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#//Escort them to get food if they lose; then to the stands or walk them somewhere if they need time alone to make sure they're okay
redxriiot · 1 year
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in the teacher verse, Ei's absolute favorite school days are Parents Day and the Sports Fest day
#hc#v; go beyond (plus ultra!)#//Close after is post final exams bc he can treat his students to FOOD#//Parents Day he likes most once his kid gets to UA; bc he will BE SO doting#//And troll the other teachers by ditching talking to parents to go talk to his coworkers and play with his kid#//Will Not want his mom to show up in his stead bc while he appreciates the gesture; HE wants to be there#//Since she never really showed up to his parents day or stayed Very briefly if she did#//Bo he wants to SPOIL his kiddo#//That and he would do it anyways for his students that also don't have parents showing up#//Asks then offers to be their dad if they tell him what's up. Will ALWAYS be there for his kiddos#//Sports fest days are his all time faves bc he gets to be That Dad to his kiddos#//Screaming words of encouragement; personally going down to congratulate them if they win#//Escort them to get food if they lose; then to the stands or walk them somewhere if they need time alone to make sure they're okay#//Personally takes his injured kiddos to Recovery Girl if need be; is like a v worried parent the whole trip there#//Takes all the photos and videos for them; genuinely wants them to feel admired and awed#//Casually talks them up to Pros he meets; about their strengths and capabilities; so they good intern offers#//Most definitely regales his students with Tales From Back In the Day#'Ah; I remember MY. Fiest Sports Festival like it was yesterday-'#'Red Riot-sensei; pls-'#//If he has friends on the staff; he WILL start playful rivalries#//Tell his kids no homework for a week plus a pizza party if at least one of them places higher in the fest than all of so and so's student#//The more fellow hero course students they place higher over; the more bonus rewards they get#//If one of his own wins first place; he takes them all on a class trip of their choice#//Even clears it with Nezu ahead of time; to 'encourage them to do their best and Succeed' he'd say#//And promise to make it educational; like the training camp#//So many thoughts of Teacher!Kiri rn hbdbf
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loveliestlovelygirl · 3 months
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Everything You Hear
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finnick odair x fem!reader
synopsis: celebrity escort, finnick odair makes weekly visits to the noble woman you serve. sometimes, things between them get really loud at night. you hate to admit just how many times you've put your ear to the bedroom door, imagining he is yours instead.
w.c: 1k+
highlights: {minors dni} in-universe, implied sex-trafficking, sexual content, voyeurism, secret pining made known, confessions
When Finnick Odair knocks on the entrance door of your lady’s Capitol penthouse, you are to answer immediately and allow him inside, give him a place to sit and food to eat. In your care, he does not want for anything while your lady is away. You are to ensure that he is comfortable and ready for her arrival.
Which is just what you do when he drops by unannounced while she’s away at a banquet. You recognize the sound of his closed fist beating against the door. He knocks only twice and then waits. Opening the door, you find him leaning against the wall with his legs crossed and hands in his pockets. His sea-green eyes scroll up your body, landing on your face.
You curtsey. While Finnick is a familiar face to you, he is a celebrity to all of Panem and worthy of your respect, even if he’s your lady’s escort. You’re not entirely sure why she has a relationship with someone like Finnick. She never speaks of that with you, and you don’t ask. It’s not your place to ask of such things.
“Finnick,” you say timidly as he walks past you towards the long sofa in the parlor. “Is there anything I can get you?” In the past, you had called him Mr. Odair to show your reverence for his celebrity, but after a while, he insisted you use his name. That still makes you feel special every time you think of it.
His smile is so wide and so bright. You don’t understand why he looks so happy to see you. To him, you are nothing. In comparison to him, you are nothing, just a servant of the woman he pleases.
“Just a glass of water with—”
“Three ice cubes,” you finish for him.
He smiles again, oh so brightly. “You remembered.”
You give a soft nod before disappearing into the kitchen. You fetch a clean glass for him and fill it with cold water from the filter. You drop three, exactly three, large ice cubes into the glass, and walk back to the sofa. When you deliver it to Finnick, your hands shake. It’s rare you’re so close to him. Beside him you’re blinded by your adoration for him and his glorious presence so much so that you forget yourself and lose track of how long you stand there before him. By the time you realize you’ve been staring, he’s sipped half the water.
Finnick pats the cushion beside where he sits. “Have a seat.” It’s not a question. He’s given you a command. And you have no choice but to answer him. You’ve never sat beside his golden body in all of the times you’ve entertained him briefly.
