#not that the angst isn’t important but like

[periprose]

Bedside Manner - Chapter One

The Ghoul x Reader

When it comes to job prospects in the Wasteland, being a nurse isn't all that lucrative. So you're Dom Pedro's assistant, where your nurse skills of administering drugs come in handy with sedating the Ghoul. (Not really following canon, just taking my own spin on stuff)

Genre: fluff, fallout angst (more in future chaps anyways), strangers to accomplices to ambivalent friends to lovers, heated moments of tension, probably eventual smut

Word count: 2.2k

Masterlist | Next Chapter

Holy fuck, does shoveling do a number on your back.

You groan as you roll back your shoulder, and throw the shovel behind you. 

Dom Pedro has been on your ass about this shift. You have to take the Ghoul to Dom’s workshop, where he’ll carve him up, when the sedatives have worn off and the pain will be ever-present and lingering. You figure Dom’s angry about something else– and what better outlet is there than torturing a ghoul?

It’s not something you like to do, carrying this extremely heavy, tall undead-man through Dom Pedro’s house by using a rope system and tugging, and then after Dom Pedro’s had his fun. re-administering drugs that will prevent the feral nature from taking him over, but it’s necessary and it pays well.

Pedro’s a little too elite to do this himself anyways. That’s why he hired you, a former nurse who used to work at a charitable hospital– one that was eventually claimed by the Brotherhood.

You try not to think too much about your former, much more fulfilling career.

The mildly disturbing scent of a living corpse hits you as you open up the casket. The Ghoul isn’t the worst ghoul you’ve ever had to look at, but he’s still a little creepy, and you stare at him as he lies there.

Is he awake? Pretending to be asleep so you’ll be caught off guard, and his gun will fire rapidly, making a bloody mess out of you?

You’re well aware of the risks. You just have to hope that today’s chemical cocktail IVs are correct, and enough is administered inside him so that he’s truly, really, fast asleep.

You carefully tie around his wrists and legs– you feel, somehow, the slightest bit of warmth, something that could suggest a pulse from the veins of his wrists– but you know that’s ridiculous and continue on.

/

Dragging him to the workshop makes you feel a little guilty. His face sometimes smacks onto the wooden floors of this cabin if you’re not careful, and you always whisper a hushed “Sorry!” Even though he’s not human.

You don’t want to be on his bad side, even if he can’t hear you. 

“Why the fuck isn’t there a more moral way to make caps?” You exhale, a common complaint you always have.

You tie him to the torture-chair, wrapping rope around his torso and arms and legs, so he can’t break free, adjusting his hat so it stays on, and because– despite the Ghoul’s reputation as a bounty hunter, you feel like he deserves a little respect with his belongings– and now you’re waiting for Dom Pedro to come and cut him up.

You don’t know why Dom Pedro does this. Is there some sort of use for ghoul skin and blood that you don’t know about? Or is it just purely torture, since Dom Pedro’s kept the Ghoul alive for so long, even giving him the false kindness of anti-feral ghoul drugs so he’ll be entirely aware of every inch Dom Pedro’s knife cuts into him?

You don’t know. And it’s not exactly like you’re important enough to know that information, anyways.  

/

The Ghoul stirs awake. He blinks– he’s back in the workshop, yet again.

He’s only half aware of how he gets here. He knows there’s definitely a woman involved– someone soft, with pliant fingers and hesitant motions that suggest she doesn’t want him to get hurt as she drags him from sleep to being butchered– he only vaguely remembers seeing her back, just once, maybe a few months ago.

He turns to the side, ready for Dom Pedro to be seething in the corner over whatever their beef was and brandishing that scary, rusted axe. 

He’s not there.

Oh. The Ghoul blinks again, his eyes clearing up as he does.

It’s you. You’re the woman, the nurse that Dom Pedro uses to administer all these drugs into him. 

It’s almost a little shocking, a little tantalizing to him to actually see you. Two-hundred years of memories doesn’t exactly give him the most clear of minds, but he knows you’re the one who’s always just hazy, on the edge of his peripheral vision after being tortured, in his dreams after you sedate him.

“Hey, nurse…” He can hardly talk, but you jolt in your spot, and turn to him. 

“Uh–” You stare at him, entirely flabbergasted. “You’re not supposed to be awake!”

“Well, I am. What’re you gonna do about it?” He yawns, still ever so slightly woozy from the drugs. 

The Ghoul notices a knife on the table. He tips his head toward it.

“Cut me free.”

“Are you fucking crazy?!” You shake your head immediately. “Dom Pedro will kill me.”

“Dom Pedro’s a bitch if he’s killing someone willing to do the hard work for what, a couple hundred caps?” The Ghoul raises his non-existent eyebrows, and you swallow. “You don’t know how rare that is nowadays.”

“And I’m supposed to just trust you? The Ghoul, the most terrifying, ruthless, brutal killer I’ve ever known?” You narrow your eyes at him, with every adjective tossed out of your hissing mouth, coming closer and closer to him.   

“I like how you describe me, keep going.” He jokes, looking up at you, but he snarls suddenly and you flinch.

The Ghoul grins in satisfaction, white pearly teeth, very square and rigid in their appearance, something that should look handsome on the right person and instead, is a little unnerving right now.

Still attractive, though, and you question yourself.  

“Let me go, sweetheart, and I promise your death won’t be as half as painful as he could make it.” He drawls, and you swallow but shake your head.

“I’m not interested in being a mercy kill.” You state, and he sucks on his teeth. 

“That’s a mistake.” He leans closer to you, somehow straining against your carefully tied knots to do so. “I’d be doing you a favour.”

“Well, I’m a coward. I’m not all rough and tough and shooting every single person I see, unlike you and Dom Pedro. I’m not gonna die in glorious battle, and I don’t want to die anyways.” You’re glum. “I only took this job because being associated with him protects me.”

The Ghoul is silent for a moment.

“And what if you were associated with me?” He asks, not actually intending anything serious, but he feels an urge to tease you ever so slightly. “That’s protection, isn’t it?”

“What?” You glance back at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs. “Maybe because I’m trying to bargain my way out of here, maybe because you’re the one who’s been kind enough to make sure I’m not chafing with how you tie these fucking ropes– and I’m assuming you drug me, right, sweetheart? You dull the sick pains he gives me.”

“Uh… yeah, I do.” You pause. “Stop trying to sweet talk me, Ghoul.”

“Nah, nurse. It’s funny and I wonder what Dom Pedro will do when he sees you talking to me.” The Ghoul says, another shit-eating grin upon his face.

Oh.

That’s actually quite bad, you think. The Ghoul hasn’t just been trying to coax you with compliments so you’d help him escape– the longer he’s kept you in this conversation, the closer you’ve gotten to his Plan B: Dom Pedro’s wrath.

“I’m guessing a smart lady like you would be more afraid of him.” The Ghoul keeps prodding, and you glare at him. “Rather than me.” 

You know he’s right. Your eyes give away what you’re thinking as you ever so slightly glance to the table.

There’s a syringe of chems there, meant to send him to sleep after Dom Pedro has done his worst. Usually Dom Pedro takes the initiative to do that himself, because as he tells you, he likes being the only one who can send the Ghoul to sleep, the closest Dom Pedro will let him ever get to death. And then you’re stuck with dragging his comatose body back to the grave that awaits him.

Maybe you can just put a stop to the Ghoul’s philandering right now, and get yourself out of here before things get bad. Dom Pedro wouldn’t even notice– the Ghoul would seem as out of it as he was supposed to be at this time.

It’s only a second of you looking over there, but the Ghoul is quick– too quick, immediately understanding what you intend to do– and he somehow pushes his chair forward, at you, aiming his foot to kick at you with what limited motion he has in his restraints.

You get shoved back with a grunt, and you see him edge towards the knife on the table– but you knock him backwards with a shove, and the chair tips back, only stopping on it’s back legs due to the ropes extending from them, tethered to the back wall and through the gear and pulley systems that are ever present in this workshop. 

The Ghoul’s kept his grip around your wrist, though, from where his hands are tied on the armchairs, and you fall back with him, balancing on your tippie toes and your hands on the top of the chair. Your hair brushes against his face as you lean forward, and you attempt to move away, but he won’t let go of you, instead sighing with gratification as he looks up at you from here.

“Huh. This is a compromising position, isn’t it?” The Ghoul licks his teeth as he keeps pulling you towards him, and you hear the wooden floor creak under you as the chair wavers in the air.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, c’mon, cut the bullshit.” He scoffs, still trying to get you to budge into helping him. “You really think Ol’ Dom Pedro won’t think you’re conspiring with me now, after it looks like you’ve taken a lover–”

There’s a sudden sound at the porch of the cabin. You and the Ghoul both turn to look out the window– and it’s definitely one very drunk Dom Pedro struggling to open the door.

You duck, out of fear that he’ll see you through the window, in the delicate moonlight, and the Ghoul tuts as your face comes near his jaw.

“What’s it gonna be, sweetheart?” He looks at your trembling face nonchalantly, as you try to make a decision. “Free me, and we’ll escape together. Use the drugs, and you’ll be stuck under Dom Pedro’s grubby fingers making exceedingly meagre wages.”

“How do I know you won’t just abandon me as soon as you want to kill a bounty?” You whisper, and he rolls his eyes. 

“You don’t. But I always repay my debts.” He says, and you don’t really believe him at all, but the more time passes by, the more you know that he won’t even seem appropriately sedated for Dom Pedro’s wishes– so you wordlessly nod.

The Ghoul won’t let go of you, so you’re left careening to the side as his arms hold you to him. He’s keeping such a tight grip to ensure that you scrabble for the knife– and you do.

“No sneaky bullshit.” He spits out, and you, despite being of the Wasteland, had no mind to kill him. No, that would’ve certainly looked bad as well. 

Dom Pedro’s favourite lap dog, dead? His bounty killer, who does it for the love of the game? His favourite ghoul to torture? The one who did something so bad it’s basically unspeakable, and Dom Pedro would be livid if he wasn’t ultimately the one to kill him in the end?

You could say goodbye to your head if you killed the Ghoul. You know your place– even if you get paid to administer drugs to him, you’re no better than a dealer, a sweet face providing a nice bedside manner.  

You make quick work of the ropes restraining him, and the Ghoul stands up before ducking behind a table, putting his finger against his lips, shushing you.

You’re very careful now. Dom Pedro is coming down the hallway, and any second now, he’s going to check to see if you brought the Ghoul here.. Luckily, Dom Pedro’s so drunk, he’s taking his time, stumbling and groaning.

After mulling over it in your mind, you decide to take the full syringe on the table. Less evidence, and you figure maybe Dom Pedro will be so drunk he’ll forget you were supposed to be here anyways.

And after second-guessing it– you think fuck it, and take the entire briefcase of drugs with you.

The Ghoul whistles very slightly at the sight of that. “You’re committing.”

You resist the urge to ask him what other choice you have, since running out on Dom Pedro is a great way to have a bunch of bounty hunters after you– you’re relying on selling some drugs, and bribing the Ghoul with some so he’d have to continue protecting you after he inevitably says he’s completed his debt by helping you escape.

“Let’s go.” You mouth, and he nods.

He’s not one to care about personal space at all, though– and he lifts you up over the ledge of the other window, pushing up on your thighs, away from the hallway where Dom Pedro is finally coming in– and you feel your face turn hot at the close contact, halfway over the ledge into the outside, with his hands on your waist as he hoists you away.

You don’t even have time to think about it as you land lightly on the ground together, because he’s right behind you, hands still on your waist for a moment, and then he lets go, and together you move quickly.

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard #fallout tv #fallout tv series #fallout amazon #fallout prime #fallout x reader #ghoul x reader #fallout #fallout 2024 #fallout show #the ghoul fluff #the ghoul fallout #fallout series #amazon fallout #series: bedside manner

[fluentmoviequoter]

Better Care

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!teacher!reader

Summary: One of your students is absent, and you worry about her until you return home and see her with your husband, Tim Bradford. He's taking care of her following the death of her parents, but neither of you want it to be a temporary arrangement.

Warnings: angst, parental death (OC Lilliana), fluff, adoptive girl dad Tim Bradford

Word Count: 3.1k+ words

Picture from Pinterest (ignore the jack-o-lantern and focus on the handsome boy)

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Your classroom is one of the most welcoming places you’ve ever stepped foot in. You and your husband Tim worked tirelessly over the summer to make your classroom feel like a second home to your students. Being a teacher is your dream job, something you worked for throughout college, and you continue to strive to do better each day. Teaching second grade can be challenging, but the rewards outweigh the bad days and the tiring students. Being in your room early like this is one of your favorite things; it’s quiet, the day is full of potential, and you have time to prepare for your day and your students.

While you put your things away and begin placing morning worksheets on each desk, you put a personalized sticky note beside each and hope for a good day. This year has been good so far, but your students can always benefit from a little reminder that they’re doing well.

Meanwhile, Tim is seated in roll call and mentally preparing for a good day. He doesn’t have quite as much faith in people as you do, but he knows that what you do is important, so he supports you in all you do. Visiting your class has also become one of his favorite pastimes, and whenever Wade asks for someone to do community outreach, he finds himself sitting beside you and talking to your class. Your students love him, too, and ask about him often. As Wade greets the officers, Tim decides to drop by and surprise your kids (with your permission) soon.

“Good morning,” you greet with a smile as you walk to your desk.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bradford,” your class answers together.

“Who’s ready for a good day?”

They cheer, and you chuckle at their excitement to learn. Though you wouldn’t admit it to many people, this is your favorite class so far. After they silence, you give them directions to complete their morning worksheets as you fill out your attendance report.

When you reach the bottom of the list, you look around the room with your lips pursed.

“Where’s Lilliana?” you ask.

“She isn’t here, Mrs. Bradford,” one of the girls in the front row replies.

“Her backpack isn’t in her cubby,” another student adds.

“Okay. Thank you,” you reply.

You mark her as absent but hesitate before you input the report into your computer. Using the paper before the computer is unnecessary, but you like being able to walk around and actually see your students as you fill out the attendance. Not seeing Lilliana unsettles you. She loves school, to the point that she cried in your arms once when she was checked out early to go to a doctor’s appointment. Maybe she’s just running late or not feeling well. You make a note to check with the officer later before returning your attention to the students who are present and nearly done with their worksheets.

“Bradford, Chen, we need you at my location for a double homicide,” Angela radios. “The neighborhood’s blocked off from the main streets, so come in from the east side.”

“10-4,” Tim answers.

He sighs as he returns the radio to the dash. There are plenty of ways he could be spending his day, but babysitting a crime scene doesn’t sound like the most exciting or the best use of his time. But, this is Tim’s job, and he’s good at it, so he hits the sirens and drives to the entrance Angela directed him to.

“Hi, Marsha,” you greet when the school secretary answers. “My student Lilliana is absent today, and I wanted to check if her parents have called. I’m just worried about her.”

“Oh, yes, sweet Lilli,” Marsha says. You can hear her keyboard click as she types. “I haven’t received a call about her, but I could call them if you’d like.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for checking, Marsha.”

“She has perfect attendance. Strange that she isn’t here today.”

“I thought so, too. Maybe she’ll be here before lunch.”

“If she isn’t, let me know, and I’ll reach out for you, hun.”

“Thanks, Marsha. Enjoy the rest of your morning.”

“You, too. I’ll see your class when they head to recess.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You end the call more distraught than you were before. It’s completely out of character for Lilliana to miss school, but for her parents to not call and explain why is even stranger. When she left forty minutes early for a doctor’s appointment, her mom told you two weeks in advance and insisted that it would be okay to give her more homework for anything she may miss. As your class returns from their extracurricular, you tap your fingers on your desk to expel your nervousness before beginning a math lesson. You’re tempted to call Tim and let him calm you down, but he’s busy too. You’ll just have to worry about Lilliana later.

Tim closes the shop door behind him and waits for Lucy. They approach the crime scene together, and Lucy whispers about how many people are surrounding the house.

“Double homicides usually require a lot of hands,” Tim informs.

“And that’s all we are today?” Lucy inquires.

“Welcome to police work, boot.”

“I’m not a boot,” Lucy grumbles.

“Bradford!” Nyla yells across the front lawn.

Tim nods as he raises the crime scene tape. Lucy goes under first, and he surveys the bullet holes littering the front of the house as he walks across the grass.

“What happened?” Lucy asks.

“The caller said-“

Someone yells Tim’s name, though the fear and tears mumbling it make it sound like “Off’cer Bra’ford!” He turns quickly and sees a young girl running toward him. She jumps toward him, and he bends to catch her easily.

“Lils,” he says as he pulls her against his chest.

She cries harder in his hold, her face pressed to his shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Tim recognizes her from the number of times he’s visited your class, but seeing her here, like this, during a school day, concerns him.

“What is she-“ Tim begins, looking toward Angela.

He realizes quickly. Between her presence at this specific house and the look Angela gives him, it’s easy to deduce. Her parents are inside.

“Lils, do you want to go sit in my police car?” he asks kindly, rubbing a large hand over her shaking back. “We can turn on the sirens.”

She nods before she pulls back. Her face is streaked with tears and a deep frown starkly contrasts her usual smile, the one that is on her face from the moment she steps into your classroom until she leaves.

“And the lights?” she whispers.

“Of course.”

Tim nods toward Angela and Nyla before he shifts Lilliana to his hip. He positions her so she can’t see the house as they walk. When she points to the firetruck waiting down the street, Tim takes a quick detour to see it. He sits in the driver’s seat of his shop with her on his lap. She lays her hands on the wheel and giggles before he shows her where the switch to turn on the lights and sirens is. Tim considers calling you, but you’d leave work, and he isn’t sure of the full story yet, anyway. So, for now, he’ll try to comfort her and distract her until they have more answers.

Back in the house, Lucy follows Angela through the rooms and looks at the damage caused by the murderer.

“Did she see anything?” Lucy asks. “The little girl?”

“We don’t think so. She was in the backyard when we got here. Definitely heard it, though. We’re not sure of anything. The woman is her mother, and there’s a male victim as well, but…” Angela trails off. “Until we get more answers, we’ll have to trust child services to get any answers she may have.”

“She knows Tim, maybe she’d talk to him,” Lucy suggests.

“Yeah, she’s in Tim’s wife’s class. That’s why I called you two. I was hoping you’d be willing to help secure the scene while Tim helps us work the case from a different angle.”

“Of course,” Lucy agrees.

