You felt his fingers curl slightly, holding you with a mix of reverence and restraint.

The sound of the rain tapping against the window faded into the background as the world narrowed to just the two of you. Nothing else mattered—not the doubts, not the fears, not the years you’d spent hiding how you felt.

In this moment, it was just you and Tyler.

And for the first time, it felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction

382 notes · View notes