His white shirt hangs open just a tad too much. Finnick wears one necklace that’s shaped like and arrowhead. Is it meaningful to him? Or just a fashionable expression. What you know with certainty is the chest that bears it is strong and so lovely. Has your lady ever taken a moment to appreciate his beauty like this? Or simply enjoyed the pleasure of his company.
“Why are you nervous?” he asks, turning his body toward you.
He must have picked up on the way he makes you tremble so. Or how you can hardly look him in the eye when he’s talking to you, trying to protect yourself from falling for him even more. Someone like you could never fall for Finnick Odair.
“It’s nothing,” you dismiss, too afraid to reveal your heart to him.
“I think I know,” he says smugly.
“I promise you, you don’t.”
Finnick leans back and stretches his arm out on the sofa top. “It’s all in the eyes. You can’t hide it.” He leans in close. “Just admit it. You feel something for me.”
Inching away, you shoot him a spiteful glare. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
“Comes with a price, you know.” He gets even closer to you. “It all makes sense to me. I come here all the time. I’m nice to you. I flirt with you. It’s only a matter of time before… you want me.”
You laugh lightly, uncomfortably because… it’s true. He’s a perceptive guy. He certainly didn’t win the Games at fourteen because of his good-looks and old-world charm. But you realize that-- all the times he looked at you just a little too long, offered you a bite of his food, or complimented you—he meant to woo you. You’re sure he has some ulterior motives, for why would he want anything to do with a servant girl.
When his fingers lightly graze your shoulder—it’s the first time he’s ever touched you—you let out a whimper. You get this bubbly, hazy feeling in the pit of your stomach. How you’ve longed for his sweet touch.
“But you see… you’re a little different than those on my weekly ‘to-do’ list. You can’t offer me anything in return. But I think—I think that’s kinda nice, don’t you? You’ve always been kind to me when I’ve offered you nothing in return but a little flirting. You’re a sweetheart, you know that right? Pretty too.”
Your face heats up. You feel it on your cheeks when he calls you pretty.
“So… call me sometime? I know you have my number. You’ve probably have it memorized, right?”
Of course, you do. But you’d never admit to it. “Finnick, what are you saying?”
He leans over you, his chest touching you back as his lips move close to your left ear. “Everything you hear… if you want it, can happen for you. I wouldn’t mind. Intimacy when both parties have no secret motives… is a luxury I’m not typically given.”
“You’re offering me… sex?”
He shrugs. “If that’s what you think is happening in the other room. It’s up to you.”
You search his face for answers. His mysterious smile tells you nothing at all. How could someone like him not be afforded the luxury of intimacy. From what you’ve heard, he’s intimate with many. You wonder what he means by secret motives. What could he mean?
“Just think about it,” he teases, “when your ear is pressed against the door, and you hear her crying out my name. That could be you, anytime.”
Those words sink in, crashing into your soul. For a long time, you’ve yearned for him. You suppose he understands exactly why.
The things you’ve heard when you push your ear to your lady’s wall or the door. The beautiful sounds of what happens in the other room. Is it finally your turn?
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libertyybellls · 3 months
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FEVERS !
finnick x reader series
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pre seventieth-hunger games
contains; angst, heartbreak, second perspective, little to no use of ‘y/n’.
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the water is anything but a mirror of your stagnant body, the waves are fighting the shore- crashing angrily as if to make a point of the fury climbing through your body.
you’re still, despite the slight water droplets tickling your bare legs. another year, another reaping, a handful of deaths. and with reapings in district four, came finnick, finally returning from the capitol.
it wasn’t hard to go on with your life without him, the most difficult of times being when you’d wake up with things to tell him, not knowing what was going on in his life. remembering how he looked down on you, how he laughed pointedly in your face before treating you like one of his fangirls- pretentiously slamming the door in your face.
but you were fine on your own now, over four long years had passed by in a flash and you’d left him alone- though he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
you didn’t see him at the lighthouse near the pier, you didn’t hear him lauging when you’d walk to school together, you didn’t smell the sea salt whenever he’d walk into any room, didn’t feel the water spraying over you shivering body when he’d shake his wet hair out of the beach.
none of it mattered, your best friend was gone. you’d unfailingly remember the day finnick had been reaped, he wasn’t too sterling on putting on a mask back then. his eyes blown, his hesitance to step up to that stage. his eyes would’ve found yours in any crowd then. you thought you’d gone through the worst of it all losing him- oh, how you thought it was all over.
it was a dark morning in district four, you were simply just impending your attendance at the reaping to conclude, then return back to your bed, easier said than done.
your body distastefully pulled itself from the sand as the sun creeped up on the shoreline, signaling the end of your escape.
your mind was elsewhere- zoning out into your own world of issues until that familiar hue of lilacs from the hydrangea bush near your home caught your eye.
the trek from the beach was short, and your home was small. despite the fact that district four was amongst the wealthiest districts, the balance came in practical ways; enough food to go round, electricity and power for each family, but still treacherous working conditions.