Tim pulls Lilliana back into his arms when he arrives at the station. She hadn’t wanted to sit in the backseat until he promised to turn on the lights and stay with her the whole way. The moment he opens the door, she raises her arms toward him and clings to him.

“Use my office,” Wade says when Tim enters. “There’s some stuff in there I thought she may want.”

“Thank you,” Tim calls over his shoulder.

He closes the door behind him and sits in Wade’s chair. Tim expects Lilliana to climb out of his hold to search through the coloring sheets, a large bin of crayons, and toys littering the desk, but she only twists to sit in his lap.

“Which one?” Lilliana asks.

She pulls two coloring sheets toward her; one is a cop with a police dog and the other is a police car. Tim moves the chair closer to the desk so she can reach it to color as he taps the picture with the dog. She nods once before raising her chin to look through the different crayons. Tim unconsciously raises his arms by her sides to keep her steady as she leans over the desk. He watches her color and smiles at her enthusiasm.

“What color is this part?” she asks, pointing to the vest on the dog.

“Blue, black, or dark green,” he answers. “Since he’s brown, maybe do blue or green.”

“Can you help me?”

“Of course. With what?”

Tim leans forward and looks over her shoulder. She draws a line over the blank area at the top of the picture.

“There’s nothing here.”

“Well, you could draw a rainbow, or write your name…” Tim suggests. “Maybe even add another picture.”

“Rainbow,” she decides with a nod.

Someone knocks on the door, and Tim looks up. Wade shakes his head before he gestures toward a woman from child protective services.

“Grey,” Tim begins.

“It’s protocol, Bradford. I’m sorry,” Wade interrupts.

Tim takes a deep breath before he gently takes the crayon from her hand.

“Do you want to finish this later? We have to go see some people,” Tim explains.

“You keep it,” she answers.

Tim thanks her quietly before he stands. She lays her cheek against his shoulder, and he hugs her tightly before he sets her on the floor. Lilliana takes his hand and holds it firmly as they follow Wade out of his office.

“Hi, Lilliana,” the woman greets. “I’m Karen and I’ll be taking care of you for a while. Can you come with me, and we can talk?”

Lilliana shakes her head and tightens her grip on Tim’s hand.

“It’s alright, Lills,” Tim says. He squats beside her and adds, “She needs to make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t want to,” Lilliana whispers.

“It’ll only be a few minutes, Lilli,” Karen says with a disarming smile.

Lilliana looks up at Karen and Tim sees tears building in her eyes even as she agrees. Tim reluctantly releases her hand and watches Karen lead her into a private room. Lilliana looks over her shoulder at Tim, her lip wobbles, and Tim hopes that she’s okay in there alone.

“What happens now?” Tim asks Wade. “Foster care?”

“Not today. They’ll take her to a shelter for tonight and push the paperwork through in the morning for foster care placement,” Wade answers. “You’ve done all you can do and more, Tim.”

“No, I haven’t. She’s gone through enough without having to move in with strangers who will never understand what kind of trauma she just experienced. You know that she won’t even be able to grieve in foster care,” Tim argues.

“It’s the way it is, Tim.”

Tim shakes his head, prepared to argue that there has to be a better way, but is cut off by Lilliana yelling before she begins crying. He stands up straighter, letting his crossed arms fall to his sides, and watches the door. Her crying grows in intensity before Karen pulls the door open and steps out.

“Officer Bradford?” she calls. “I could use your assistance in here.”

Tim nods but turns to Wade to say, “Let me take her home. We’ll take better care of her than any shelter.”

He rushes into the room and Lilliana immediately calms. As she calms down, Wade knows that Tim’s offer to take her home is more than just seeing a kid in need. Tim is the man for the job for more reasons than Wade can count.

“Karen, a word?” Wade calls.

“Bye!” you call with a wave as your last student is picked up.

The moment your classroom is empty, your smile falls. You move quickly on autopilot as you clean up today’s mess. Lilliana’s desk is untouched, your heart-covered sticky note still adhered to her name tag. As soon as everything is tidy, you gather your things and walk out. There’s too much on your mind to hang around this afternoon. Though an empty house doesn’t sound much better than an empty classroom, at least you won’t have to look at an empty desk with no answers about where its usual resident is.

When you pull into your driveway, you’re surprised to see Tim’s truck. He’s supposed to be at work for a few more hours, but you certainly won’t complain about his early return. You rush inside to tell him about your day and hug him tightly, but you stop short when you see the living room.

Dozens of bags, an oversized coloring pad, and a dismantled police car model litter the room. Tim is leaning back on the couch with none other than Lilliana asleep in his lap. Your eyes widen at the sight, and he sends you a close-lipped smile as he waves for you to come over. After you set your bag in its proper place, you sit beside him on your knees. Lilliana looks peaceful, you think, but you have so many questions that you don’t dwell on it long.

“She wasn’t at school today,” you whisper.

“Lucy and I got called to a double murder,” Tim explains. “She was there when we arrived and ran straight to me. Child services was going to put her in a shelter tonight, then foster care in the morning. I- uh, I couldn’t let her go through that, too, not with everything else she’s struggling with right now.”

“So, her parents were…”

“As far as we know, yeah. Her mom was ID’d at the scene, but Angela and Nyla are still working.”

You raise your hands to cover your mouth as your eyes water. Tim extends his arm toward you, and you twist to sit beside him. The movement jostles Lilliana, and you freeze as she stirs. Her eyes open briefly, and she smiles when she sees you. She moves so she’s between you and Tim, but drifts back to sleep quickly.

“You’re amazing,” you whisper to Tim.

He shakes his head and rubs your shoulder in response. You can’t imagine sending her to a foster home, where she’s just another temporary resident who gets the parents a government paycheck each month. Especially after what she just went through.

“Are you working tomorrow?” you ask.

“I took the day off,” Tim answers.

“I will too. I feel terrible, Tim. Maybe if I had called her parents earlier-“

“Don’t,” Tim interrupts softly. “Don’t think like that.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Bradford,” Lilliana says as she rubs her eyes to wake. “I wanted to come to school today.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” you assure as she climbs into your lap. “It was boring without you, anyway.”

She giggles before asking you to color with her, and you happily agree. Tim watches you interact with her and knows that he can’t do it. He can’t let her go.

“Tim,” you say as you stand beside your bed. “Did Lills see it?”

Tim moves his head to gesture for you to join him. When you’re in bed beside him and wrapped in his arms, Tim kisses your forehead.

“We don’t think so. She’ll have to talk to a psychiatrist and the detectives soon, but she was in the backyard when they arrived. At the least, though, she heard it,” he answers.

You ignore the tears running down your cheeks, the result of sympathy and concern for the young girl sleeping across the hall from you. Tim wipes your cheeks gently and whispers that everything will be okay. You trust him, but you know it won’t be okay for Lilliana if she has to acclimate to an entirely new life just hours after her parents were killed.

A small knock on the door draws your attention away from Tim. Lilliana stands in the doorway holding the police dog stuffed animal Tim bought for her on the way home.

“What’s wrong, Lilli?” Tim asks.

You move out of Tim’s hold and walk toward her. She hugs you tightly and mumbles that she missed you, and you close your eyes to keep more tears from leaking out. Tim smiles when you look back at him and moves so that there’s more room in the bed. As you set her between you and Tim, he mouths I love you over her head, and you waste no time in replying.

The following morning, as Lilliana eats breakfast and watches Paw Patrol beside you, you look toward Tim. Beginning the conversation about not sending her into foster care is harder than you anticipated. You hesitate, but Tim smiles as his eyes meet yours. 

“I know,” he answers before you begin.

You smile, glad that he knows you so well, and Tim pulls you close as he nods. You kiss him quickly before Lilliana calls for you. She raises a coloring of a cop, a woman, a kid, and a police dog.

“It’s us!” she cheers.

Tim smiles as you applaud her work. He’s as attached to her as you are, and he loves you so much that he knows exactly what you are thinking. This may not be exactly how he planned to become a parent, but he would do anything with you, even adopting one of your students. Seeing you interact with Lilliana in your home like this, though, makes Tim confident that he wants to have a child of his own with you, and Lilliana does seem like she would be a good big sister.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #the rookie x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 05 - Bonding]

Focus on Pairing: Jungkook x Taehyung

Warnings: a romantic picnic date in the forest, Tae is a nervous mess, he is actually a mess in general, so many insecurities and anxieties and signs of PTSD, please seriously someone hold this man, despite these warnings this chapter is so romantic and healing, Kook is the sweetest and most patient person ever, he is so fucking important to Tae's healing journey, they're really bonding <3, they're so cute :(, there is a moment where "smut" could be implied but i can't say more without spoiling the plot, there is no smut though, ah yes there is also talks about being queer and how amazing it is to be queer, i love being queer no joke <3, and i love them :(

Wordcount: 10.4k

a/n: i feel like these warnings are a mess bahahah i didn't wanna spoiler too much, this chapter is definitely the "angstiest" though which says a lot about this story because it's still so fluffy and sweet despite the "angst"

Yoongi’s softened eyes meet yours as you open them to a new morning. His face lights up, an adoring smile washes over his features. He must have been gazing at you for a while because his cheeks are slightly flushed.

You retort the smile instantly with your pulse speeding up. His eyes are dark brown again, his hair a deep black, and yet, the memory of how they glowed purple last night is still so fresh to you. He looked so incredibly beautiful.

You reach out and caress his cheek, making him flutter his lashes in contentment. 

“Good morning, my beloved”, you speak softly.

“Good morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

He nods his head and scoots closer to kiss your forehead.

“I love you”, he whispers, making your heart race.

“I love you too.” 

“My love”, he sighs, giving you a gentle hug.

You snuggle into him, giggling quietly.

“Last night was so nice”, you say.

“It was incredible”, he agrees.

“I can’t stop repeating the way you looked.”

“Me neither, my love. Your magic is so beautiful.”

“Yours is just as beautiful.” 

He gives you a gentle squeeze, “my beloved love.”

You giggle, “Yoongi, oh god. You’re so cute.”

You crane your neck, kissing his lips. He smiles into the kiss, purring in happiness as his hand caresses your cheek. 

You break the kiss once you need to breathe, putting some distance between each other so you could gaze.

“I like you so, so much, Boongie.”

“I like you too, my princess.” 

You smile. He retorts it, holding your hand.

“Do you feel normal?” he asks.

“Yeah, just really happy and a little hungry. Why?” 

“Just so. I still can’t believe you let me cum inside.” 

“Yeah”, you agree with a giddy scrunch of your nose, “I don’t regret it.” 

“Me neither”, he squeezes your hand, “if something happens and you change your mind, I will support you. I just want you to know.”

You know what he insinuates, feeling so incredibly safe with him. 

“Thank you so much”, you kiss his hand, “I love you.”

“I love you too”, he answers you and rubs his tummy, “I’m hungry too.”

“You are? Oh poor Boongie”, you go to rub his tummy even if he giggles as a defence mechanism, “should we get brekky?” 

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Taehyung and Jungkook are up earlier than you because the guestroom is already empty when you pass it. Yoongi thinks that they are downstairs and so you continue your way to the kitchen.

Taehyung is sitting cross-legged on the floor, freeing cherries from their pits together with your grandfather. Next to them, your grandmother is kneading dough for a pie. Jungkook isn’t present in the room, but the door to the garden is open. They have the radio on, playing songs from a long passed time. 

“Good morning.” 

Their heads turn in sync with your greeting. Their voices overlap as they all greet you and Yoongi. You hug your grandmother and your hug your grandfather, then you kiss Taehyung on his lips and caress his soft cheek. He leans into the touch with sparkly puppy eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask no one in particular.

“I did”, Taehyung answers, “and you?” 

“We did.”

“We didn’t get to see you at all yesterday.” 

“I know, right? Yoongi and I practiced magic for almost the entire day and when we came back for dinner, you guys were still out, painting? Paps said that you were.”

One Day Prior

“Well then, I don’t wanna keep you from it. See you later, guys. I love you”, you say and send them flying kisses. You are below their window, carrying a picnic basket and a bright smile.

Taehyung and Jungkook catch the kisses you sent them, giggling just as you do.

“We love you too”, they say in unison, waving you goodbye as you continue your journey to the forest.

“She’s glowing today”, Taehyung says as he watches you skip along the path.

“I thought the same”, Jungkook says.

“Do you think that she will find Yoongi?” 

“I bet she will. But even if she won’t, she’ll have a good time. She’ll probably just look at plants and cry over small animals.” 

Taehyung laughs fondly. Jungkook does the same. 

“That is something she would do.” 

“Yeah right?” 

You disappear out of their sight as the forest swallows you. The two men shift their eyes back to the view of the forest before them. Taehyung steps closer to Jungkook and hugs his waist tighter.

“Your heart’s racing like crazy, by the way”, Jungkook speaks softly as his fingers play with Taehyung’s mindlessly. He has his left hand rested on the window sill and Jungkook took the chance.

“Because I am with you.”

“You’re a softie.” 

“I am. For you”, Taehyung kisses Jungkook’s neck gently, “my weakness.” 

Jungkook smiles fondly, “softie.”

Taehyung purrs, rubbing his cheek against Jungkook’s shoulder. He slips his hands from their intertwined fingers and runs them along his arms instead. Once he reaches his elbows, he changes his touch to his stomach instead, tracing the lines of his muscles with his fingertips. Goosebumps cover Jungkook’s skin instantly, soft purrs rumble in his chest. 

“Do you want to spend time with me today?” Taehyung asks in a whisper.

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Do you want to paint in the forest? Perhaps have a picnic as well?”

“A picnic? It sounds romantic.” 

“It is supposed to be romantic. We haven’t truly gone on a date ever since all of this calmed down.” 

“Right”, Jungkook agrees, “mhm, a picnic in the forest sounds nice.” 

“Really? Do you truly want to spend time with me?”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“O-on a date?”

“Yes, that sounds nice.”

Taehyung exhales shakily and presses a kiss to Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I am so happy to hear that”, he whispers and breaks away from Jungkook, “I am calling dips on the bathroom.” 

Jungkook chuckles, “alright, do your thing.” 

Taehyung keeps the bedroom door open, singing to himself on his way to the bathroom. 

Jungkook tidies the room a little. He makes the bed, puts away yesterday’s clothing and cleans the clutter on the bedside tables. He takes the empty glasses of water and makes his way downstairs with a melody on his lips. The shower runs and Taehyung sings happily. 

The downstairs is empty, but Jungkook doesn’t worry. He knows where you and Yoongi are and your grandparents are definitely in the garden. Jungkook thinks that it is so lovely that you got your passion for gardening from them. 

Jungkook turns on the radio and begins making the picnic. He eats a slice of raspberry pie for strength and sips from his cup of coffee every now and then. Food tastes so good when it actually nourishes the body. Jungkook really loves it. 

Taehyung comes downstairs when Jungkook has already finished two dishes. 

“You tidied the bedroom.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung. He is wearing beige dress pants and a white linen shirt with strings in the front to close the collar. He has his sleeves down and golden rings on his fingers. His dark hair is styled. 

“I did”, Jungkook confirms.

“Are you making breakfast?” Taehyung asks and comes behind him to hug his waist. 

“No. I’m preparing the picnic. I had raspberry pie for breakfast. I saved you a slice as well.”

“I see, thank you”, Taehyung says, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Jungkook’s neck.

“Tae, behave”, Jungkook warns and wiggles out of the hug gently. 

“I am. I just wanted to smell you”, Taehyung defends himself.

Jungkook scoffs in amusement, placing the cooking towel aside.

“I’m washing up now. Take out the bread once the timer’s done and check on the potatoes. Don’t touch anything you have no idea how to cook.” 

“You are mean”, Taehyung calls after him. 

Jungkook chuckles. The door closes moments later.

Taehyung looks around the kitchen. Jungkook prepared sandwiches with various fillings, as well as rice rolls with vegetables from the garden. He also has potatoes for a salad boiling happily and seems to bake small baguettes in the oven. 

Taehyung straightens up after looking into the oven, scratching his head in thinking. He has no idea what he could contribute to the picnic. He can’t cook and the one thing he can make - sandwiches – Jungkook already made. 

Perhaps. Taehyung’s eyes light up. Perhaps he could try his luck with pancakes again. He must be better at them these days. He just must. 

With this glorious plan in mind, Taehyung begins his contribution to the picnic.

Jungkook hurries downstairs.

“What’s burning?” he asks worriedly.

Taehyung has his sleeves rolled up by now and his hair dishevelled just a little.

“Don’t look.”

“Tae, what did you do?”

“Don’t come here.”

Jungkook reaches his side, looking at the stack of burned pancakes. He looks at them with big eyes.

“How can you burn them so bad?” he gasps.

“I swear I did everything right. I worked so diligently on getting them golden”, Taehyung says and pouts, “I’m sorry. I know you told me not to do anything, but I still did.” 

Jungkook laughs, patting his butt gently.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t apologise. At least you tried. And look, you made five nice ones. That’s an improvement.”

Taehyung’s eyes light up, “that’s right. I did manage to make five nice ones.” 

“Good job, Tae”, Jungkook praises and pats his butt, “also, you took out the bread and potatoes at the right time.”

“I even cut them. Can you see?” 

“I can. Good job. They’re cut very nicely.”

Taehyung scrunches his nose.

“Thank you so much.”

“Now can you get me the salt and pepper? We need to marinate this salad. It’s gonna be so good.” 

“Yes, of course. I can get you spices”, Taehyung says and begins working with sparkly eyes. 

Jungkook studies him. He looks so happy and content now that he can be helpful. Jungkook smiles. He likes seeing Taehyung like this. 

“Should I put them in already?” 

“Yes, go careful. We don’t want it to be too salty.”

Taehyung goes careful, sticking out his tongue in concentration. He sprinkles salt over the potatoes, looking at Jungkook once his fingers are empty.

“Was that good?”

“That was perfect.”

Taehyung’s eyes sparkle. 

“Go ahead and put the pepper in it as well, I’m getting the stuff for the sauce.”

Taehyung sings to the radio as he works. Jungkook listens to him with warmth in his chest. He is always the one others take care of, others baby and coddle and try to help. And while Jungkook likes being coddled, he also sometimes really needs to feel as if he could guide someone, as if he is the one being needed. He really likes what he has going on with Taehyung right now. 

He returns with his hands full, looking into the salad.

“And?” Taehyung asks with expectant eyes.

“Looks good. You’ve done so well”, Jungkook praises.