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finnick is standing behind the placemats of where the tributes will stand minutes from now, he can spot you in any crowd- but it scares him in a way. why can he only see you? despite the sea of girls your age surrounding you he can only see you.
the video plays, the same video that plays every year before finnick gets to get a good look at his tributes. it’s snow, he talks of war, of despair- as if the districts are a stranger to it.
usually he zones out, usually he doesn’t mind the names called. but something feels wrong about this day in particular. something that makes him easily strartled, like he should run.
you keep your eyes to your shoes, to the sand that covers the tips of them- but you can still feel his eyes, they’re burning you. not quite like the sun that scorches your eyes, but a burn you couldn’t hide from.
“ladies first!” your escorts voice is too peppy, it scratches your ears wrong. you just want to go home, more than usual. you want to close in on yourself.
the crinkling of the unfolding paper echoes through the microphone, a smile on the escorts painted lips, you almost feel like your dreaming.
you and finnicks minds are brought back to reality when your name is called. finnicks mind must have made it up, maybe hes been plagued with sun poisoning. his excuse is cut short as the girls around you form a gaping path from you to the stage, he knows you want to disappear, a part of him does too. your mother lets out a wail, but you can’t look at her- only as the peace keepers who lead you with hands on your back your back to the stage.
finnicks guilt consumes him wholly, it was surely his fault. something he did, something he said- he got your name into that bowl far too many times then it needed to be. he sees your face, he sees your tense shoulders as you walk your way up the stairs, onto the placemat on the stage. he knows you feel closed in at the stares, at the eyes of everyone- the cameras.
this is sickening, how well he can read you after all these years. how he has instantly promised to any god that was listening that he would not sleep until you made it out, that he would not quit the pleasure and charms of the capitolites until they gave you all of the materials you needed.
sickening, how your hair had waves it in- and he instantly knew it was from you taking your hair out of braids after they’d gotten wet from the saltwater. how you were slowly blinking- your dead give away at calming yourself down.
he cursed the crowd, he cursed snow, he cursed himself. how has nobody volunteered? how could snow try and hurt you after he’s spent so long shielding you from this exact moment? how could he let himself sit here and do nothing?
“and now, the boys!” the escorts voice makes finnick sick now, he swears he can feel blood dripping down his ears. the same voice that called out yours- that tried to take you to your death. “lux dagon!”
you’ve heard of him before, he’s a year older than you. he’s said to be charming, smart, likeable. all of your premonitions are proven to be true when he squares his shoulders off, a captivating smile flooding his mouth. unlike you, he doesn’t hesitate to stride up to the stage- he was a career child.
he’d waited his whole life for this moment, he was smarter, stronger, taller, and faster than you. his eyebrows were thick and dark, just like his round eyes. olive skin, and dark hair that fringed down to his forehead.
you were sure you were dead this moment, you were dead and you couldn’t even put up a fight. it was slightly enthralling, how your last bit of hope for survival was crushed at one mere name.
luxs smile reappears when he turns to you, the color was drained for your face- mouth slightly agape. he winks incredulously as he sticks his hand out to shake yours. you take it, well aware of the fact that your hand is very-likely soaked in sweat.
you can’t keep eye contact with him, all you can see is your mother being held back by peacekeepers- her face would be etched into your mind for some time. her only child, only family- you felt saddest for her most of all. because you knew this would be the last she saw of you before you’d be killed on television- you didn’t want to think about how helpless she’d feel, how she’d never quite be the same.
you try not to pay any mind to finnick as you make your way to the train car. infact, you don’t pay mind to anyone.
but nevertheless, finnick is hot on your tail- leaving no room for personal space. you’re sure it will be a long train ride, silent on your part.
the walls are dark grey, lined with gold. light fixtures decorate every surface. a plethora of food and drinks await you, none of it is fish nor vegetables. you don’t know what it is, but your stomach can’t handle the sight of it.
you sit on a red couch, gold hugs the ends of the seat. lux joins, taking the spot next to you. you don’t cause a stir when finnick sits in front of you, and certainly not when mags sits diagonal.
it almost feels like a sick joke to finnick, the idea that you’re infront of him after all these years, and not saying a word. you’re alive but you’re about to face issues larger than you’re ready for. it feels like he might never escape, like he may never rid himself of being tormented.
a voice tears him from his thoughts, “so, what can i do to win?” lux asks eagerly, his hands are clasped and his elbows are on his knees- eyeing finnick and mags.
finnick is solely not in a fit state to humor his excitement. looking to his lap with a sigh then pinching the bridge of his nose. “that’s a broad question.”
lux can’t sense the bitterness in his words, it almost seemed unprofessional of finnick. your district-mate mutters soemthing about how he’s already well equipped to kill, “water? what if it’s dry land?”
mags gets up from her seat, coughing- off to the bathroom. lux then splays his hands on his jean clad knees, and pushes himself up, irritated at the lack of response.
you can’t help but agree, if you’d really cared that much- if you were truly that desperate to win, and had been asking for advice to no avail, you’d be indignant as well.
one out of sight, finnick looks straight at you. your back is leaning into the cushion of the couch, hands fiddling. he wants to know where you are right now- that sinking dazed look is in your eyes, all he wants is to throw the rope and get you out of your head. “they love him already.”
you snap your head at his words, he doesn’t say your name- but it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice speak to yours in years. his words are covering the sweetness in his voice. you take this chance to study his face, a lot has changed- you just wished it wasn’t in these circumstances that you’d see your best friend again.
he sighs, “y/n.” finnicks eyes are pleading with yours now, “focus, if you can’t beat him, join him. we can’t have him being district fours favorite.”
your eyebrows furrow, you want to scream at him, it doesn’t feel right simply speaking to him- it felt too soon, but so long. “i’m sorry.” you let out a sigh, “can you speak in simpler terms, the poverty back home has given me brain rot- mr odair.” the ridicule in your tone has him seething, knuckles white as he grips the chair.
you’d never been one to simply forgive, you always held grudges, but never with him- it never should’ve been that way. finnick didn’t know what he expected when he thought he could simply prance into your life once more and beg for you to do as he says. he should’ve known you’d come up with a million reasons as to why he thinks he’s better than you, he knew you’d tricked yourself into thinking that he was on some sort of capitol high horse after winning.
but it’s what you’d do, what you’d always done. as if you were in a constant state of survival- this only scared him. finnick knew he’d make you a winner, no matter what it would take. he had nothing left to give to the capitol, his dignity, his body, his mind, but he swore he’d get you out of this- though he also knew the victors life would tear you to shreds.
you didn’t want to treat him this way, it was only the way he looked at you like he was high and mighty. so egotistical, nothing like the boy you once knew. as if his mind was superior to yours, like he was too snotty to be in your presence.
he sits up in his chair, running a hand through his hair before leaning close to you. “i’m just trying to help you.”
you knew this, yet you couldn’t take it. his advice burned your ears, it made you feel small. to have him try to teach you, after all that’s happened.
after a few beats of your eyes latching onto the ground- neglecting eye contact as he desperately tried to gauge your interest, he stood up, almost disappointedly. you supposed this was him turning in for the night.
the sceneries whizzed past you in the window, greens and brows in a haze. you just wanted to be back home, on the beach- far far away from the capitol. though like many things, it seemed too good to be true.
you couldn’t help but think about finnick, how all you needed was him right now- his laugh, the way he’d always know what to say. but you didn’t recognize him, the times you’d forget you weren’t friends, or even civil haunted you.
how did either of you forgive yourselves for letting things become this way, to have gone from a connection you were born to have built, to being unable to speak.
your mind blames him, blamed the fact that he’d changed and forgot to tell you, the fact that he’d slammed the door in your face. but your conscious thoughts blamed yourself, for not understanding what he’d gone through, for not being more patient.
and so you’d close your eyes, thinking of the times finnick had helped your mom cook fish- insisting to her that it’s impossible to burn fish. he wore a sweet smile then, his hair was shorter- he looked more comfortable in his own skin. you wondered when that had all changed, when things had been turned this way.
ׂׂૢ་༘࿐
a/n: this was just a preface! not an actual chapter. i actually hate this with my whole heart but i needed to get this out of the way so the story would make sense. trust they’ll work it out !!
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feelbokkie · 6 months
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One Last Dance | Chapter 11
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pairing: Minho x fem reader
genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, major character death (I am apologizing now), friends to lovers, soul mates, first love, roommates
pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)
warnings: swearing, mention of food, mention of sex
summary: Childhood best friends Lee Minho and L/n Y/n are in their final year of university. While both of them are in love with each other, the only thing keeping them apart is Minho’s fear of change. As both dancers prepare for their lives after college, will Minho finally let fear rule him and his emotions or will he finally gain courage before he loses Y/n forever?
word count: 3,301
screenshot count: 19
taglist: closed!
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©feelbokkie (2023) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.
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You toss your phone aside and quietly groan at the "almost stepdad" comment. You lean your head against the back of the couch and pinch the bridge of your nose, anticipating the headache you’re going to get from Minho when he finally reads it. Be has no reason to get jealous over it, but knowing him, he might anyway.