“Thank you, wow”, Taehyung rests his head against Jungkook’s arm.

“Do you want to do something else?”

“Yes. I want to.”

“Why don’t you make a pretty charcuterie box? I’m sure someone like you can make pretty boxes.”

“Yes, oh I love charcuterie boards. Why a box?”

“So we can take it with us.”

“I see. I understand. I am going to make it very prettily. Just you wait, I will work very hard on it.”

“I’m sure you will.”

The two men share lovely silence like this. Jungkook finishes the potato salad and makes little wraps with a savoury filling, while Taehyung works hard on perfecting the charcuterie box. Jungkook also cuts up some fruits and puts grandma’s pie into a container, while Taehyung still works on his box. And as Jungkook fills the picnic basket with the food, cutlery and plates, Taehyung still works on his box. 

Jungkook allows him this time, eventhough he feels stressed about it. He is someone who likes to move fast, work quickly and finish a lot in little time. He would have finished this box ages ago, but he knows not to comment on it. Taehyung needs it. Jungkook knows way better than one might assume, how important such small moments of quiet are to a traumatised mind. 

So he lets Taehyung work and busies himself with cleaning instead. Taehyung doesn’t notice until Jungkook wipes the counter a little to his right. He lifts his head, looking around the room with big eyes.

“Am I taking too long?”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

“I am sorry, I am almost finished. I, I am trying to get all the details right.”

“It’s okay, take your time. We still have all day”, Jungkook assures him with a chaste kiss to his jawline, “I’m gonna pop into the garden real quick and ask grandma if they have painting supplies. Take your time, okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, lowering it shyly afterwards.

“Take your time, okay? You’re doing well.”

Taehyung has finished his charcuterie box, as well as finished packing the basket when Jungkook comes back inside with your grandmother. They are talking about painting as she shows him what they could take for their picnic. Once all supplies are packed, they leave the cottage to finally go on their forest adventure. Jungkook carries everything because he finished putting on his shoes sooner than Taehyung. The latter jogs so he could open the garden door. 

“Thank you”, Jungkook says and enters the forest path. 

Taehyung closes the door, then does another light jog to catch up with Jungkook.

“Should I help you?” he offers, trying to reach for the heavy picnic basket.

“It’s okay, I can manage”, Jungkook says as he carries it with ease. It doesn’t feel heavy to him at all.

“At least let me carry the blanket.”

“It’s fine, seriously.” 

“I feel so useless now.”

Jungkook ogles him and gives up with a sigh.

“Actually, maybe you could carry the blanket. It’s kinda heavy.”

“Of course”, Taehyung says and takes it happily. He throws it over his shoulder, giving Jungkook a shy grin. One Jungkook retorts. 

Their adventure takes them past the lake you and Yoongi are spending time together at. The sound of someone cutting wood fills the air. 

“So this is where she went”, Taehyung says. 

“I guess so, yeah”, Jungkook agrees.

The two men slow down and linger in hiding. Yoongi is cutting wood while you are on the blanket reading a book. You and he seem peaceful and truly lost in your own little world.

“Should we join them?” 

“No, let’s give them their privacy.” 

“Very well. Then I want to walk along this path”, Taehyung says and takes Jungkook’s hand to lead him away. 

Jungkook looks at their intertwined hands, then at Taehyung’s face. The latter seemed content and as if the sudden skinship felt normal to him. 

“The sunlight looks especially beautiful on this path, wouldn’t you agree?” Taehyung asks, looking at Jungkook. He flusters and pulls his hand away, “forgive me.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong”, Jungkook assures him in a soft voice. 

Taehyung lowers his eyes shyly and reaches for Jungkook’s hand again. Carefully. Just a brush of his fingers to test the waters. Pull away. Cheeks flush. Jungkook reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Taehyung, making the decision for him. 

Taehyung meets his eyes and giggles. 

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out and smiles fondly. He never imagined Taehyung to be so timid, but he likes that he is. Normally, Jungkook is always the one who everyone wants to baby and call shy. So it is a very nice and welcome change to feel as if he could be the one babying someone. 

He pulls Taehyung just a little closer, “you said the sunlight looks especially nice here?”

“Yes, I did. At least I think it does”, Taehyung says and flusters again, “ah please forgive me”, he gets out, breaking away to hide his face in his hands and giggles. 

“What’s the matter?” Jungkook asks in a chuckle, nudging his arm playfully, “why are you so shy?”

“You make me shy”, Taehyung says and glances at Jungkook, “stop it, please.”

“Why? I’m not even doing anything”, Jungkook complains in laughter, stumbling slightly when Taehyung pushes at his arm softly. 

“Yes, you do. You look at me.”

“Oh? I’m sorry then, it won’t happen again”, Jungkook teases and turns his head away. 

Taehyung rounds him, but Jungkook turns his head away again. 

“No”, Taehyung laughs and rounds Jungkook again only for the latter to turn his head away. 

Taehyung whines and grasps for Jungkook, “don’t do that”, he is laughing. 

Jungkook laughs as well, feeling happy when he can tease Taehyung one more time by turning his head away as the latter tries to get his eye contact. 

“I didn’t mean it”, Taehyung says and cups Jungkook’s face. They fight each other gently. Jungkook could easily win in this realm, but he lets Taehyung win instead, laughing heartily at his adorable attempts to steal a glance. 

Taehyung pulls him closer and rubs his nose against Jungkook’s. Jungkook keeps his eyes closed on purpose.

“Look at me, please”, Taehyung begs in a whisper as his fingers grasp Jungkook’s face almost desperately.

Jungkook opens his eyes. 

Taehyung melts in giddiness instantly, scrunching his nose. He flutters his lashes prettily, letting out a shy giggle.

Jungkook chuckles softly and steals a kiss. 

“You’re adorable right now”, he says, sliding his hand together with Taehyung’s and tugging softly, “come on, the basket’s getting heavy.”

Taehyung follows him with wobbly knees, hugging his arm. He rests his head against Jungkook’s shoulder, twisting the fabric of his shirt mindlessly. He hasn’t felt this way about a man in decades. He feels so entirely silly for it because in the grand scheme of endless time, he has only been with Jungkook for a very short time. Four months ever since Namjoon was defeated to be exact. The two men didn’t have enough time yet to truly get to know each other. Taehyung shouldn’t feel so strongly for him already, but he cannot help himself. Courting Jungkook makes Taehyung feel like a giddy, young queer again. He hasn’t felt this way in forever.

He keeps these thoughts to himself however because he fears to be too much. That is why he shied away from holding his hand or why he didn’t dare to call it a date. Yes, Jungkook is very openly and proudly bisexual, but Taehyung doesn’t want to be the reason why Jungkook could question it in a negative way. Taehyung truly feels that he could make him question it. Oh, he feels so insecure lately. As if he was a desperate, pitiful beggar asking for something he wasn’t worthy of. 

Taehyung lifts his head from Jungkook’s shoulder, deepening the hand holding. He gulps. They begin again. The painful thoughts. They have been haunting him for months. They keep him up at night and steal his desire to be creative. The once beautiful sunlight is invisible to him right now. Jungkook’s hand in his’ feels like an act of pity. Taehyung wants to gulp, but can’t because his throat is beginning to constrict. 

“Look. What do you think of this spot?” Jungkook asks and slows down on a small clearing. A patch of grass is stretching its green arms to the sunlight. Small forest flowers break up the lush green in specks of white and yellow. The spot is romantic and intimate. Jungkook knows that Taehyung will like it, so he gets worried when the latter doesn’t answer him.

He looks at him. Taehyung is staring into nothingness with glassy eyes. He is at the same time breathing heavily and not breathing at all.

“Tae?” Jungkook tries, giving his hand a gentle shake.

Taehyung doesn’t react, so Jungkook tries again.

“Taehyung?” he says a little louder.

When Taehyung doesn’t react again, he places himself in front of him and cups his cheeks.

“Taehyung, hey.”

Taehyung flinches, blinking his eyes a few times before they finally focus on Jungkook.

“I lost you for a moment. Are you okay?” 

Taehyung grows embarrassed instantly, “please forgive me”, he whispers, trying to lower his head, but Jungkook doesn’t let him.

“Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong”, he assures him and brushes his thumb over his cheeks, “what’s the matter? Where did you go when I lost you?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“You can’t say yet?”

He nods his head.

“Is it too painful?” 

He hesitates, but nods his head in the end.

“I understand. Well, I’m glad that you’re back again and if you want to, you can talk to me.” 

Taehyung nods his head and leans into Jungkook’s touch. He closes his eyes and sighs in relief.

“Now. What do you think of this spot? I think it’s very romantic”, Jungkook asks in order to take his mind off of whatever haunted him before. 

Taehyung peels his eyes open and looks around for a bit. His face gains a happy glow as more and more seconds pass and soon, he carries an honest smile on his lips. 

“I love this spot. It is so romantic”, he says.

“Yeah, right? Let’s set up our picnic here. Come on, teamwork. we’ll put down the blanket together.”

“Yes, alright”, Taehyung says with newly found joy in his voice. 

The two men work perfectly together to prepare the picnic. They lay out the blanket, put down a few pillows and spread out the containers of food. Jungkook hands them to him and Taehyung opens the lids. It is truly perfect teamwork and only a few moments later, the picnic is set up. 

Jungkook and Taehyung are facing each other because it naturally happened this way. Obviously, both men have their shoes off. Jungkook leans back on his hands and stretches out his legs.

“Ah”, he sighs contently, “that’s life. Picnics in nature are the best.” 

He closes his eyes and tilts his face up into the sun. The light feels warm on his skin, filling him with a sense of freedom. He missed the sunlight so much. In the real world, he can’t stay in it for too long because his sensitive eyes would begin aching way too much. Jungkook really treasures the sunny moments here.

Taehyung watches him with a racing heart. Every single inch of his face is perfect. His jawline, his chin, his lips, his nose and forehead. The way his eyes look closed and how his cheeks are so soft. Because he is human in this world, Jungkook’s skin finally looks alive again. It is golden in the sunlight. Taehyung doesn’t exaggerate. He truly thinks that his skin looks as if made out of pure gold. 

Taehyung reaches for his paper and gouache paints and begins sketching what he sees. Taehyung imagines everything in shapes of different colours when he paints. Humans, animals, nature and architecture are basically all just made up of different shapes in different colours to him, which he will replicate in his art until it shows what he sees. Taehyung thinks that Jungkook’s shapes are the most beautiful shapes he has seen in a man’s face in a long time. 

Jungkook moves out of the position when he doesn’t hear Taehyung after a few moments. Worry is prominent in his eyes, he must have thought Taehyung was lost in painful thoughts again.

“What are you doing?” he asks him, studying him.

Taehyung lifts his head and widens his eyes.

“Please don’t move. I am not done yet.”

“Are you drawing me?”

“Yes, please move back to how you were before.”

Jungkook chuckles and does as he is told.

“Like this?”

“No, not like this. Tilt it further.”

Jungkook fixes his head.

“Like this?” 

“No, wait”, Taehyung says and gets on his knees so he could reach for Jungkook’s head. He fixes his position in his stead, oblivious to Jungkook’s eyes on him until he goes to fix the strands of hair on his forehead. Jungkook is smiling at him, letting his pretty eyes run over his face. There is fond playfulness sparkling in them.

Taehyung flusters, pulling his fingers away. 

“Forgive me. I didn’t ask for permission to touch”, he whispers, feeling mesmerised by Jungkook’s eyes.

Jungkook stays quiet, which makes Taehyung nervous.

“I am sorry”, he says, “really.”

Jungkook reaches up and brushes the back of his hand over Taehyung’s chin.

“You’re so handsome”, he whispers.

“What?” Taehyung breathes, feeling lightheaded.

“You’re so handsome”, Jungkook says and smiles, tracing his thumb over Taehyung’s lips.

They part. His eyes lower. His cheeks flush.

“Oh god”, Taehyung presses out and falls back with his face hidden in his hands, “please stop it.”

“Why? You’re normally not that shy.”

“Because you aren’t like this normally.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying. I’m just as I always am.” 

“No you are not, you are looking at me.”

“Why am I not allowed to look at you?” Jungkook laughs and closes the distance between them to overwhelm Taehyung. He pushes him to his back, grabbing his wrists to pin them above his head. 

“Ah”, Taehyung moans softly, having to gasp for air afterwards. 

Jungkook is pinning him down, staring so deeply into his eyes, Taehyung feels dizzy. 

“Mhm? Why am I not allowed to look at you?” Jungkook whispers in a slight rasp. 

“I, I”, Taehyung stutters, but can’t think of anything to say.

Jungkook chuckles and places a kiss on Taehyung’s jawline. The latter arches his back and sighs, parting his legs for something which never comes. 

“You’re so cute, Tae”, Jungkook whispers and breaks away to return to the pose.

Taehyung needs a few moments to function again. He lies still on the blanket, staring at the sky with a racing heart. The spot Jungkook kissed is tingling uncontrollably, his stomach is spilling over with butterflies. He is done for, isn’t he? 

In the past, Taehyung was the one to fluster Jungkook, to steal his breath and make him malfunction with just a touch. Not anymore, not when true feelings are involved. Nothing but a look is already enough to mess up his thoughts, a touch truly renders him useless. Taehyung is so done for.

“Are you going to paint me?” Jungkook asks. 

“Forgive me, I”, Taehyung sits up and tries to fix his hair. His fingers shake a little as he reaches for his brush, “ye-yes I am. Please uhm, please hold still.”

Jungkook chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he says and closes his eyes.

They spent quiet like this, but it is never truly silent. The song of birds, the humming of insects and the rushing of the wind keeps them company. Taehyung’s brush makes a faint sound as he guides it over the paper. It doesn’t take him long to finish his sketch. He has been painting for more than eight hundred years after all.

“You are allowed to move again.”

“Yeah? Did I turn out well?” Jungkook asks and tries to look.

“No peeking”, Taehyung says and moves the paper away, “I want to finish it first.”

“Alright, if you say so”, Jungkook chuckles and sits back. He shifts his eyes to the picnic, “you don’t mind if I start eating, do you?”

“No, go ahead.” 

“Mhhm nice. Oh all of that looks so yummy. Mhm what should I take first? Uh gimbap”, Jungkook mumbles to himself as he fills his plate with a variety of foods.

Once his plate is finished, he prepares one for Taehyung as well. He places it next to him, laughing when he moves the paper away panickedly.

“I wasn’t tryna peek, just made you food.”

“Oh. Thank you”, Taehyung says with a blush. 

“Enjoy”, Jungkook says and pecks his pink cheek, before sitting back to begin eating. 

He does so with his eyes scanning over the scenic view. The sunlight breaks through the leaf canopy perfectly so that the sun rays are visible. There are small bugs and butterflies fluttering in the lights. 

“I think I wanna paint the forest”, Jungkook says and busies himself by setting up his painting station. He makes breaks for snacking every now and then.

“The forest is a wonderful motive”, Taehyung murmurs with his mouth stuffed with food. He truly enjoys the taste. Jungkook is a very talented cook.

“Yeah, I agree. Have you been painting for long?” 

“Yes, all my life. Even when I was still human, I painted in my spare time.”

“Damn, then you’ve been painting for forever.”

“I truly enjoy it. Painting, or art in general, brings me great peace of mind. I find myself truly zone out whenever I create art.”

“I get that. My brain sorta shuts off too when I paint.”

“So you paint as well?”

“I do, yeah. Just not as passionately as you.”

“I see. Did you paint as a human as well?” 

“No, not really. I was more of a drawing kinda guy back then. I always loved the sketches I did, but hated colouring them. I honestly still do. I prefer to draw than to paint.” 

“I see. I really love drawing as well, but I prefer painting.”

“It suits you.”

“What does that mean?” Taehyung asks, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Just that painting suits you”, he smiles, “it’s a compliment.”

“Oh”, he flusters, looking away, “thank you.”

Jungkook feels warm fondness in his chest for Taehyung. He is genuinely so cute when he flusters.

“Okay, idea. What are your top five art forms?” he asks because he wants to keep talking to him.

“My top five art forms?” 

“Yes, painting, sculpting, stuff like that. What are your top five? They don’t have to be in order, just what do you love the most?” 

“No one ever asked me that before.”

“I thought it could be fun. Normal date questions can be so boring.”

Taehyung flusters. A date. He is truly on a date. He almost forgets about his answer because of how giddy he feels.

“Well then, uhm”, he begins, “I would say that painting is my most favourite, I enjoy pottery a great deal and the entire process of painting the pieces. I would also consider embroidery to be one of my favourites.”

“Embroidery?”

“Yes, I like it.”

“That’s so cool. I never tried embroidery before, but I think it’s such an impressive art skill.”

Taehyung studies Jungkook’s features. Jungkook doesn’t hate him, does he? He is actually interested in him. Taehyung doesn’t need to feel like a pitiful beggar because there is nothing he needs to beg for with Jungkook. He gives him attention and interest willingly. Taehyung cannot put his feelings into words yet, but what Jungkook is doing right now feels healing to Taehyung. 

“It is so much fun. I really love it”, Taehyung says and takes a deep breath. The air filling his lungs feels so good all of a sudden. 

“You have to show me how to do it one day. I would love to learn.”

“Yes. Yes, I can teach you”, Taehyung says, bouncing on the spot excitedly. 

Jungkook grins, “awesome. I’ll take you up on your offer then. Now back to the question, give me two more.”

Jungkook is so interested in him. Holy fuck, Taehyung feels like finally diving up for air after an endless battle under water. He talks with his heart racing addictingly in his chest.

“I would also say that I enjoy writing poetry a great deal and my fifth thing would be” he thinks for a moment, “does music count?”

“Of course it does.”

“Then I would say that I truly enjoy music. Making it or writing it. I love it.”

“These are good answers. They fit you all so well.”

Taehyung blushes. They fit him. His favourite art fits him. 

“Thank you”, he whispers with a racing pulse. This is what being human is about. Racing heartbeats because of love.

“Now ask me a question. Let’s make a game out of it. We take turns asking questions.”

“Oh, I love this idea. I shall think of a question.”

“Don’t be shy. Every question is allowed. Even dirty ones.”

Taehyung blushes, “don’t say that.”

Jungkook laughs.

Taehyung takes in the sound and puts it into his memory drawer of favourite things. He studies Jungkook for a moment. He wants to get the first question right. Jungkook’s first question was so perfect that Taehyung doesn’t want to disappoint. Jungkook bites off from his sandwich. Food! Taehyung has the first question!