Truth be told, you have no idea where your relationship stands with Minho after your beach trip. You slept together, a boundary you weren’t expecting to ever cross with him after he rejected you last year. And you were fine with that. As long as he was in your life, you were okay with that. But almost dying made something click for you. And it must have made something click for him too because, why else would he sleep with you?
You both care so deeply for each other, and that’s why your relationship works so well. You push each other to be the best versions of yourself. You probably wouldn’t be half the dancer you are today if you didn’t have Minho pushing you when you were younger. You’ve always been there for each other. Like when your parents asked him to escort you to your first date just so you wouldn’t have to walk to the meeting place alone. He did it begrudgingly. And when your date inevitably stood you up, he came and told you that he wanted to see the movie too so the two of you should just go together and get something to eat after. And then he promptly got suspended the next school day for finding the upperclassman who stood you up and breaking his nose.
And you'd do similar things for him, even though it never felt like you did anything of equal value to his favors for you. Favors, because that's what they felt like before you realized you liked him. Like when you practically lived with him for a month back in high school because you have always been better at school than him. His parents threatened to pull him out of taekwondo, martial arts, and dance if his grades didn't improve. After school activities that he did with you. So you made sure to go home with him every day, some days bringing him home with you, so you two could study together. You complain about how codependent Minho is, but maybe you're just as dependent on him as he is on you.
You can't think of a single day of your life where Minho wasn't there. You've been together since birth, literally. Minho's mother went into labor and for some reason, your mother did too even though she wasn't due to give birth for another month or so. It was almost as if you said, "Wait, me too!" While you were in the NICU, Minho was right there next to you, suffering from his own health issues. Despite the severity of your conditions, the two of you were discharged the same day. Your parents often talk about how much you and Minho used to cry when you were infants and how the only way to get you two to stop was to put you together. Even for college, the two of you ended up applying to all the same universities and made the decision together, it was almost a no-brainer. Second nature for one to follow the other.
Meow.
You lift your head off the back of the couch and look next to you. Moonshine is sitting next to you, tilting her head and staring. You check the time on your phone and shake your head.
"You hungry, Moonie? Go get Soonie, Doongie, and Dori. I'll put your food right now." You stroke her fur before she hopped off the couch and went in the direction of Minho's room. You stand up from your position on the couch and stretch. Once you're settled, you make your way to the kitchen. You make sure to close the makeshift double-decker cat gate behind you to avoid an incident like the flour. You still remember the day you and Minho had to get supplies to make it. You were 19 and baby fact. It was evident that you two were freshly out of high school, or at the very least, really young. You decided it would be cheaper to buy two baby cribs and combine them.
You quickly put food and water for the cats and put it in the living room where they are already waiting to be fed.
"Don't eat too fast, you know you'll choke and if you die on my watch, dad will kill me." You add before heading back to the kitchen.
Minho should be home from work soon. He's been at work all day. They called him in to work a double this morning. It's almost dinner time and you know he's going to be starving when he gets home. He'll probably be too tired to make something for himself and he often doesn't eat at the restaurant because he knows everyone who works in the kitchen.
You open the fridge and scan what you have that could be made quickly. You're tired yourself, having worked another shift at the bar the night/morning before. And you already cooked today when you made lunch for Jisung, Chan, and Changbin. You settle on kimchi fried rice when you find some leftover rice from last night's dinner. It's simple, quick, and, most importantly, Minho's favorite.
***
Click
You rub your eyes as you sit up. You look around. All four cats surround you, in various stages of sleep. You didn't mean to fall asleep. After cooking dinner, you decided to do some homework while waiting for Minho on the couch. You must have fallen asleep while watching your professor's dance demo for class on Monday.
"Ah, did I wake you?" Minho whispers. Careful to not wake Dori and Moonshine.
"It's fine. I would have caught a cold sleeping out here anyway. Welcome home." You greet as you carefully get up from the couch.
"Thank you," He says quietly as he takes off his shoes and leaves them next to yours. You look at the time on your phone out of curiosity it's two hours later than he was supposed to be home.
"Did they ask you to stay late?" You turn around to find Minho taking off his jacket and setting his bag down by the door.
"Yeah, one of the servers called out last minute and the only other person who could have covered her shift needed some time to get there. But it's fine, we could use the extra money."
"True," You stand awkwardly by the couch. How are you supposed to greet him? A kiss? You shake the thought out of your head. "I made dinner. It's on the stove."
"Oh," Minho freezes for a second.
"You ate at the restaurant?"
"I had to. My options were pass out or risk food poisoning and I really don't want to pass out."
"Okay, that's fine." You give him a soft smile before making your way to the kitchen.
You grab a bowl and put some of the rice in it, making sure to get one of the eggs and putting it on top. You put the food in the microwave above the stove. You suddenly feel something on your shoulder. You turn your head to find Minho's head resting on your shoulder, his chin slightly diffing in.
"You made my favorite." He hums quietly.
"I didn't feel like cooking a full thing and we still had some rice from last night so, quick dinner." You're not sure why you're downplaying the fried rice. One of the reasons why you made it is because it is his favorite.
"Ah," Minho opens his mouth and waits for you to put some rice in it. You grab the serving spoon and take a bit of rice before putting it in Minho's mouth.
Beep, beep
You grab your food out of the microwave just as Minho grabs his own bowl and starts filling it with the rice.
"You don't have to eat because I'm eating."
"I'm eating because it's good and I'm still hungry." He says quickly. You know he feels bad that you went through the trouble of cooking and he already ate, so you drop it.
You walk to the small dining room and sit at one of the table settings you made earlier.
A few minutes later, Minho joins you, sitting across from you in the other setting. Both of you eat in silence, which isn't abnormal for the two of you. Both of you will often just sit in silence together, perfectly content with just being next to each other.
"I know you're tired but did you want to watch some TV before bed?" You ask suddenly.
Ever since the beach trip, you've felt distant from Minho. Or rather, you feel as if he's been distant from you. It's been almost three weeks but you've never felt farther away from him even though you were the closest any two humans could be without crawling into each other's skin. Technically speaking.
"Yeah, that'd be nice actually. My body is tired, but I don't think I can fall asleep right now." He yawns. You know that's almost definitely a lie. He could probably fall asleep in his bowl right now. And maybe you're a bit selfish, willing to steal any moment you can with Minho, but you don't care.
"Okay, we can keep watching that show we started last time."
***
The two of you sit on the couch, the cats moved to your respective bedrooms so they can sleep while you two watch TV. Minho is leaned all the way back into the couch, his left arm draped over your shoulder, his hand resting on your butt. Your head rests on his chest. You're listening to the beating of his heart and breathing more than you are the drama. His heart is beating at a calm, steady pace, his breathing even. You're sure he's fallen asleep. You don't move out of fear of waking him up and because you like being near him like this. You can fall asleep yourself if you're not careful.
You're not even paying attention to what's happening on the screen. It's some romance about friends and that's pretty much all you know. You and Minho only started watching it after Hyunjin harassed the two of you into starting it so he could have someone to talk to about it.
You start blinking suddenly when the TV pauses. You furrow your brows and sit up only to find Minho with the remote. You didn't even feel him move.
"Bedtime?" You ask yawning.
"No--I mean yes, but I was thinking we could talk first," Minho says, sitting up, his body becoming visibly stiff.
ba-dump
"Talk about what?" Your voice is small and wavering. The idea of someone asking to talk is anxiety-inducing enough, the fact that Minho said it is killing you. Nearly 3 weeks after you slept together. After watching the drama you were just watching. You can't help by jump to conclusions.
"We," Minho shifts towards you a bit, his dark brown eyes staring directly into yours. The last time you two made eye contact like this, you two were otherwise preoccupied in a motel room. "We never talked about what happened during the beach trip."
ba-dump, ba-dump
"We don't have to, we're both tired and it's late." You say quickly, not fully ready for this conversation.
"Y/n, if I don't talk about this tonight, I'm not going to get any sleep again." He says softly.
ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump
Your heart feels like it's going to burst out of your chest in anticipation. You try to swallow, but there is a dry lump in your throat. You're not sure why you're scared. It's Minho, your best friend. Your other half. He would never do anything to hurt you.
"Fine, for the sake of your sleep schedule, let's talk about it." You respond softly, resting your hand on his knee. His eyes fall to your hand for a second as he stares, contemplating, like he's trying to figure out what to say.
ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dum
“What... what if— How about we treat it...like...a one-night stand.” His voice cracks as he suddenly makes eye contact with you again. He wasn't asking, he was commanding it. Almost pleading for it.
Crack
The cracking sound is so muffled, that you're not sure it's coming from inside the apartment complex or from your own heart. Your breathing quickens as your heart pounds louder in your chest and your lungs can't expand to their full capacity. You feel exactly like you did when you were drowning.
Let's treat this like a one-night stand.
You are drowning. An overwhelming wave of sadness hits you just like the wave that almost completely overtook you. Right, you wish it had. Tears flood your eyes, not even threatening you come out by pricking the back of your eyes. The corner of your lips pulling down, shaking as you try your best to stop the overwhelming emotion. To stop from completely losing your shit, but you're failing.