“Have you been cooking for long?” 

“Yes, I liked to occasionally cook as a human, then had to give it up for a while because of my curse, but when I moved in with Seokjin and Hoseok joined us, I picked it up again.”

“That is so wonderful. I never learned how to cook.”

“I can teach you.”

“Oh? Oh no”, Taehyung shakes his head and laughs, “it’s rotten work.”

“Not to me.” 

Taehyung stops laughing. He meets Jungkook’s eyes. The latter smiles sweetly.

“Not to me it’s not. I can teach you”, he says. 

Something inside Taehyung snaps. Or shifts into its rightful place. Whatever the case, Taehyung cannot take the feelings in his chest and so he acts. 

He closes the distance between him and Jungkook, grasping his face to pull him into a kiss. A kiss so passionate he feels tears well up in his eyes.

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out in surprise, closing his eyes after a few moments of baffled blinking. 

He laughs into the kiss, combing his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. The kiss is so passionate. So desperate. Filled with such urgent pleas. Jungkook soon feels his composure falter. He was never kissed like this before. He was kissed with passion, with desire, with desperation, with warm love and adoration, but he was never kissed with such suffocating urgency before. He was never kissed as if it was the only remedy to an ache unknown, as if his lips carried the only spark of life a dying flame clings to.

When Taehyung breaks the kiss, Jungkook feels just a little out of it. Not in a sexual way, but in a deeply emotional way. His lips still taste his kiss, his scalp still feels the paths his fingers took. 

“Can I be yours?” Taehyung whispers shakily, resting his forehead against Jungkook’s.

“Tae…”

“Please. I, I know I am rushing it. I know that I am too much and that I am not easiest to like, but-”

Jungkook places his finger against Taehyung’s lips. Taehyung exhales shakily.

“Tae, why are you asking this? You’re already mine.”

“I am?” 

Jungkook nods his head, breaking away from him just so he can cup his cheek. Taehyung gazes up at him, holding his breath. The adoration in Jungkook’s eyes is honest and goes so very deep.

“You’ve been mine for months. Do you think that I see this as a casual fling?”

“I don’t know”, Taehyung whispers.

“Well, I don’t. I don’t do flings, I do it seriously or I don’t do it at all. You’ve been mine for months now.” 

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and overwhelmed by his feelings, he falls around Jungkook’s neck in a tight hug.

Jungkook chuckles fondly, hugging him back.

“I was so worried.”

“I could tell. Don’t be anymore, I want this to be serious just as much as you do.”

Taehyung lets out a relieved laugh and buries his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He sobs softly afterwards, grabbing a bundle of his hair to hold it for support. He needs it. He would be lost without it.

“Hey, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” Jungkook asks worriedly.

“I haven’t felt like this for a man in decades. I feel so young again. So, so…so…I feel so alive.” 

“You’re so sweet, Tae. I feel really happy as well.” 

Taehyung sits back on his feet, taking Jungkook’s hands. His glassy eyes never leave his’, racing between them in adoring obsession.

“I love being queer when I can feel this way.”

“You do?”

Taehyung nods his head, “I witnessed many phases of humanity and how it handled us. Most weren’t good. But the way you make me feel makes me so happy to be who I am.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. Oh yes, I am so happy. I am queer”, he spills tears, smiling, “I am queer and I am free and I, I”, he falters, furrowing his brows as his lower lip trembles.

“Go on”, Jungkook encourages him in a whisper, thumb caressing his knuckles slowly.

“I am in love with you. I am so deeply in love with you that I could fill galaxies with it. This isn’t desire. I could go without sleeping with you if that is what you asked. I could miss out on sex. I could. I, I truly could be-because what makes me happiest is being with you.”

Taehyung fights for air before he continues.

“You have no idea what this means. I live for sex, I enjoy it, I desire it, I need it. But if we never made love again, I wouldn’t miss it because I could still be with you. I love you so much that I finally know what it is to love.” 

Silence. Taehyung is panting for air. Jungkook studies his face.

“God Tae”, he says “you really held back on a lot, didn’t you?”

Taehyung shies away. His chest tightens. He was too much. Came off as overbearing and as if he wanted to bury Jungkook in love. 

“I’m sorry”, he chokes out.

“No, god I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a negative way. I’m happy that you are letting it out. I wanna be someone you can share your feelings with safely”, Jungkook says and tilts his head up so their eyes reconnect, “okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, feeling the warmth return to his chest. 

“I’m happy to be queer as well, Tae. I grew up in a very conservative, queerphobic time, so to be surrounded by people like us and to have the opportunity to love freely, makes me so happy to be queer.” 

Taehyung agrees with a nod of his head. 

“And I love spending time with you as well. You are cute and gentle and you have a good heart. I know you’re older than me, but I want to protect you and take care of you. It makes my heart race and I know it’s because I’m falling in love with you, I can feel that I am.” 

“You do? You really do?” 

“I do”, Jungkook smiles, “I don’t lie about love. If I say something, I mean it.”

“Oh”, Taehyung gets out and hugs him, “I’m so happy.”

The two men hug for quite a while. They settle back in their places after the hug, but sit a lot closer together. Their knees are touching at all times, sometimes Taehyung or Jungkook reaches over to caress the other’s leg. Taehyung can’t stop sneaking glances at Jungkook and neither can the latter. It feels good to know that the other felt the same.

“Were you in a queer relationship before our poly family?” Taehyung asks and picks his paint brush back up. He can barely paint. He is so giddy that his hand is shaking in a positive way.

“No”, Jungkook shakes his head, “the only relationship I had before our poly family was with my human sweetheart. Otherwise, I wasn’t in any kind of relationship before our poly family. I tried not to kill people by staying away from them.” 

“I see. I am sorry. Life must be so lonely as a Ripper or Glutton.” 

“It really fucking is”, Jungkook says and despite his words, smiles at Taehyung, “but I’m not lonely anymore. I have our family. My past was sad, but my present isn’t anymore.” 

Taehyung smiles, “that is so good to hear. You deserve it.” 

“Thanks. Yeah”, Jungkook says and looks at his painting. He looks just a little shy. Shy, but also content. 

Taehyung studies his face for a little while, enjoying the way his heart races in his chest. He reaches out and caresses his leg. 

“So you didn’t even try anything with Hoseok or Seokjin?” he asks.

Jungkook lowers his paint brush, looking at the trees as he thinks. 

“Not really? Not actual sex at least. I was too out of control, I would have just ended up ripping their heads off.”

“I see. How terrible.”

Jungkook agrees with a nod of his head.

“We did cuddle a lot, but that’s not queer, that’s just being really good friends.”

“Of course. Good friends can cuddle just as well as partners can.”

“Exactly”, Jungkook smiles fondly, “I love them both so much. They saved me. I think I would have killed myself eventually if I had never met them.” 

Taehyung furrows his brows. Jungkook meets his worried eyes. He touches the side of his neck awkwardly.

“I know, heavy stuff. Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise. Please don’t ever apologise for that”, Taehyung insists, shaking his head, “I understand. You had no support system, killed against your will and had to cope with it alone. Of course your situation drove you to consider suicide. I am so happy that you held out for as long as you did, so you could meet them. This world would have been a sad one without you in it. You are such a strong person, you truly are.”

Jungkook lowers his eyes, touching his chest.

“Well fuck, nobody ever called me a strong person for this. It took so much strength to keep going, so uhm, yeah. Thanks. Seriously, thanks.”

Taehyung holds Jungkook’s hand gently.

“I was truthful”, he whispers.

“I know”, Jungkook whispers as well, lifting his eyes.

Taehyung gazes at him, giving him a shy smile the moment their eyes meet. Jungkook leans in to place a soft kiss on Taehyung’s lips. The latter receives it with a fluttering heart. Jungkook pulls back afterwards, giving him a grin. He picks his paintbrush back up and continues painting. 

Taehyung looks at him for just a second longer before continuing his painting as well. 

“So who was your first ever queer experience?”

“Yoongi.”

“Indeed?” 

“Yeah. God, it’s so embarrassing to think about because I was so out of control back then”, Jungkook says as he has to laugh.

“Really? Tell me about it”, Taehyung snickers as well.

“God, it’s so embarrassing. We didn’t even try a lot. He just touched my cock and I already spiralled. I called him a fucker and tried to rip his jugular out.”

“Oh heavens.”

“Yeah, he had to use force to pin me down and then used his compulsion to calm me down. I kept snapping at him and growling like a fucking idiot. I was such a mess back then”, Jungkook says and laughs.

Taehyung joins him, staring at his lips the entire time.

“That does indeed sound like a very wild time.”

“It was. It really was. God”, Jungkook snorts in amusement, “I felt so bad afterwards and kept crying and beating myself up about it, but Yoongi stayed calm and comforted me. That’s why I can laugh about it these days. It could have become another bad memory, but I look back at it fondly.”

“Of course. It shows how far you have come.”

Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes in surprise. He understands.

“Exactly. Yeah, that’s right”, he breathes.

Taehyung smiles shyly, lowering his eyes at his painting. He feels giddy when Jungkook looks at him. He really does.

Jungkook studies his face for a few more moments. He starts to understand what Taehyung means. He hasn’t really felt this way about another man ever and it is a very good feeling. He feels really young and giddy this way. 

“Did you always know that you weren’t hetero?” Taehyung asks.

“Mhm, I don’t know. I don’t think so”, Jungkook says, looking at the trees as he thinks, “I honestly felt really happy in my heterosexuality when I was human and I also didn’t really consider other men as attractive. Of course I could see that some were handsome, but I wasn’t attracted to them.” 

“I see. So you discovered yourself when you were already turned.”

“I did, yeah. And you? You told me once that you first thought that you were just gay.”

“I told you that?”

“Yeah, in the car. After we hate fucked.”

Taehyung laughs, Jungkook does as well.

“You remember this all this time?” 

“Of course I do.”

“Oh”, Taehyung says and lowers his eyes. 

Jungkook watches him with growing worry in his chest. He keeps making himself small with each confirmation that Jungkook feels the same. As if he didn’t want to believe that he was worthy of affection. 

“Is it my turn to ask you a question?” Jungkook asks him.

Taehyung nods his head, still staring at his hands.

“What troubles you lately?” 

Taehyung looks up in shock.

“This is your question?” 

Jungkook nods his head. 

Taehyung looks away. He stays silent for a long time, losing himself deep in his thoughts. What isn’t troubling him? How does he put something into words which he doesn’t understand either? He can’t find an answer in the end.

“Can you please ask something else?” 

“That’s okay, I can do that”, Jungkook assures him, “how many queer relationships were you in before our poly family?” 

Taehyung relaxes again.

“Serious or casual?” 

“Both.”

“Oh heavens, casual way too many to count. I am quite frankly, such a whore.”

Jungkook laughs, Taehyung does as well.

“As for serious, I would say that I had four serious relationships before our poly family.”

“Four you say? Are they still alive?”

“No, they were all human. I loved them all very much. Their loss ached very deeply.”

“I can imagine. I’m so sorry, Tae.”

“I have healed from it”, he assures him and leans in to kiss him.

Jungkook lets it happen with a fluttering heart. He gazes when the kiss breaks.

“What was that for?” he whispers 

“Because I feel so happy to be with you”, Taehyung whispers.

“I see. Then I gotta steal one too, don’t I?” he says and takes Taehyung’s cheeks to use them as leverage to push him onto the blanket. Taehyung falls with a laugh. 

They shove and push the picnic and paintings aside, losing themselves in the kiss seconds later. They will be lost in it for a long time. They will use this time in the sweetest, most healing way possible with tangled limbs and dancing lips, mixing in innocent touches and sighs of each other’s names. 

And they will make each other feel good. It will feel so incredibly good to them that their hearts will beat in sync through it all. And it will be innocent. It will be the sweet, innocent exchange of touches between two people who are so freely themselves when they are together.

The sun is in the midst of setting already when Taehyung feels the need to share what had burdened him for months. A blanket cocoons them in, keeping their bodies warm in the sinking temperatures. They are on their backs, watching the sky change colours. Jungkook’s body is touching Taehyung’s, sharing warmth this way. Jungkook has his arm stretched to the side, Taehyung is resting his head on it.

“Can you keep secrets?” Taehyung whispers.

“I tend to forget a lot of what other people tell me, so I can definitely keep a secret because I’ll forget it again.”

Taehyung laughs loudly, craning his neck to look at Jungkook.

“I mean it”, Jungkook snickers. 

“I know, I just thought that it was funny.”

“Yeah, I know”, Jungkook grins, “now what’s up? What secret do you wanna tell me?” 

Taehyung rolls his head back into a more comfortable position. Despite his muscles, Jungkook’s arm is very comfortable to rest on.

“I think it is more of an empty talk about my feelings than an actual secret.”

“That’s okay too. I can listen.” 

“I sometimes dream of being controlled. Of being told what to do, how to act, where to sit or stand or lie, what to wear. I dream of it. Dream of having every single aspect of my life dictated.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung with slightly widened eyes, while the latter is too lost in his rant to notice.

“And the thing is? I haven’t figured out whether it is a trauma thing or not. For many, many centuries I didn’t have freedom and lived under constant mind control. I had someone controlling me, but he hurt me as well. A lot.”

“It’s okay”, Jungkook whispers and holds Taehyung’s hand. He heard the tremble in his voice and needed to be there for him. 

Taehyung speaks easier with Jungkook’s support.

“I shouldn’t want to be controlled again, but I still dream of it. I truly do. I want to put myself into the hands of another and let them decide what is best for me. Is this wrong of me?” 

“You asked me too quickly. I need to think about it for a little.”

“No, please. This was just a rhetorical question, please don’t tell me your stance on it.”

“Why not? It could be good.”

“And if it is not? I cannot bear to be ridiculed, I am not stable enough for it.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung, the latter can’t bear to meet his eyes.

“Are you currently having a hard time?” Jungkook asks quietly. 

“I think I might”, Taehyung confesses, “it hasn’t been that long since our situation has truly calmed down and I feel very lost these days.”

“You do?” 

Taehyung nods his head, “my life is so different to how it once was. All of our lives are. In the past, Yoongi rarely left his wing, let alone conversed with us, but these days he is spending time with us and talking with us. You, ___, Seokjin, Hoseok and Emma weren’t part of my life either and suddenly you live with us. Peace was never truly lasting for Jimin and me, but now it is our new reality. I am aware that our dynamic changed when we travelled the lands in search for Namjoon, but I feel like we didn’t have time yet to truly bond.”

“We didn’t have time yet to make sense of our situation.”

“Exactly. We didn’t have time yet to truly let it set in. At least this is how I feel. I feel so lost because everything changed so much and now I do not know what to do. How do I live freely? How do I find happiness? How do I…”

Taehyung looks away, touching his chest.

“How do I heal?” he whispers.  

“God Tae”, Jungkook whispers and rolls to his side. He gets on his elbow, closing the distance to Taehyung to place a tender kiss on his temple. He hugs his head gently, massaging his scalp slowly and keeping his lips against his temple. 

“I do not know how to live my life now that I am free and I think that it gives me a hard time. I am restless and nervous and scared to settle. What if I settle and then something ruins it again? What if I make peace with the fact that I am free only to be captured again? What if I allow myself to heal only to be hurt again? What if”, Taehyung gulps, reaching for Jungkook’s chest, “Jungkook, I think I might struggle more than I initially thought. My heart is beating uncomfortably. I don’t like this sensation, my throat is so tight.”

“You’re safe. You’re in the beginning of a panic attack, but you’re safe”, Jungkook comforts him, rubbing his chest in slow circles, “try to follow my breathing. I know it’s difficult, but you’re not gonna die. Promise.” 

Taehyung listens to Jungkook’s comforting words and finds healing in breathing with him. He felt smothered by his thoughts. Small, fragile and incapable of carrying their weight, but breathing helps. His pulse, which once tortured him, becomes bearable again. The rope once tightening around his throat dissolves again. 

“There we go”, Jungkook caresses his cheek, “you did it. I’m so proud of you.”

Taehyung closes his eyes and leans into Jungkook’s palm. 

“How did you know what was happening to me?”

“Experience. I didn’t have the easiest life as a human once I was drafted. I had a lot of panic attacks in the barracks and the trenches and I helped many of my comrades as well.”

“I see.”

“That’s why I’m so sorry that you feel this way. I understand how you feel so well.” 

“You do?”

“Of course. When something changes you as a person as drastically as trauma does, it is difficult to relearn yourself. And it’s only natural to feel restless and lost in calm moments when your life consisted of pain and trauma for so long.”

Jungkook brushes Taehyung’s tears away.

“I know that our traumas aren’t the same, but I also felt like you feel right now when I first had a holiday from the frontlines. Life back home was relatively normal, nobody changed drastically and I should have found peace in resting, but I couldn’t. I had changed. I woke up screaming, crying and throwing up from my nightmares, every loud sound felt like torture to me, my sweetheart’s affection made me uncomfortable and I kept shaking even in calm moments. My family had no idea how to help me and I had no idea how to live a peaceful life anymore because peace felt like mockery to me after everything I went through at the frontlines.” 

“I’m so sorry. Oh Kook, war is terrible. I hate that men never learn. It shouldn’t happen. It never should have. What an awful way to solve disagreements. What an awful, inhuman way.” 

“I agree”, Jungkook says and rests his forehead against Taehyung’s, “but what I want to say by sharing this part of me, is that you’re not alone. Our traumas may have different origins, but I understand how lost you feel in the peace and how anxious this makes you.” 

Taehyung whimpers softly, spilling tears against his will. Jungkook wipes them, keeping close to Taehyung.

“It gets easier, I promise. I never officially returned from the war because I became a Ripper before that, but I still experienced trauma afterwards and when I began to settle with Seokjin, I felt just as lost again because peace wasn’t an option for so long. It gets easier with time, I promise.”

“How long did it take you?”

“A few years.”

“Oh”, Taehyung gets out and sobs softly, “years.”

“It could be different for you. I wasn’t in control back, so obviously I didn’t have absolute peace. But your situation is different and maybe it won’t take you years to be comfortable in the peace. Oh Tae, it’s okay. Let it all out”, Jungkook says and works diligently to wipe every tear Taehyung spills. 

“I don’t know why I am crying.”

“It’s okay. That’s all part of the healing. Let it happen.” 

And so Taehyung cries. He cries in grief for the person he could have been if he had never gone through hell. He cries in relief from being freed of this hell. And he cries in sweet realisation that he wasn’t alone in this, that he had Jungkook offering him comfort. He cries for many reasons and it felt good to do so. 

His thoughts are clearer after the cry, his chest not that heavy. 

Jungkook changed positions by now, resting on his side propped up on his elbow and with his hand drying his tears. 

Taehyung rolls to his side, looking up at him. He stopped crying many breaths ago. Jungkook still cradles his cheek and brushes his thumb under his eyes slowly.

“I feel better”, Taehyung whispers.

“That’s good to hear. You did really well. I know crying sucks, but it’s so healthy for you. Don’t ever hold it back.”

“It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

“That’s understandable. Come to me whenever you feel like crying. I’ll pay you company as you do.”

“What if it happens often?”

“Then I’ll pay you company until often turns into occasionally and sometimes until it finally turns into rarely.” 

“Oh.”

Jungkook brushes his thumb over Taehyung’s temple.

“You’re not a burden, Tae. You aren’t too much or overbearing. You never were and never will be. Not for me and not for our family.”

Taehyung places his shaky hands on Jungkook’s chest. 

“Can you control me?” he gets out.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Please can you control me? I don’t know what to do, but you do. Can you be the one to control me?”

Jungkook’s eyes soften.

“Oh Tae”, he whispers, “no, I won’t. You will always be free with me.”

“Please. I’m begging you. I don’t know what to do.”

“Then I’ll be with you as you walk the unknown path.” 

“Oh.”

“I won’t promise you anything like control, because I don’t ever want to take advantage of you, but one thing you can always count on is me. I’ll carry burdens which are too heavy for you, I’ll show you the way and you can always lean on me, okay?”

Taehyung nods his head.

“Okay”, Jungkook says and kisses Taehyung’s forehead. 

Taehyung exhales shakily, chasing the affection with closed eyes.

“Sweetheart”, Jungkook whispers and kisses his lips gently. He had no ulterior motive behind the kiss, no ill intent. But Taehyung is fragile and confused, lost in a situation he knows not to handle healthily.

Taehyung whimpers into the kiss, he chases it, deepens it with trembling lips. His hands slide to Jungkook’s small waist, his breath is instantly quickened, his heart races unbearably. He kneads Jungkook’s waist, touches it, grasps it. He needs to make sure he stays. He needs to stay please. Taehyung whimpers again, lips shaking against Jungkook’s, and then he slides his hands under his shirt to feel his naked skin. 

Jungkook breaks the kiss with a gentle “hey”, followed by a chuckled, “what are you doing?” 

“I’m yours, please I’m yours so, so claim me.”

“Claim you?” 

Taehyung pushes at Jungkook’s chest to gain space. The younger man lets him, gawking at him in confusion. Taehyung hooks his fingers in his own shirt and pulls it over his head.

“Tae, no wait-” 

He is shirtless, panting heavily but his eyes carried discomfort Taehyung wasn’t even aware that he felt it.

“God Tae, what are you doing?” Jungkook gasps.

“Take me, I-I can serve you well”, Taehyung stutters, presenting himself in an arch of his back. There are tears in his eyes and fragility in his voice. 

Jungkook studies his naked torso for a second, exhaling deeply. He takes Taehyung’s discarded shirt and unbuttons it.

Taehyung puts his hands together and presents them to Jungkook, thinking that he wants to tie him up with the shirt. 

But Jungkook doesn’t. Jungkook cradles his hands and holds them one by one as he slides the sleeves back on. He smoothes out the shirt on his back and closes it again in the front. 

“I don’t understand. Do you not want me?”

“I do, just not like this.”

“Is it because I’m human? I, I can make myself pretty, I-”

“No Tae”, Jungkook cups his cheek, silencing his anxious words, “no Tae” he whispers, “you’re beautiful. So incredibly beautiful.” 

Taehyung lowers his eyes. Jungkook continues with the buttons. 

“But you seem unstable to me.”

Taehyung meets Jungkook’s eyes again.

“Consent is more than just believing someone’s words. It’s about reading the situation and I can tell that you don’t really know what you actually want right now.”

Taehyung sniffles in order not to cry. It has been a long time since someone saw him.

“Let’s drink something for now, okay?” Jungkook suggests, rubbing his upper arms soothingly.

Taehyung nods his head.

“Okay. Do you want lemonade?”

“Yes”, he whispers.

“Okay. Me too. I think lemonade is really yummy. You?” Jungkook asks, preparing the fruity drink.

“Me too”, Taehyung whispers, accepting the cup from Jungkook. 

Jungkook clings cups with him, making him giggle and lift his shoulders to his ears in shyness. 

Jungkook smiles at him, draping his arm around his waist.

“I like hearing you giggle, Tae. You’re really cute.”

“I am?”

Jungkook kisses his cheek, “you are.”

Taehyung whimpers and snuggles his face into his neck, squeezing his waist tightly.

“Thank you.”

“It’s the truth. You’re cute.”

“No. Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For stopping it.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, tightening his jaw. How many people ignored the signs and took advantage of Taehyung’s unstable attempts to “serve”? He shouldn’t thank him. Not for something that should be the bare minimum. Jungkook is a very protective person. Once he loves a person (in whatever form that love comes) he will literally burn the world for them. He feels numbing anger right now, wanting to hurt whoever took advantage of Taehyung. But he doesn’t let it show for Taehyung’s sake, speaking softly with the mentally fragile man.

“You’ll always be safe with me, Tae.” 

“I know”, his voice is shaky as he speaks. 

“It’ll never change. You’re safe and I’m gonna keep you safe.”

Taehyung exhales shakily and while it was shaking, it carried the first indicator of stableness in it. Just a little, just enough that Jungkook knows that all Taehyung really needs right now is a shoulder to lean on and someone being gentle with his words.

“I don’t think I enjoy being dominant as much as I thought I did”, Taehyung confesses quietly.

Jungkook tries to glance at him as best as possible.

“Not in a sexual context, but in general. I crave to be taken care of. I ache for it.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. You are in a vulnerable mental state. It’s okay to want to be taken care of.”

Taehyung lifts his head, looking up at Jungkook with glassy eyes.

“Will you take care of me? Please? At least this?” he asks – begs – him.

“Of course Tae, I’ll take care of you.” 

“Oh god”, Taehyung chokes out and buries his face in Jungkook’s chest, “this felt so good to hear.”

Jungkook closes his arms around him, massaging his scalp slowly.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Yeah, let’s stay like this for a while.”

#taehyung romance #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #jungkook romance #jungkook fluff #jungkook x taehyung #taehyung x jungkook #bts romance #bts fluff #bangtan romance #bangtan fluff #bangtan x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #fanfic: caerula luna

[brookreader]

I think the main problem with a lot of Morgan le Fay characterizations is that they focus too much on the angst and not enough on the Wile E. Coyote-esque schemes

#look I don’t CARE if you make her a villain or not #the important thing is that she’s a force of chaos #not that the angst isn’t important but like #balance man! #arthurian legends #arthurian legend #arthurian #Morgan le fay #morgana le fay

[akkivee]

prior to this moment, ichiro had been keeping his cool to mediate between samatoki and ramuda until ramuda said wouldn’t nearly have as much fun playing around with kuukou (and sasara lol) and you where else we’ve seen this exact thing happen???? whenever someone insults his bros so that’s how important kuukou (and sasara lol) are to ichiro—

#this is vee speaking #my ichikuu agenda lmao but sasara is part of the ‘adults i respect’ category which is also very important to ichiro lol #i’d love to see more mcd/nb bonding with 1️⃣🎋 and 🐴📿 but similar to tdd kr isn’t too interested in the other pairs lol #anyway i love seeing how important kuukou was to ichiro before realised how important kuukou was to him lol angst ✌️😭✌️ #i love having bravado like i can take the possibility of bb vs bat when i’m a sensitive little shit #and will cry like shinji being called cringe if my faves start fighting each other lol #i hope whatever drama tracks happen before the drb are bonding between their enemy divisions to really drive home that ‘bond then break em’ #suffering is fun ✌️😭✌️ #c: ichibro

[aslisjournal]

#I have a bad habit of developing my film months later #and I have 0 memory of what I took #my cousin and my sis we went to this *fair* we saw on tiktok #I don’t even wanna call it a fair #and it was literally the most ghetto #ratchet #atrocious #thing I’ve ever seen #and I like ghetto but not this type of ghetto #It was basically an empty parking lot #with 3 games #anyways back to the important thing #me #isn’t it sad that you can look at a pic of yourself and just know what you were going through #I was so sad here #lmfao #aren’t I always #I’m just grappling with the idea that life does NOT bend for no man #And I have this personal beef with patience #I’m in a season of angst which feels strange as I’m in my late 20s #I’m allowing myself to be as a I am which is an attempter #I’m going to attempt to touch the sky and see the stars and travel to far places #And be a dreamer with my head in the clouds #for if I cannot be then I will attempt #Cause I really love these things too much to not go for it #so you will most definitely find me in the intersection between desire and suffering #they all know me 🤍 #to me you are suppose to suffer in the attempt #Love is beyond The Self and The Self will always reject and resist that

[mostly-imagines]

So This Is Love

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.

You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.

But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.

You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.

“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.

“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.

You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.

He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.

You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing. 

“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply. 

“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears. 

“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”

All he can do is nod.

You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.

“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.

“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”

He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.

The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.

But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.

There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe. 

He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead. 

He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”

“No, I do not.” 

But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.

The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.

His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.

“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.

You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”

He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”

You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.

“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement. 

“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance. 

You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.  

“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.

In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”

“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.

You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”

Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”

You turn your head towards him, “No?”

He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that. 

“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”

His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.

You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.    

“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.

He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.

You laugh, “Really?”

He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”

“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.

“In my shirt.” He confirms.

You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now. 

“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”

You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”

He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.

You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.

You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.

He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.

“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.

“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support. 

“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.

He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”

He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place. 

“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance. 

He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.

He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”

You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!” 

But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it. 

He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.   

Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.

Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.   

Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.

This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor. 

You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.

It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him. 

You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.

“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.

You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”

He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”

You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”

He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.  

You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”

“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.

“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”  

“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.

You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.    

Before you crash out, you mumble out, “I’m going to be a little passive aggressive in the morning, though.”

“I’d hope so.”

Jason didn’t get it at first.

Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.

Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.

Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.

It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.

You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.

You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.

You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.

His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.

“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.

He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.

“What was that?”

You look at him, “He dropped his books.”

“Yeah, I saw. But why—”

His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”

You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.

A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.

He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.

“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.

Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”

The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.

He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.

He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.

It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.

“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.

He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.

He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.

He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.

Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?

Do you?

There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.

He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”

The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.

You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

#jason todd loves his gf #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

[sttoru]

toji taking care of reader who’s pregnant with gumi

just some pure fluff 😭😭

ෆ tags. (soon-to-be)dad!toji x female reader. fluff. a little sprinkle of angst added, oopsies.

“my wife’s lookin’ real sexy, ey?” toji lets out a low whistle as he leans against the doorframe of the kitchen. it was early in the morning and you were cooking breakfast for your husband since he had gotten home late the night before.

“good morning to you too.” you teasingly roll your eyes at toji’s words. you thought those flirty comments would get less when you got pregnant, but instead, they increased in frequency. toji absolutely adores how you look with a swollen belly full of a new life and he shows it through his actions every day.

toji chuckles and walks up to you, big hands instantly finding their place on your stomach as per usual, “and good mornin’ to megumi.”

megumi, the name meaning ‘blessing’, is what your husband insisted on naming your child ever since he found out you were pregnant. toji’s mind was set on that choice and he was not giving up until you caved in. regardless of the gender of the child, the name was a beautiful one. with a beautiful meaning.

“babe,” toji whispers into your ear after placing a peck on the exposed skin of your shoulder, “come sit down. i’ll take care of breakfast, alright?”

toji detached your hands from the pans and utensils, bringing them to his lips to place soft kisses all over your fingertips. he had gotten more gentle with you over time and you loved it. toji pampered you to the fullest degree: doing almost all chores, cooking dinner and breakfast, making your bed, helping you bathe and getting you whatever you wanted without a single ounce of hesitation.

your husband once drove two whole hours because the stores in the neighbourhood didn’t have that one specific item you craved. and that one time where he called off an important appointment with his agent because you had showed the slightest bit of fatigue.

it’s a blessing bestowed upon him that he gets a chance to have a family of his own. he has never thought about it, not even once. he thought life wouldn’t have mercy on him since he never had any mercy on mankind due to his job as an assassin.

even if work has been hard on him lately; as long as his wife and child are content, he is as well.

“but-” “nu-uh. sit down.” toji insists and carefully guides you to sit on a chair near the kitchen table. he kneels before you, one hand on your belly and the other intertwined with yours. he lowers his head to your round tummy and kisses it like he always does in the mornings, “just relax and let y’r hubby do it for ya, alright? i’ll finish breakfast.”

it isn’t like you don’t want toji to do it, it’s just that.. it always looks like there’s been an invasion in your kitchen every time he cooks. plus, the food ends up burnt at the sides sometimes. you still give in and nod. toji was trying his best to be the caring and loving husband after all, “okay, okay. thank you.”

toji grins from ear to ear and pinches your cheek gently. before he gets up from his position in front of you, toji puts his ear on your stomach, softly rubbing the sides over your shirt with his hands; “megumi, be nice to your mama today, alright? no causing her problems or you’ll get in trouble, kid.”

toji’s playful words never fail to gain a laugh from you. your husband never misses the chance to have a ‘conversation’ with his child. it’s turned into part of his daily routine at this point. sometimes he’ll scold megumi, sometimes he tries to whistle a fun tune to his unborn child.

toji’s already got such a special bond with your baby. it’s his first born and he’s determined to not mess things up.

even if parenthood can be difficult to new parents: you have each other to count on.

#ෆ : parenting 101. #jjk x reader #toji x reader #jjk fluff #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you

[marlenesluv]

lando + dealing with his gf after cheating scandals

note: i do not view lando as a cheater in any way, shape, or form. but, amidst the new lando and magui rumors, i thought, “hmmm, what if these rumors circulated while he had a gf, aka reader, and it was because of lando and said gf not being public. so, mclaren needed pr for lando to be responsible, so they told him to go out with magui, EUGH, and yada yada you’ll get it!” also i changed locations and shit for the plot lol.

important note: it’s not okay to hate on magui, don’t do it. i don’t agree with what she’s done, but hate def isn’t the answer, especially with neither she, nor lando, gaf about what we have to say. i just used her since they have pics together so, you can imagine someone else if you’d like. the focus is lando x reader here :)

type: this is a head-cannon, but there’s mixes of smau.

pairing: lando norris x secret!gf!fem

warnings: angst but there’s fluff, dw

۵ being landos secret girlfriend was difficult at times.

۵ when you were alone at your shared house? easy. you could talk as loud as you wanted, cuddle on the couch for hours, you could be a real couple.

۵ but once lando left for the races, it’s like he was a stranger.

۵ you felt like a fan watching her crush on television. not a girlfriend.

۵ a girlfriend would be there, in person, supporting her boyfriend. she would be there in the paddock, just like lily was. watching alex and hugging him after a race. or like rebecca, smiling up at her boyfriend like he put the stars in the sky as he won a race.

۵ but you? you watched your boyfriend from the couch, working and making sure that he hadn’t crashed between emails.

۵ yeah, lando would text you and call you, but that’s not the same. not when all you want to do is be there for him in person.

۵ but you couldn’t. unfortunately, last time lando had a girlfriend they broke up. they broke up because of the fans. lando felt pressured to move quickly with her, and he didn’t really even want to date like that. he just wanted fun at the time.

۵ not with you, though. you were different. he loved you and knew from the second you two met at the bar that you were meant for him. he loved everything about you. and neither of you wanted fans or media to ruin it.

۵ but nothing everything is avoidable. hearts get broken, even when- no, especially when you least expect it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Liked by: f1wags, f1updates, and 72,194 others

f1wagupdates: update!! lando has been spotted today with magui corceiro in australia after the grand prix! fans saw they saw magui attend the race as well, and now the two and being seen hanging out? do we hear a new wag coming? a new couple?

view comments…

user4: i mean…she’s messy but ok

user1: she’s prettyyyy holy shit

user77: isn’t she friends with kika??

user25: yes!

user3: he doesn’t look happy….

user90: meh

user41: looks forced

user2: my mannnnn

user0: honestly, he needed a new gf. he’s been single foreverrrrr

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

۵ and after those headlines popped up, you were done for.

۵ tears? flowing. tissues? everywhere. landos calls? declined.

۵ you frankly didn’t want to talk to him. the mere idea of him cheating on you made you suck to your stomach.

۵ but maybe it made sense. he wanted a public relationship now…maybe?

۵ lando knew he should have told you. he knew he should have told you that mclaren told him o hangout with her to help pr. to make him seem responsible after the grand prix.

۵ lando knew he fucked up. and after not answering his texts and checking instagram and seeing the gossip posts, he knew why. the tags were insane, and he was stressing.

۵ the only girl he loved didn’t want to talk to him, and he was thousands of miles away.

۵ all because of a stupid pr stunt.

۵ lando booked a flight home as he sent a text to magui:

lando norris: hey, magui. i know this pr thing was supposed to last, but i’m done.

magui: oh…ok?

lando: sorry. can you book a flight for yourself?

magui: i’ll ask kika

magui: tell your girlfriend i’m sorry

lando: ???

magui: you obviously have one, lando. it’s fine. i’m sure she’s beautiful

lando: she is

*lando has blocked this number*

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 1,925,105 others

landonorris: rumors are lame, so here’s the truth. i have a girlfriend, we’ve been dating for two years, and i love her with every fiber of my being. we’ve kept this relationship private for her safety and to go through everything as a pair, not in-front of the world. unfortunately, rumors spread, and they spread fast. but those rumors stem from mclaren pulling this pr move, one to make people think i was in a relationship to make me seem “responsible and mature.” whatever. i am, by the way. but i am in a relationship, not with magui though. i love you @y/n.user ❤️

view comments…

*only certain profiles can reply to this post*

y/n.user: oh my god. get home so i can smack you and then give you a kiss

landonorris: smack me??

y/n.user: you posted my TOES

oscarpiastri: double dates?

landonorris: well that’ll be thrilling

y/n.user: awwww that’s adorable yes

lilyzneimer: i just need to meet y/n too!!💞

danielricciardo: wow, he finally admits it

carlossainz55: i think everyone knew, mate. but ok!

charles_leclerc: congratulations! alex says she can’t wait to meet y/n!!

savnorris: bring her to christmas this year!!

landonorris: i will, don’t fret

olivernorris1: no one was “fretting”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

۵ lando loved you, and he had to prove it once his plane landed.