“H-how..." Your voice wavers, almost breathless as you try to process what Minho said. "How can you tell me to treat this like a one-night stand when you know how I feel about you?”
Minho looks down again at your hand, unable to look you in the eyes now that a stream of tears pour out of them.
"Y/n, we shouldn't have done it in the first place. We crossed a boundary we shouldn't have crossed because we were both scared." His hand reaches down to his knee. You retract your hand at his sudden touch. It felt like being touched by fire and for the first time in your life, it felt like a bad thing.
"So—so you muster up the courage to tell me that. Not do whatever the fuck this is!" You shout. You're no longer in control of your emotions.
"I tried, believe me, I tried to bring this up."
"No the fuck you didn't. Not once since we got back from our trip did you ever pull me to the side to try to talk."
"I was scared!" He cries out, tears falling from his face.
"Of course you were scared!" You quickly stand up from the couch. "You're always scared! You let fear run your life. You're scared of me leaving so you don't act on your feelings for me. You're scared of change so you don't take full advantage of your talents. You're scared because I almost died so you sleep with me! You're scared of letting yourself be happy so you are sabotaging whatever this is."
"It's reasonable to be scared."
"Not like this. This is ridiculous. You're scared of love--or maybe you're scared of loving me--but none of this is reasonable."
"I'm not scared of loving you." He takes a step towards you and you quickly take a step back. Everything about him hurts, even his comforting touch.
"Really? Then say it," You spit, your anger taking over your sadness.
"Y/n, you know I love you. I don't have to say it."
"Yes, you do!"
"Why?"
"That shouldn't be a question. I shouldn't have to stand here and beg you to love me back! It shouldn't be difficult for you to say it! Even—no, especially if you're scared! Because I am terrified. But I can still say that I love you. I can say that I'm in love with you. Truly, madly, deeply, foolishly in love with you. And I hate it. I hate myself for it. I'm starting to hate you for it.
"Don't say that. Y/n don't say that. You don't mean that." Again, he walks towards you and, again, you back up.
"I do mean it. Do you know how much simpler my life would be if I just liked you platonically? Significantly simpler. I wouldn't compare every man I meet to you. You wouldn't be occupying every waking thought. I could be...happy."
"We were happy. We didn't have to complicate things. Can't this be enough?"
"It was until you opened your mouth! I just--" You take a deep breath, looking at Minho one more time. The anger quickly leaves your body, being replaced by overwhelming sadness. "I'm just really, really, really tired. I can't keep doing this to myself."
"Y/n--"
"No, no I can't. I won't. I can't keep letting you hurt me like this. This isn't good for us. This isn't good for me. I need—" You ramble as you run your hands through your hair. You pace around the living room trying to figure out what to do while Minho tries to get your attention.
Without really thinking, you walk to your room, locking the door behind you. You lean your back against the door and slide down. Hugging your knees to your chest, you let out a sob so loud, that you aren't even aware that you couldn't be that loud.
Moonshine wakes up from her nap and makes her way to you, purring. Your hand finds her fur and you stroke it softly as you sniffle. You sit there for what feels like hours, stroking Moonshine. The only sound that can he hear is your sniffling and Minhos's pleads on the other side of your door.
Finally having enough, you stand up and walk straight to your closet. You pull out a couple of suitcases and Moonshine's carrier. You put all the suitcases on your bed and start packing your things. You make sure to pack your school things and clothes for work. You're not even paying attention to anything else you're grabbing. You just need to leave. You can't keep putting yourself through this torture of the push and pull with Minho. You have to put yourself first.
You make sure to grab some of Moonshine’s toys and snacks. You can get food for her later. She won’t eat until late morning anyway, giving you enough time to find something. Once you finish packing your bags, you scoop Moonshine up and put her in her carrier. Looking over your room again, you’re satisfied you have everything you need for a few weeks. Before picking up your bags and leaving your room, you yank off the necklace you’re wearing. You stare at your closed fist hand for a second before slowly opening it to reveal the scallop shell from the beach trip. You made it into a necklace and kept it close. As a souvenir of your trip. A souvenir that will forever be tainted with a bitter.
You finally grab your bags, and Moonshine, and head out, only to run into a confused Minho. His eyes are bloodshot and his face is puffy.
“Where are you going?” He panics.
“I can’t stay here anymore,” You answer quietly.
“It’s late. Where are you going to go?”
“I’ll manage.”
“Y/n,”
You walk past Minho and go straight for the door. You stop dead in your tracks when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist. Minho drops his head on your back, tightening his grip.
“Y/n, please don’t go. I’m sorry. You can hate me and be mad at me all you want but please don’t leave me.” He whispers.