۵ cuddles for days, home cooked meals (to his best ability), movie nights, appreciation posts, etc.

۵ you moved on from the incident. you understood, especially after an explaining from zak, along with a run down of paddock rules.

۵ races were fun, you loved going and the fans loved you.

۵ oscar’s girlfriend, lily, was wonderful and you two got along perfect. so talking with her while lando and oscar races was nice.

۵ you weren’t fond of how you got here, but you were fond of being here.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#lando norris #f1 #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #lando norris blurb #lando norris hc #lando norris headcannons #lando norris headcannon #ln4 #ln4 smau #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #ln4 x you #ln4 one shot #ln4 angst #smau #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fluff

[irndad]

Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 

“You’re important to me.” 

She has no idea how much. 

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[girlgenius1111]

hallmarks of sisterhood

putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.

-------

Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you. 

It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked. 

As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily. 

All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could. 

-------

“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister. 

“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.

“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.” 

Alba flushed red with anger. 

“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind. 

“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”

“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?” 

“You are such a-”

“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room. 

“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed. 

“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending. 

“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted. 

“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter. 

When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried. 

Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.” 

“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”

“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.  

“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl. 

“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit. 

“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.

“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-” 

It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped. 

“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly. 

“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you. 

You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously. 

They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument. 

You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 

You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong. 

------

You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often. 

Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock. 

Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.

“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.” 

“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer. 

“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos. 

“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go. 

“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile. 

“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room. 

“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics. 

“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it. 

As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up. 

If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so. 

This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you. 

------

The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument. 

You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this. 

If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it. 

You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope. 

Alexia had responded first. 

It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.

Alba responded after that. 

You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.

You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.

-------

You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today. 

You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later. 

You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later. 

“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder. 

You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible. 

“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. 

You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.” 

“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look. 

“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.” 

Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.” 

You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus  on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.

-------

You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included. 

That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall. 

The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image. 

You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life. 

You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous. 

You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically. 

You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful. 

You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song. 

More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters. 

Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly. 

You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her. 

They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.

 You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation. 

“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face. 

“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?” 

You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters. 

Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck! 

Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.

You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come. 

A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt. 

“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly. 

“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head. 

“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.” 

You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others. 

-------

Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right. 

She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face. 

“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly. 

Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?” 

Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.” 

Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset. 

“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.” 

Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.” 

Eli chuckled. “I will.” 

She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that. 

-------

You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you. 

“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed. 

“I know, mija, I am so sorry.” 

“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.” 

Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t. 

-------

It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life. 

Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.

“Mami, I-”

“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.” 

“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach. 

“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”

“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.” 

“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were. 

“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life. 

Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it. 

Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you. 

--------

Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch. 

Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?” 

Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba. 

It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said. 

“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister. 

“We really did.” Alba replied. 

“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared. 

“We really do.” Alba agreed. 

“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?” 

“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face. 

Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.” 

���New car?” 

“New house?”

“Can we buy her a country?”

They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior. 

-------

The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset. 

You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face. 

“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently. 

“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged. 

“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you. 

Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands. 

“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them. 

“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?” 

“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this. 

“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly. 

“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?” 

Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her. 

“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped. 

Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that. 

“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.” 

Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?” 

“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse. 

“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety. 

“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’” 

“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head. 

“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.” 

At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot. 

“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer. 

With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.” 

Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore. 

“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments. 

Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work. 

-------

Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in. 

Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself. 

“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?” 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face. 

Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Do you think that is enough?” You asked. 

Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.” 

Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway. 

“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight. 

It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you. 

“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you. 

You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting. 

You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears. 

Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters. 

Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot. 

Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed. 

Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you. 

It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special. 

You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself. 

You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught. 

“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other. 

They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction. 

“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered. 

“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”  

And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be. 

When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands. 

It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get. 

-------

Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands. 

And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted. 

“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands. 

“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.” 

Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded. 

“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly. 

“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it. 

“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.” 

“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-” 

Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit. 

“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.” 

Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed. 

Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be. 

-------

it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.

everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.

hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #alexia putellas x reader #putellas!reader #platonic reader

[hotpinkstars]

How about blind!reader with genshin men (you can choose) and she accidentally slipped and somehow managed to mess up genshin man’s important work and he ends up blowing up on her? Angst please and I don’t mind if you do comfort or no comfort!!

Have a great day🌚

-> blinded mistakes

synopsis -> you're blind, and you accidentally knock over a months worth of your husbands work, and it gets ruined.

warnings -> super angsty!!! brief mentions of ayato putting his hands on reader (no hitting or anything) might do a part 2 for comfort part cus i wanted to focus on the main argument w this one...

a/n -> ooooooomg i'm a sucker for these tropes i love angst so much. thx for ur request, this was sm fun to write! 💗💗

w/c -> 1.1k

-> ayato

ayato knew you were blind, and he was as understanding of it as he possibly could be.

but in times like these, where all of this work was to be turned in for city matters by next week, he had no patience for anyone.

he had been cooped up in his office for a while at a time over the past month. these documents were incredibly important to him and how the words written on the paper could impact how festivities were held to be a much easier way for himself and the city. 

basically, his papers were pretty damn important. and you knew that.

you walked in his office one day with thoma helping you through the hallways. you didn’t want to trip, especially with a mug of tea in your hand, and you didn’t want to bring a cane with you. 

but, thoma may have made a big mistake of leaving you in ayatos care as soon as you walked through the door. because you knew ayato was in no way shape or form able to draw himself from his work at the moment.

you were not able to use your cane to feel around the room, so without knowing where the rug was, you tripped.

and the tea you held in your hands went all over his desk, soaking his documents. the ink was splotchy and obviously ruined. you weren’t able to see what happened, but by the way ayato gasped and grabbed your wrist you knew you fucked up pretty bad.

“what the hell were you thinking???” he pulls you up forcefully and pushes you down on his couch, where you started tearing up. you weren’t necessarily used to him yelling at you, for arguments, especially over such as this, were very minimal. he always found a way to come to an understanding with you, no matter what you may have ruined. 

“i’m sorry! i didn’t think thoma was just going to leave-” you were cut off by an angry voice.

“this isn’t thomas issue, y/n. it’s yours. how clueless can you be?” he brings his hands to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose before groaning loudly. 

“i’m sorry that i can’t fucking see, ayato!” you yelled back, slamming your hands on the couch and leaning back. “is that what you wanted to hear?”

he shook his head, but you didn’t know that. he lays his hands on your thighs, squeezing them, before getting close to your face. you could smell his hair, the sakura shampoo he uses being evident. 

“i don’t want a fucking apology, y/n. if these documents are not in by friday, there is no change for inazuma. the change you’ve been awaiting, the change i’ve been awaiting, and the change everyone of the city has been awaiting. you took that away from all of them. because you decided you weren’t going to bring your cane to make sure you don’t fucking fall!” he yells to your face, making the tears spill out.

“i’m sorry! i just wanted to bring you something to drink because i was told you were overworking yourself. gosh, how bad of me for caring for my husband,” you yelled, hands shaking in both fear and rage. you knew talking back to him this way wouldn’t lead to anything good, but you tested your luck anyways.

“remove yourself from my office. i don’t care how the fuck you do it, but i demand you leave,” he said with a low, threatening tone. you knew he was enraged, and you stumbled through the door to the hallway, where ayaka was waiting to take you back to your room.

-> wriothesley

you always felt grateful for wriothesley, and the last thing you wanted to do was to upset him. he was one of the only people to look past your disability and see your heart, see your kindness and purity. 

so when you come up his office stairs very, very slowly with a cup of tea and trip on an uneven plate in the ground, ruining his documents that were incredibly important to him and the palais mermonia, especially to neuvillette, you knew you were screwed.

normally, this didn’t happen. he’d meet you down by his office door after a guard or sigewinne escorted you through the fortress, and help you walk up the stairs with the support of his arm.

he immediately slams his hands down on his table, walking over to where you were. 

you felt his presence looming over you, though unable to see it, you slowly and carefully sit up. he lifts up your chin before speaking.

“why. why would you do that,” he starts in a low tone, something similar he’d use to speaking to misbehaved criminals. “i told you not to visit me today. and what do you do? the complete fucking opposite!” 

you rub your eyes, trying to show no signs of weakness. you stand up, and he grabs your hands, making you feel the mess you made. ripped papers, bleeding ink. a month of progress is officially gone. 

“you feel what you did? that has taken me months! and it’s ruined! if i lose my job because of this-” he starts, dropping your hands as you turn around, your bottom leaning against the desk. 

“i’m sorry! i should’ve either stayed home or have a guard escort me up, i didn’t mean to ruin your progress!” you wipe more tears away, hearing him give an annoyed sigh. 

“you’re right. you shouldn’t have come at all. this would never have happened if you didn’t come. do you understand how much trouble i could be in? if you didn’t visit me at all, i wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of asking for new documents, and i wouldn’t have to do hundreds of papers in three damned days!” he says, obviously distressed.

“look, i’m sorry, okay?! you can tell neuvillette and all of fontaine that i was the one who ruined everything if you want to! i’m sorry about the hassle and i’m sorry for putting more stress on you! all i wanted to do was bring you a cup of tea because you left the house stressed this morning!” you yelled back, crying at this point. “if you don’t want the embarrassment, then you can embarrass me. it seems like i’ve done enough to deserve it, so do it! tell the whole world what i did wrong, and how horrible of a wife i was!”

you called a guard in to escort you out, and that was the last wriothesley had seen of you that day.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin x reader angst #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley angst #ayato #kamisato #kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #kamisato ayato angst #ayato x reader #kamisato x reader #ayato kamisato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader angst

[lemonlover1110]

𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃

Choso

Pairing: Bass Guitarist!Choso x f!Reader

Summary: You usually hang out with Choso after his concerts, only this time he wants to talk about your relationship. Luckily for you, you know how to distract him from important matters.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Friends with Benefits, Car Sex, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Squirting, Creampie, Angst if you squint

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

This art was sent in my server and I was forced to write about him in this AU, anyway I hope you lovelies enjoy!! likes and reblog always appreciated❤️

There’s a whole crowd that screams Choso’s name from the top of their lungs as his fingers strum against the strings of his bass. Choso, a very reserved man, someone who is not even the star of the band but the most beloved amongst fans. Is it because they barely know anything about him? Or is it because he looks too hot while he really gets into the song? For you, it’s the latter. 

Choso lets himself loose as his mind, body and soul embrace the song. It becomes an issue for him to stay close to the microphone, until he realizes his vocals come up. He’s sweaty, his eyeshadow smudged and running down his cheeks; it’s a look that drives the fangirls wild, and you can’t exactly blame them for it.

They get louder when they hear Choso’s voice, and you wonder if it drives Suguru insane that even though he’s the lead vocalist, he doesn’t get as much attention as Choso. There’s just something about Choso that has everyone in a trance. He looks so seductive even when he barely tries.

The song ends, and the crowd cheers, wanting more from the band. For a moment the only thing you hear is the crowd chanting Choso’s name. You don’t understand why they go wild over him, but then again, you guess that the lack of knowledge about him makes him intriguing. However, you know all you need to know about him. 

“I really don’t get why they go so crazy over him! I’d argue that Getou is hotter.” You yell to your friend, and she rolls her eyes. She knows you’re just talking to talk because given the option, you always choose Choso.

The noise dies as the sound of the bass begins again. All eyes are on Choso until Suguru begins to sing. Your eyes stay on Choso, and his eyes scan the crowd until they land on you. A smile comes onto his face as you maintain eye contact. His eyes finally look away, looking down at his guitar. You know you’ll be seeing each other later.

Just to tease you, he does something that he rarely does. Something that makes the crowd get louder, his tongue running up the neck of his guitar. You roll your eyes as your cheeks get hot. You fucking hate him. 

You have no issue getting backstage after the show. The security guard looks at your friend funny, but he knows you so he assumes that she’s okay to pass. He doubts that anyone will have a problem since you’re beloved among the band members.

“Hi, Lexi.” You wave at the woman who talks with her boyfriend. Suguru’s arm is thrown over her shoulders while they head to the door that you just walked through. She waves at you, blowing a kiss your way before focusing on her boyfriend again. 

“Where’s Gojo?” Your friend asks, her eyes searching for the white haired man, after all, she joined you just because she knew you could get her the opportunity to talk to Satoru. You were going to come either way since Choso sent you a message, it didn’t hurt for her to tag along. 

You’re about to help her, but your eyes land on Choso. There’s a subtle smile on his face when he notices you. He walks toward you, and you completely ignore your friend as she continues asking about Satoru. She rolls her eyes, knowing damn well that you were acting tough and annoyed as everyone chanted Choso’s name because according to you he isn’t a big deal. It’s clear jealousy.

From what she knows, you and Choso have an unusual friendship– Which is another way of saying that you’re friends with benefits. You both came to an agreement where you could use each other’s bodies with no strings attached, however, tonight it might all come to an end. Whether you like it or not. 

“I’m glad to see you here.” Choso says as you give him a side hug. You don’t like to get too touchy while others are around. He still kisses the top of your head, before he looks at your friend. “Who did you bring with you tonight?”

“Just my friend. She wants to meet Gojo.” You tell him, as his fingers intertwine with yours. Choso calls out for Satoru, hoping that the sooner your friend meets Satoru, the sooner you’ll get out of the place. Although getting out of the place so soon isn’t the best idea since there’s still an army of fans outside that will do just about anything to get a picture with Choso. 

The band’s popularity has increased over the past couple of months, and suddenly Choso always has someone throwing themselves at him. It ticks you off more than you’d like to admit. 

“What?” Satoru asks, clear annoyance in his voice. He notices you and he begins to approach you to give you a hug, but it earns a glare from Choso. All the members know you well and they consider you a good friend, which means they all know your situation with Choso. When Satoru notices the look, he sticks with a simple greeting. “Hey.”

“Hi, Gojo.” You smile at him. You then point to your friend, informing him, “She’s here to meet you.”

“Are you her ride home?” Choso questions, and you shake your head in response. She brought you here knowing that you would go your separate ways after the concert. She saw the message that Choso had left on your phone, and she urged you to come. “Does that mean we can leave?”

“I think so.” You answer. You still check to see if she’s okay being left alone with Satoru before leaving. When she says yes, you lead Choso out of the building. Your eyes stare at the case of his guitar and you ask, “Do you need help? I’m really strong, just so you know.”

He laughs, “No doubt about it, but I can handle it.”

“You’re in a hurry.” Choso comments when you step outside. He takes the lead, dragging you to his car. 

“Weren’t you the one that was asking if we could leave?” You chuckle, and he laughs as well. He opens the trunk to put the case in before walking to the passenger door and opening it for you. He watches you get inside before he shuts the door for you. He nearly runs to the driver’s side, embarrassingly impatient.

“Do you want to join Lexi and Suguru tonight? Or what do you want to do?” Choso isn’t exactly the person to go hang out with his friends after a concert, especially at a bar. But he knows that you like that sort of stuff, so he sticks with you until you’re ready to go back home– Or back to his apartment, whichever place is closest to the place you’re hanging out in.

“Can we just go back to your place?” You respond, your eyes focused on his side profile. You were too jealous earlier to admire just how good he looks tonight.

“Can we talk about–” He begins, but you grab the collar of his shirt and put your lips on his before he can finish his sentence. You know he wants to talk about the message that he sent, something that made you want to stay home tonight. Can we talk about us? Or something along those lines, you just know that you don’t want to change this perfect arrangement.

Your tongue enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hands go to his belt. He doesn’t know why you’re so eager tonight, it doesn’t click in his head. Maybe the little trick from earlier worked to rile you up, and he’s certain that it was that when you unbutton his pants and begin to pull them down. 

“Here? Aren’t you scared–” He begins when you pull away from the kiss but you begin to kiss his neck. Your lips go to that one sweet spot that makes him weak, sucking on it. You aren’t scared that you’ll get caught, that’s good to know. He’s the one that should be worried about getting caught since he’s the one that has to hold a public image. 

The parking lot is private, and it’s pretty much empty. He isn’t too worried about that. 

“Don’t you want to go somewhere more private?” He still asks but he doesn’t bother to stop you as you spit on his cock, your hand wrapping around the base and slowly stroking it. 

“We can talk later. Right now, I need your cock in my mouth.” You kiss his shaft before your tongue drags on his length and begins to circle on his tip. You begin to kiss the tip, causing Choso to bite down his lip. He’s certainly not going to stop now.

Your mouth wraps around his cock, hearing the moan whimper just at the feeling of your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick. Everything you do drives him wild. It’s why he can’t stop you when he wants to talk about more serious issues– Issues that concern your relationship and what you’re doing. 

He doesn’t like it like this though. He loves the sight of your pretty face as your mouth is wrapped around his cock. He still loves the feeling though. He praises you, “You’re doing so good, baby.” 

You take all of him in your mouth, gagging on his length which causes the tears to build up in your eyes. It’s a sight that usually drives the man wild, although he doesn’t like to admit it; unluckily for him, he only sees the back of your head. 

His head is thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head. You have complete control over him, and he hates it. But he certainly loves the way he feels at the moment. When the tears fall from your eyes, you lift up your head, detaching yourself from his cock. Your hand takes over, stroking his cock.

“Can we do it here?” You ask him as your thighs rub against one another, the heat between your legs getting too unbearable. Your libido is too high, you can’t wait to go back to his place. You need him now.

Choso’s cheeks are flushed, and the man’s brain goes a thousand miles per minute. What you’re thinking of is riskier, and if anyone walks by, you’ll get caught. But he doesn’t care. He needs you too. 

“Yeah, let’s do it here.” He agrees, and you crawl over to his side. You lift up your skirt, moving your panties to the side. Two of his fingers run through your folds, noting just how wet you are when he’s done nothing to you. The mere thought of him drives you insane.

You align his cock with your entrance before slowly sitting on it. His lips land on yours, feeling your moans vibrate through your tongue as you move on his cock. 

You move back and forth on his cock. You feel euphoric as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot. 

Choso pulls away, grabbing the back of your neck to pull your face away. He needs to admire your beautiful face, taking in every single detail about it. You look so alluring with your messed up makeup. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, and he gets a sense of satisfaction knowing that he caused it. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, his nose burying in the crook of your neck. He takes in your scent, getting more intoxicated by you. You’re controlling all of his thoughts lately, even though you’re not even trying.

“You’re so big.” You say, your back arching as Choso begins to thrust his hips instead of leaving it to you to handle it all. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, giving you more stimulation so your high approaches sooner. The faster you finish, the faster you can go again. “Oh– Choso!”

“Fuck–” He can’t help but curse. He’s getting so lost inside of you. In more ways than one. 

His hand pulls down your tank top, and the man gets upset at the bra that gets in the way of what he wants. He pulls down the cups of your bra so his tongue circles around your nipples. He greedily kisses and licks before his mouth finally wraps around one of your tits. 

His other hand begins to toy with the nipple that isn’t in his mouth, teasing it and pinching it. All the stimulation makes your brain foggy as your climax begins to get the best of you. You continue to chant his name, getting louder and louder. 

“Oh, fuck!” You yell as you come around his cock. You make a mess all over him, squirting on him. You’d be embarrassed with someone else, but Choso has seen you do so much worse– It helps that you know he absolutely loves it. Choso bites down on your nipple before unlatching.

“You’re such a good girl. Making a mess all over me.” His hands move to your hips, his nails digging into your flesh. 

“You always take me so well.” He’s kissing your neck, his thrusts getting sloppy. His warm cum fills you up not too long after, and you bite down your bottom lip to not moan. You fucking love it when he fills you up, but he rarely does it. He got too caught up in the moment. 

He stays buried inside of you, continuing kissing your neck, going up to your face. He almost whispers, “Can we talk?”

“Your dick is buried inside of me, might as well.” You chuckle, and he awkwardly returns the gesture. His soft eyes look into yours, and the look tells you all you need to know. You were suspecting it since lately Choso has been more… Romantic than what you had agreed upon. Getting flowers weekly isn’t what your friend is supposed to do.

“I want you.” He can’t put it any other way. Choso’s written what feels like hundreds of songs but he can’t find the right words to express himself. You don’t want to have this conversation now, or any time soon for that matter.

You take advantage of his indistinct way of expressing himself. It's not that you don't want him the same way, it's just easier to keep what you have going on. Choso is getting too big so fast, you don't want to start something that'll end up badly. Which is simply ironic.

You reach to the side of the seat, reclining the seat, pushing his back down. Your lips go to his ear, whispering, “You have me.”

It’s not the way he means it, not one bit. But he’ll take it until he can express himself properly.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu choso #choso #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso jjk #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso smut #kamo choso #choso x you #kamo choso smut #choso x y/n #choso x reader smut

[melzula]

I JUMPED WHEN I SAW REQUESTS OPEN

zuko unintentionally saying something he doesn’t mean to reader (ex. ur clingy/annoying) and makes the reader like kinda distant cus they don’t wanna be annoying or clingy yk? then he comforts them and says sorry and it’s very much a angst to fluff moment!

a/n: i love this trope

summary: your sudden disappearance makes zuko reevaluate his behavior

The apartment is empty when Zuko returns from the tea shop. His bones ache from standing all day and his mood is sour from having to serve customers, but it doesn’t distract him from the fact that something is missing. The place feels dull and lacks its normal warmth, and the change unnerves him.

“It seems y/n has not yet returned home,” Iroh observes as he flicks on the lamps to rid the room of darkness.

“Where did she go?” Zuko murmurs, doing his best to mask his anxiety over your absence. It’s not like you to stay out late, especially considering your apartment isn’t exactly in one of the safer rings of Ba Sing Se, and it worries him.

“I’m not sure. She seemed to be in a hurry when she left this morning,” the older man recounts as he scans the room to look for any trace of her left behind. “She didn’t even have her morning tea!”

“She could be in danger. I’m going to search for her.”

“Would you like me to come with you?”

“No, one of us should stay here in case she comes back,” Zuko states before making his way out the door. “I don’t want her to come home to any empty apartment.”

“Be sure to watch your temper if you do find her, nephew. Y/n is struggling to adjust to this new life just as you are, and it is important you are patient with her.”

The Prince says nothing in response to his Uncle’s words, but he immediately feels the guilt and shame that they bring him. His warning serves as a reminder for his recent behavior, and Zuko is then able to figure out why you were nowhere to be found.

You’d been eating breakfast together that morning before he had to leave for work, and despite his irritable mood you seemed to be eager to start the day.

“I was thinking of visiting the market place to buy fresh groceries for dinner tonight. Maybe I could stop by the tea shop and bring lunch for you and your Uncle,” you suggested with a pleasant smile.

“Sure,” Zuko had grumbled in response before forcing another spoonful of bland porridge down his throat.

“And after dinner we can visit the fountain,” you had said with an excited smile. “I’d love to take a walk through the city and get some fresh air. We hardly ever leave the apartment.”

“This city is nothing but dirt. There’s nothing to see out there.”

“Oh,” you had murmured, your features deflating slightly at his negative comments. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe we can just stay in and play a game of pai sho instead. I’m not exactly sure how to play, but I bet you could teach me! It could be fun!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing yourself speak?!” Zuko had finally snapped harshly, his patience finally having been worn thin by your ceaseless suggestions. He didn’t want to take a stroll or play pai sho or have any sort of fun, and he didn’t understand why you couldn’t get that. “This isn’t some little vacation. I failed to capture the Avatar and now we’re stuck here, do you understand? Go play pai sho with someone else.”

The room had grown deathly silent after Zuko’s outburst, and he was too annoyed to notice the way you kept your gaze glued firmly to the table to avoid him see the welling tears in your eyes. Without another word, you quietly excused yourself from the table and made your way out the door without an explanation or a goodbye. Zuko hadn’t seen you since.

“I’m such a jerk,” he curses himself as he roams the streets in search of you. You’re not in the market place and you’re not by the fountain, so where could you be? He’s beginning to worry, his mind conjuring up multiple scenarios where you’re in trouble and he can’t help you. It’s pure torture.

A familiar laugh floats through the air, and Zuko feels the hairs on his neck stand up at the soothing melody. He’s quick to follow the sound, and as he shoves his way through the crowded streets he finds himself coming to a stop at a small noodle shop. The shop is practically tucked into a corner and isn’t much to look at, but the inside is full of life as patrons eat and converse and enjoy the camaraderie. At the heart of the restaurant sits a table full of people focused on the game of pai sho before them, and at the center of the table you sit with a large grin and a white lotus tile in your hand.

“I can’t believe I won!” You exclaim with an excited clap of your hands before looking to the older woman sitting next to you. “Thank you so much for teaching me how to play. This is the most fun I’ve had in months!”

“Y/n?” Zuko calls, garnering the attention of you and your new friends at the table. The airy laughter and pleasantries die down at the sight of him and the room is suddenly filled with tension.

“Oh, hello, Lee,” you greet dully, your cheerful demeanor immediately disappearing when you make eye contact with the boy.

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home?”

“You said to go play pai sho with someone else, so that’s what I’m doing,” you state bluntly, and Zuko looks away guiltily after hearing his own words repeated back to him.

“Can you please just come home? You shouldn’t be out on the streets this late, it’s dangerous.”

“Why do you care?” You retort harshly. “I’m having fun here. These people actually want my company.”

“Y/n,” Zuko says with an irritated sigh, doing his best to remain patient. “Please. If not for me then for Uncle. He’s just as worried for your safety as I am.”

You hesitate at his words, but after a moment of contemplating you finally excuse yourself from the table. You bid your new friends goodbye and promise to return for another game sometime before following Zuko out of the restaurant and beginning your walk back home.

“The moon is out tonight,” he notes quietly in an attempt to make small talk, but you don’t reply. You keep your gaze forward and maintain a respectable distance from him as you walk. “Maybe I was wrong about this place.”

“Congratulations for figuring that out,” you retort sarcastically with a roll of your eyes. Having finally had enough, Zuko grabs your wrist to stop you in your tracks and force you to look at him.

“Y/n, please talk to me,” he begs earnestly. “I feel horrible for what I’ve done.”

“Good, you should feel bad!” You exclaim angrily, harshly yanking your hand away from him. “You’ve been nothing but a jerk since we got to Ba Sing Se, and now that I’m finally giving you the space that you wanted you come and ruin my fun!”

“I don’t want space from you,” he insists desperately. “I was being an idiot! Y/n, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I was just feeling irritable and I took it out on you, but that isn’t fair of me.”

“I’m not going to be your punching bag for the rest of my life, Zuko,” you relent quietly, blinking back the tears that begin to form. “All I want is to start over, but you’re making it so difficult. Why did we even come here?”

“We came here because I realized you deserved better than to constantly live your life on the run,” he admits softly, carefully taking your hands in his own. “I know I’ve failed to make you happy or treat you the way you deserve, but you have to know that I care for you. The best part of my day is coming home to you after work, and I never want you to feel like a burden because you aren’t.”

“Thank you for saying that,” you sniffle with a meek smile, and when he pulls you into his arms for a hug you don’t protest. “I know this has been hard for you, but you have to understand that all I want is to support you and make the change as easy as possible for you.”

“I know, and I’ll forever be grateful for everything you do,” Zuko says before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Now let’s get home before Uncle begins to worry.”

You say nothing more as he puts a protective arm around you and guides you through the streets of Ba Sing Se. The move has been tough, but he swears then that he’s going to do his best to improve his attitude and give you the support you need.

He has a lot of making up to do.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @lora21 @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303

#melzula writes #request #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender

[versadies]

in a world of boys, he's a gentleman! (various x gn!reader)

SALUTATIONS. in a world of boys, he's a gentleman!

ADDRESSED. alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, and neuvillette (x gn!reader)

STAMPS. the little things they do around you that remind you that chivalry is not dead <3

CONTENT. ooc!neuvi (?), ooc!wriothesley (?), fluff/no-angst, established relationships, possibly cheesy (i like cheese), and possible grammar errors. some of the things mentioned can be applicable to others!

POST-SCRIPT. can you already tell that these four own my heart? i love them sm ( >-< )!!! also made new banners for a change hehe

LINKS. masterlist \ taglist

Although ALHAITHAM is someone who prefers to focus greatly on himself and prioritizes his own well-being over others', that does not mean he is selfish nor inconsiderate. Which is why it is not far-fetched for someone like him to do the little things that proves the fact that chivalry is not dead.

Though of course, he does it in his very own way. You just have to be very observant to notice it. 

For instance, whenever you two are sitting in front of the table, he’d cover the edge whenever you lean down to get something that fell from the table, ensuring that you don’t bump your head from the furniture and get hurt. 

Another instance is when you’d rant on and on in his presence, thinking he’s not listening to you due to his earpieces that’s used to cancel out meaningless noises. When in reality, he’s actually listening to you —  because to him, your words are always something of importance to him whether he’d admit that or not. 

It doesn’t even matter if you’re talking about your day, complaining about prices, or even expressing your concerns over things you shouldn’t even be concerned about; he’d listen without a word if not necessary, because if it’s important to you, then it’s important to listen about it. Though of course, the only exceptions are when you’d actually talk about something he doesn’t care about, such as gossip.

Meanwhile, in the bustling marketplaces of Sumeru, there’s bound to be scammers preying on oblivious consumers, and Alhaitham sees to it that you won’t fall for such things. It’s partially one of the reasons why he always tags along with you whenever you shop for groceries or for other things.

If a scammer tries their shot, they’ll only be greeted by a stern warning glare from the scribe as you look through the displayed products, only for your lover to drag you to a more appropriate stall that’s much better than the suspicious one. 

During the later stage of your relationship when you moved into his humble home, he made sure to have enough space for your things, and even sacrificed some of his own possessions for the sake of yours. 

Speaking of sacrifices, there are also times when he’d sacrifice his leisure time that he values in order to hang out with you. Despite your assurances that he doesn’t have to spend time with you if he wants to be alone, he doesn’t care and still hangs out with you anyway. 

In his perspective, it’s not a sacrifice, because spending his spare time with you is much better than spending it alone. 

It’s the little things that remind you that he does care. Though, you couldn’t help but try and confront him about his actions since you want to hear it from his mouth. 

When you do though, you’ll only get a deadpan look from him and a few words:

“Isn’t that the bare minimum of what boyfriends should do anyway?”

ZHONGLI is no doubt a traditional gentleman when it comes to not just you, but also towards anyone around him. Of course, you’re still special in his eyes. After all, you’re his darling gem who is above any other treasures that he’s come across in this lifetime.

He always checks up on your well-being with care and tenderness that often causes your legs to become jelly-like. He never fails to bring heat to your face from how sweet he is!

Like your average traditional gentleman, Zhongli gives you his coat as soon as he sees even a slight sign of you feeling cold from Liyue’s breeze, caressing your arms with his glove-covered hands while he’s at it. Not that you’re complaining, especially from how good his cologne smells from his coat that just made you a little in a daze.

He’s willing to open doors for you to enter first, no matter your gender. He doesn’t want your hands to get dirty from door knobs that have been through things that only Celestia knows what, so he insists that he shall open them for you. In a way, it sounded a bit over the top, but how can you say no to such a kind man like your lover?

He sees to it that you’re the first one to be seated before him, pulling out a chair for you before sitting next to you. It’s almost essential for him to sit next to you, as if you’re a light that he finds himself drawn to. 

When it comes to eating together, he offers you a bite of his meal that he either made or ordered, wanting you to try the delicious meal that’s made with precision and passion and appreciate it with him (though it usually ends up with him giving you more bites of it like a grandma would to her grandchild). Whenever he does this, he makes sure to blow the food first before giving it to you, not wanting your tongue to get burnt by accident. He even goes as far as putting his hand beneath the spoon to ensure nothing will spill on you and your clothes. 

Traveling is also to be expected when you’re with Zhongli, with you two visiting different areas of Liyue for a variety of reasons such as work, vacation, leisure time, etc. Whenever you two travel, he’s always there to give you a hand, especially when climbing up and going down. 

He’ll even go as far as putting his coat down on the ground for you to sit on to avoid your clothes becoming dirty should you two ever need a break, not wanting you to get too exhausted from your trip. 

Of course, we cannot forget how Zhongli has a sharp memory, so he knows the exact day for your relationship milestones and would never forget it. Expect him to celebrate things such as your first date-sary, monthsary, first kiss-sary, and the list goes on until you eventually tell him that most people (if not all) wouldn’t celebrate most of these things. 

That doesn’t stop him from greeting you with such occasions though ^^

It’s clear to see that the consultant loves you dearly and wants the best for you. The same goes to his dear friends and peers around him, and you couldn’t be all the more grateful to have such a man like him as your lover. In fact, his amber-hue eyes that you always seem to lose yourself to shines much brighter when he’s kind. 

“Why are you smiling? Is there something on my face?” He’d ask you when he catches you admiring him from your place. 

“Nothing. I just want to admire how perfect my boyfriend is.” You sigh dreamily, looking at him happily. “How are you such a perfect spouse?” 

He chuckles in response, now putting down his tea. “I beg to differ. Especially since the most breathtaking person in front of me is more worthy of such title.”  

It’s no lie to everyone in the Fortress – both inmates and guards alike – that WRIOTHESLEY adores you, even if he wouldn’t outright admit it. Though his words are nothing but silent, his actions speak louder. Out of the very few people that the duke trusts, you’re the one that comes to mind, and the same goes for you towards him. He’s quite honored that you trust him enough to let him become your spouse, and what better way to express that than actions? 

You’re rest assured that he always has tea saved for you whenever you come and visit his office. When you do, he always makes sure to pull out a chair for you to sit on, pour your cup with your drink of choice before pouring his tea on his own cup. 

For a man such as him, he’s observant and is quick to notice when someone is uncomfortable – in this case, you. As soon as he takes note of your discomfort or uneasiness, he is quick to comfort you and assure you that all’s well as he either swiftly takes you away from the scene or finds a way to help you go through it. 

With that in mind, Wriothesley understands if you find yourself preferring the world outside over the Fortress of Meropide. He gets it! He’s content with you just visiting whenever you can. He knows not everyone would be keen on staying in the stronghold prison for a long time, especially when they have no reason to besides visiting their spouse. 

Unless you’re an actual criminal, then that’s when you entirely have no choice but be stuck in the fortress and with him until you’re free to go. 

Speaking of criminals, danger lurks everywhere in Fontaine. You certainly can’t blame your lover for being quite protective with you, often telling you through his letters to be careful with going out at night and to not fall for any scammers or tricks by possible criminals that are still out there. He’s aware that you’re more than capable of protecting yourself from danger, but it doesn’t stop his worries even for one bit.

It’s not common for the Duke to come out from the Fortress and visit the city. When he does, there’s a huge chance that he’s seen with you, holding your hand as you two go on with your day as a couple. He does not show affection in public much, but that doesn’t mean holding hands would hurt! 

To others, he always seems so calm and collected on his own, but in comparison to how he acts with you, he’s much more content and relaxed, as if he’s in a utopian paradise that he feels at peace in as your laughter and voice soothes his unfaltering spirit. 

Should you ever ask for a mora of his thoughts from how distracted he was during your time spent together, you’ll only gain this response:

“Hm? Oh, forgive me for being distracted. You don’t have to worry about it.” He’d say casually, hiding the fact that he’s simply distracted from thinking about how much he wants this kind of experience to last forever.

Given that NEUVILLETTE is unfamiliar with human customs and feelings, the same goes for his unfamiliarity in the romance department. He didn’t think he’d end up courting someone, let alone form a personal relationship – especially since he avoids such things. However, you’re somehow an exception.

His experience in the court is unfortunately not enough to help him with his goal in winning your heart, yet somehow, he finds himself in a relationship with you. Though inexperienced and busy, he still has his perks that makes it up – such as his mannerisms.

Just like Zhongli, he’s quite a traditional gentleman. Not only will he help you sit down by pulling out a chair and remove your coat, he’d even make sure that none of your clothes, accessories, and even your hair would get caught in the furniture’s ornamentation to avoid the same inconveniences that he goes through in his daily life. 

He tends to hold your hand when the two of you go through the seats of the Opera Epiclese to watch a performance, dragging you to the best seat in the middle of the front row as he helps you become comfortable. After watching your first performance together, he never thought that watching a performance could be so enjoyable when you have companions to share the joy with. Where were you in his entire life?

On another note, Neuvillette is the type to carry your bags whenever the two of you go shopping or when he sees you holding something heavy, wanting to ease your burdens and struggles swiftly as he insists that he should help you. You should be able to have your hands free like a dove in his perspective. 

It shows that he’s willing to help you with anything you need, whether it’d be giving wise advice, getting something, lending a shoulder for you to cry on, and anything else so long as it eases your struggles. 

Given that he’s still exploring human customs and feelings, he entrusts you to guide him through it, and this means that he’s open with new things that he hasn’t tried before so long as it doesn’t clash with his busy schedule. 

He doesn’t mind doing particular activities with you, be it pot-making, watching documentaries, playing classic games, and the list goes on! If he has you by his side to try everything, then he’s okay with it all. 

Speaking of activities, Neuvillette has taken a liking for walking in the rain. He even fantasizes about going out into the rain, wanting to feel the raindrops pouring on him as he walks down the streets of Fontaine. 

Despite enjoying such joys, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t consider your comfort with the weather. Knowing how humans are with not wanting to become wet from the weather, your lover is there to help you in holding an umbrella that he’d bring should he hear any forecasts of rain beforehand. 

He makes sure that the entire umbrella is on you and stays that way, and he simply wouldn’t forgive himself if he sees even a few drops on your clothing that he could’ve prevented despite your assurances. 

If you ever expressed your concern of him getting drenched and possibly sick from the rain, he’d simply reassure you that it’s nothing to worry about, telling you that he does this very often whenever it rains. 

“Don’t worry about me, ma moitié.” He says with a tender gaze as he continues to walk side by side with you, holding the umbrella above you. “I will not get sick easily from the weather, nor do I mind having my clothes drenched. I want you to worry about yourself more.” 

PENPALS. @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @ragnvdnr @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @mrkamisato @shenhesl0ver @serami00 @serenareiss @hiqhkey @emperatris-rinaka @bystander36 @irisxiel @ladycoleigh @034ven @dear-dairiess @owozi8 @hadesaedes @chiro-chiro-kun @hersscherofyatta @mariusvonhangme @yuzuricebun @nejibot @hoshikistarlette @solaaresque @crowbird @lordbugs @flowersforayato @headintheclouddd @estelwrld @giyusimpsassemble @irethepotatosblog @moonlightaangel @alice0blog @shotosbrainrot @sniffoat @chihawari @mxsomn @kuni-kuzushii @jiminscarmex @mitsukii14 @ylimeprive @sachispet @loreleis-world @sn-owo @starforecasts @someonetookmynamelmao @ceylestia @astrequa @ymikkos @reallysporadicarcade @melodyyamino @dudufodd @somberrock @yevenly @lemontum @nghing @shaiah @miss-lady-witch @yashe @imkaaayy @badlywrittens @0rah-s @totallynotaraidensimp @garlicforthewin

#genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #genshin fluff #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x gn reader #al haitham x reader #al haitham fluff #alhaitham fluff #genshin impact fluff #neuvillette fluff #genshin x reader fluff #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x gn reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x gn!reader #zhongli fluff #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x gn reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #neuvillette x you

[scoonsalicious]

Like A Fairy Tale

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true.

Warnings: Language to make Steve blush, mentions of alcohol use, implied sex, angst with a happy ending.

Word Count: 3.4k This is my very first posted fic, and I am very nervous but I hope you like it! If I've missed any warnings, please tell me so I can add them. Much love and thanks to my bestie @jmeelee for indulging my obsession and dropping everything to read this when I sent it to her <3 Please pardon any spelling/grammar errors.

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3 I write for 18+, so minors DNI. _____________________________________________________________

Once upon a time, being Bucky Barnes’ girl had felt like living in a fairy tale. He was everything your younger self had ever dared to dream of in a Prince Charming– attentive, affectionate, kind, and oh, how he made you laugh! You were the envy of all of your friends, the very definition of #couplegoals, and you thanked your lucky stars every night that the two of you had found one another, despite all the odds.

But fairy tales aren’t real. 

You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but somewhere in the third year of your relationship, after you’d moved into a handsome brownstone in Brooklyn together, after you’d adopted a fluffy white kitten, Bucky started pulling away from you. The steps that took him from you were small at first– he was taking on more and more missions, opting to stay gone for longer periods of time. Days would go by, and they’d turn into weeks, then a month or two at a time would go by where you wouldn’t see him. 

At first, it hadn’t been terrible– Bucky had always made sure to contact you each and every day. A video call whenever he could, a phone call or text when he couldn’t, but slowly, so slowly you barely noticed, the calls stopped coming all together. Sure, he’d answer when you called him… when he could, which wasn’t always possible on a mission, and you hated acting needy and taking him away from his work, so eventually, you stopped reaching out, too. 

When he was home, you were like ships passing in the night. You always offered to take time off of work so you could spend some time with him before he was set to head out again, but he never wanted you to jeopardize your career on his account. Your reunions would always be passionate, but short-lived, a few hot and heavy nights before he took off once more to save the world. 

You tried not to let it bother you. You really, really did. His job was so important. People’s lives relied on him. Where did you get off getting upset over that? So, you kept it to yourself. Until you couldn’t. Not any more.

“Y/N,” your best friend, Lainy, cornered you at her annual New Year’s Eve party, “where’s Barnes? He’s been leaving you to go solo for months now. I don’t think I’ve seen you with him since Mark’s St. Patrick’s Day Party.”

Ouch. “He’s working, Lainy,” you told her, not wanting to admit that March had been the last time the two of you had gone out together, let alone spent more than three days in a row in each other’s company. 

“Yeah, he was ‘working’ over the Memorial Day trip, and the 4th of July BBQ, and Jack and Alice’s wedding, and your aunt’s funeral.” You cringed internally as she applied air quotes to ‘working.’ “And he was ‘working’ on your birthday, and Christmas. Babe, he’s been leaving you alone for almost an entire year. What’s going on? Are you sure there isn’t someone else?”

The worst part was, you knew there wasn’t, or at least, no one individual. When he’d first started distancing himself, of course another woman was the first thing that came to your mind, and you weren’t proud of yourself, but you’d gone through his phone to search for evidence of an affair… multiple times, and repeatedly came up with nothing. And bless Bucky’s heart, but he didn’t have the technological know-how to hide an infidelity from you. Granted, that didn’t negate the possibility that he was randomly hooking up with people while he was away. You’d have to be stupid to not consider the possibility.

You could have asked Steve. You didn’t think Captain America had it in him to lie to you about something like that, but you didn’t want him reporting on your suspicions back to Bucky, nor did you think you could stand to see the look of pity in his eye if he had to tell you that yes, Bucky was cheating on you while you anxiously awaited his return every night. So, you kept the suspicions to yourself. 

Your conversation with Lainy had left you deflated. Here it was New Year’s Eve, and you were alone, the man you loved god knew where– just not with you. How many more holidays and milestones and everyday nights were you going to spend by yourself, waiting for a man who never seemed to want to be home with you anymore? This wasn’t the kind of life you wanted, the kind of life you deserved. 

You made your way to the kitchen to refill your glass of wine. You’d probably already had too many, but you needed to drown the despair that was slowly filling you up. As you poured an exceptionally generous glass, a man entered the kitchen. You recognized him– Harris, a cousin of Lainy’s who had flirted with you relentlessly for years before you had started seeing Bucky. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up upon seeing you, “it’s been awhile.” He enveloped you in a friendly hug. “How’ve you been?”

You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, catching up on the overall brushstrokes of your life. 

“I’m sorry about your breakup,” he offered gently, after you’d exhausted the usual small talk.

“My breakup?” you asked, brow piqued.

“Last few events I’ve seen you at, you’ve been alone. I assumed you and Barnes…” he left the thought floating, the implication hanging in the air: Barnes has left you alone, I assumed you broke up.

You huffed out a laugh. God. Was your relationship actually over and you were the only one dumb enough to not see it? 

“If you aren’t seeing anyone,” Harris continued, “I would really love to take you out. You’ve gotta know I’ve been into you for ages, and I figure if I don’t shoot my shot now, who knows when I’ll have another chance.”

You cocked your head and looked at him, taking in his earnest demeanor. Here was a man who genuinely wanted to spend time with you. Why were you waiting on someone who no longer wanted to be around?

“Um, I might have to get back to you on that, Harris,” you told him before excusing yourself. You needed air. 

You found yourself on Lainy’s balcony, the air deceptively mild for the end of December in Manhattan. Alone with your thoughts, you pulled out your phone and dialed Bucky’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

“Someone asked me out on a date tonight,” you said into the recording, your voice choked with tears you didn’t want to shed. “And I think I might say yes, because, honestly Buck, what are we even doing anymore? You’re never here, and I’m always alone. I tried. I tried so fucking hard to not let it get to me, because your work’s important. I know that. I do, and I’m not begrudging you for your job. But… but I can’t keep on like this. I can’t even remember the last time we spent more than three days together. Isn’t that crazy? Three days. Everyone thinks you’re cheating on me. Did you know that? You’re away so much that everyone I know is convinced you’re fucking someone else. Maybe you are, or maybe you already left me, but I’ve been too stupid to notice; if that’s the case, you could have just told me.” 

You kept your composure as you left the message. You weren’t angry at him; you never could be. You were just tired. So tired, and so lonely. 

“All I know is that it’s another night where I’m all by myself, wishing you were here, wanting to talk to you, to feel you, and you’re just… not. You’re off doing something, or someone, more important than me, and I used to be okay with that, but I can’t be anymore. I deserve more than waiting on you, Buck. I deserve to be someone’s priority. I really wish I could have been yours, the way you were mine. 

“So, let’s just call it, okay? Your heart’s obviously not in it anymore, and mine is too tired of being hurt and alone. We’ll have to figure out what to do about the house. I’m keeping Alpine, though. You haven’t been here for her, either, and it wouldn’t be fair of you to take her if you’re never going to be around.”

Inside, you could hear the rest of the party as they counted down to midnight. When they reached zero, the night erupted in fireworks, and you could hear cheers and cars honking their horns throughout the city below you.

“Huh,” you said into your phone, “it’s midnight. Happy New Year, Buck. I hope it ends up being a good one for you, and I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you decide you didn’t want to spend this last one with me.”

You hung up the phone and the tears finally fell as you slid down the balcony railing until you were crouched on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you sat there crying, but eventually Lainy found you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and ushering you into her spare room. She helped you change out of your cocktail dress and into a spare pair of pajamas, and helped you wash your face before tucking you into bed. She left you with a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead, promising that tomorrow would be better, that the next best chapter of your life was about to begin, but as you drifted into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t find the will to believe her.

You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache, the alcohol and the tears doing nothing but dehydrating you into agony. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but the battery had died in the night. From the slant of the sun coming in from the guest room window, it looked to be late morning or early afternoon. 

You changed back into your dress, thanking Lainy for her help and making a small joke about doing the walk of shame in your clothes from the night before. You avoided her questions about what had happened, promising to go over it at length at the weekend after you’d had some time to process. You weren’t in the best headspace to get into at the moment.

Fortunately, your best friend knew you well enough not to pry, and you said your goodbyes, plans for brunch on Sunday having been made. You weren’t eager to get back home, to be surrounded by reminders of Bucky, when all you wanted was the man, himself. But he was your ex-boyfriend now, you supposed. You were going to have to come to terms with that sooner than later. Besides, Alpine needed to be fed, and you weren’t going to abandon her.

Your keys clicked in the lock as you opened your front door. “Al, baby,” you called, kicking off your heels and closing the door behind you, “Mommy’s home. You hungry, sweetie?”

You began making your way back toward the kitchen when a loud crash from upstairs got your attention. You rolled your eyes; what had the cat knocked over now? 

But then there was the roar of a body barreling down the upstairs hall and toward the stairs, leaving you frozen where you stood. You cast a glance to where you’d left your phone in your purse by the door. Too far away to reach in time to call for help as the intruder came pounding down the stairs. 

A massive figure rounded the corner, nearly knocking you over.

“Bucky?” You blinked, sure your eyes were playing tricks on you, but no– there he stood, and he looked like shit. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and his eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. He’d obviously been wearing the same clothing for at least a day, if not more.

“Y/N,” he breathed, throwing his arms around you and wrapping you in an almost bone-crushing embrace. “Sweetheart, I was so worried.”

“What are you doing here, Buck?” you asked him, pulling away from him. God, you wanted to let him hold you, but you just couldn’t. Not anymore.

Bucky cupped your face in his hands, blue eyes desperately searching yours. “I got your message. Doll, it fucking broke my heart. I came straight home, but you weren’t here, and I was terrified that you were gone; that you’d left me for good.”

You scoffed. “I’m not the one who leaves, Bucky.”

He flinched at your words. “I know, Baby. I know, and ’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shoulda known what leavin’ you so much was doin’ to you, ‘cause it was doin’ it to me, too. When I heard you say that people– that you– thought I was cheating on you, that I had neglected you so much you thought I found someone else, that I could ever love anyone else, ever want anyone else– I’ve never hated myself more, doll. I can’t stand that you even had those thoughts in your head for one second, because it’s always been you. There’s never been anyone else. You’re it.”

“Then why have you been gone?” you asked him in a whisper. “If there’s no one else, and I’m it, why don’t you ever want to be with me? Why do you keep leaving?” 

Bucky ran both his hands along his face. “God, it feels so stupid now,” he said with a sigh. “But I was trying to save–”

“Trying to save the world, yeah, I know,” you interrupted him, annoyed. “Trust me, I’m well aware that I can’t compete with that. But I needed to know you thought we were worth saving, too, and you never did.”

Bucky started laughing then, and you scoffed. “Wow, you don’t have to rub it in, Bucky.”

“No, no– Sweetheart, no!” he shook his head. “That’s not it, at all. Hold on.” He went to the foyer and grabbed his go-bag; you had missed it when you walked in. Coming back to the kitchen, he put it on the table, opening it up and extracting a folded piece of paper and handing it to you.

It was a real estate listing for a farmhouse Upstate, with acreage on the Hudson. You and Bucky had talked about what kind of house you would buy if the situation had ever presented itself, and it was almost as if you’d dreamed it up.

You looked from the paper back to Bucky. “I don’t understand,” you told him.

“It needs pretty extensive renovations,” he told you. “I wanted to take on enough overtime to have the money for them and make a good dent on the mortgage, but it needed more work than I originally thought. And, I have to come clean– I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you about where I’ve been spending all my time.” He looked up at you through his lashes, head bent down in shame.

“But… but, you said there wasn’t anyone else,” you stammered, heart ready to beat out of your chest. 

“Oh god! No, and I mean that! There isn’t, I swear! God, I’ve fucked this up so bad!” Bucky tugged at his hair in frustration. “I’ve been going on extra missions, but sometimes, Sam, Steve, and I go Upstate to do some work on the house, to cut down the costs so I could still make my timeline.”

“You already bought it?” you asked, your voice flat. You were in shock. “You want to move out? Away from me?”

Bucky moaned in distress and drew you to him again. “No! God, I’m doing this all wrong. I want us to move there, together. To make it the perfect house. The perfect home for me, my wife and our stupid fur baby.”

You stilled at his words. “I’m sorry, your what?”

Bucky smiled at you sheepishly as he reached back into his go-bag. “I’ll have you know that I had an entire plan. Was gonna have the house ready by Valentine’s Day. Take you up there as a surprise, ask you properly, but I fucked that up, so…” He brought his hand back out, holding a small burgundy velvet box. He opened it to reveal a vintage engagement ring, a sapphire instead of a diamond. Your favorite stone.

Bucky got down on one knee. “Y/N,” he began as his voice choked up a bit with emotion, “I know I fucked up for the last eight months. I would completely understand if you can’t forgive me, but I need you to know that I love you. I have only ever loved you, and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the fact that, even for a moment, I let you think that you weren’t the most important thing in my life, my number one priority. Will you marry me?”

“Buck…” you began, not sure how to phrase what you were about to say. “What about your job? I can’t keep coming in second to the rest of the world, and I get that it’s selfish of me, but–”

“I quit,” he said simply.

“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock at his statement. 

“The second I heard your voicemail, where you said you wanted to call it because I was never there, I told Steve I was done, that I needed to start putting you first. It wasn’t even a question. I’m officially retired.”

Your mouth hung open. You had hoped he would cut down on his missions, but for him to have quit completely… You gently tugged him to his feet, taking the ring box and running a finger across it.

“It’s lovely,” you told him softly. “Absolutely perfect; exactly what I would have picked for myself.” Bucky beamed at you, pleased. “But I can’t accept it.” His face fell as you gently placed the ring back in his hands. 

“Oh,” he whispered, eyes growing glassy. “I… um, I understand. I fucked up, hurt you. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

“I still want to be with you, you idiot,” you admonished him. “But you did hurt me, and we’ve been apart for a long time. We need time to find our way back to each other again, okay? Ask me again on Valentine’s Day, just like you originally planned. Don’t do it now just because you fucked up.” You leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him. “And if it helps make you feel better, I’m probably going to say ‘yes,’ anyway.”

Bucky grinned at you. “Really?” he asked. When you nodded, he picked you up and spun you in  a circle before pressing his lips to yours as if he hadn’t touched you in months. “I promise you, Sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to make this up to you, I swear it.”

“Anything?” you asked with a smile. “I think I know where you can start.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked you. “And where’s that?”

“Take me to bed, Bucky Barnes,” you said, kissing him again.

Without a word, Bucky swung you over his shoulder and ran with you up the stairs, your squeals and giggles echoing behind him.

Much, much later, when you lay sated together tangled in limbs and sheets with Alpine snuggled next to your heads, Bucky played with your fingers as you rested your head on his bare chest.

“So, Doll,” he said, kissing the pads of each of your fingers, “you gonna tell me who had the nerve to ask my girl out on a date?” 

You laughed. “Lainy’s cousin, Harris. I suppose I’ll have to text him now and tell him I’m not interested.”

“Hell no, you’re not interested,” Bucky chuffed. “Gonna have to remind that punk you’ve already got a boyfriend. The position has been filled.”

“That’s the thing, though,” you said, planting a kiss on his nose. “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, do I?”

Bucky’s face fell. “But I thought you said–”

“I’ve got myself a fiance.”

Bucky tightened his grip around you, drawing you even closer to his warmth. “Yeah, okay. I gotta admit I like the sound of that a lot better.”

Your entire relationship with Bucky Barnes might not have played out like a fairy tale, but in that moment, you were more sure than ever that you two would get your happily ever after.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier #marvel mcu #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n