“You know what’s funny?” You scoff, “You were so scared of me leaving but this shit right here is what made me leave. You pushed me away. This is on you. ” 
"Please," You pull your arm out of Minho’s grip before quickly leaving him alone in the apartment.
Buy me a coffee?
Taglist
Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)
@amyyscorner @aaasia111 @weird-bookworm @allaboutyej8 @kangaracharacha @lilcutieana @jungkookies1002 @lanatheawesome @hanniemylovelyquokka @jiisungllvr @marked-unknown @kitheat @spearb-99 @chlodavids @veedoesntknaur @yongbbokkie @warlockwithoutcharisma @fennecnco @aslou  @babygirlsuna @jihanlovic @kalopsian-thoughts @reianagarcia @sunshinessky  @brain-empty-only-draken @f9clementine  @jaydebow @phtogravi @mal-lunar-28 @jhstayy
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thereader-radhika · 9 months
Text
5- Strategies and Solicitude
Part 1, 2, 3, 4
Madurai
"Tanjai has fallen" Can a few words give so much happiness to anyone? This is rivalled only by the happiness he felt when Kanchi fell. Jatilan was dancing as he hugged the guards who were with him. Gladdened by the sudden display of the prince's happiness and affection, they too started dancing. Much to his embarassment, Ravidasan called him 'Natarajan' and the other guards clapped and cheered even more. But Menandros kept himself busy as usual.
"Why don't you too join them and have some fun, Thalapathi?"
"Later. Now we have work to do, come."
Veera Pandyan pondered over the situation over a glass of toddy. He traced his fingers across a map which outlined the current holdings of different chieftains. Subjugation of Pallavas and the over-reliance on Pazhuvettaraiyars ultimately backfired on Cholas as there weren't enough troops or strong leadership to counter the unexpected attack on Kanchi and Tanjai. Some spies reported that Pallava forces didn't even bother to fight much. When you make peace with being a vassal, it doesn't matter if a new overlord replaces the former one.
However Tanjaiyum Kanchiyum konda (Conquerer of Tanjore and Kanchipuram) Kannara Devan gaining too much foothold in the region will hamper their rise. The king's secret council suggested that they should arrange for at least one Pazhavoor prince to return and capture Tanjai. Pazhuvettaraiyars fighting on multiple fronts will eventually weaken Cholas too. If they have to strike, they need to heat the iron themselves.
°°°°°°
Mazhappadi
Prince Amarabhujanga Jatilavarman tried his best to convince Mazhavarayar Madhavan that they aren't testing his loyalty. According to the secret council, the disgraced former chieftain of Mazhappadi is indeed the best candidate to plant an idea or two among Cholas. They will think that the man is just trying to reclaim the lost prestige of his clan. But the he dramatically beat his chest like a monkey and declared that he is a faithful servant of the meenkodi. If he wanted to betray them, he could have done it before this.
Manimaran, the one of ministers who escorted Jatilan and led the discussions, looked like he is itching to remind Madhavan of the times he tried to get into the good graces of Kodandaraman. But he managed to accomplish their task without any undesirable diatribe. Manimaran's adept management of the situation remained Ravidasan that he has much to learn about the practical ways of handling conflict in different scenarios.
Nevertheless can't this "help" genuinely endear him to the tigers? No one can blame him if he uses this opportunity as a ladder since the clan has suffered a lot for siding with the losing side. Ravidasan couldn't offer any better suggestions either. So he stayed quiet and concentrated on the prince's bodyguard duty, which was an even more tedious task than he expected. The boy is quite restless.
"I don't want you to follow me everywhere".
"We are the humble servants of your father, ilavarase."
"I order you to stand down and relax. If you don't want to relax, these people are planning to host a villupattu tonight. Help them with the arrangements."
"Our orders come from the Emperor himself".
"Ravi anna, you all please stay here and give us some privacy."
Us? Oh, that. Technically, they are supposed to taste the prince's food, accompany him everywhere and talk to everyone before they meet the prince. As the daughter of a respectable family, Uma Maheshwari might refuse to be treated like a commoner girl. Finally, they reached a compromise.
How could he forget the young prince's infatuation? Isn't that why Jatilan volunteered to come here in the first place? Though Madhavan offered to send a few of his men with them, they turned down the courtesy saying that the prince needs some relaxation after the tiresome deliberations. Ravidasan resisted the urge to playfully scoff with a roll of his eyes and tease him as they walked to the temple.
They were expecting to hear songs and the jingling of dancing bells but a doomed silence permeated the atmosphere. He observed them from a distance as Jatilan slowly approached a beautiful forlorn girl. Finally - the famous Uma Maheshwari! A pair of dance bells were placed on a platform near her seat and the crimson hue on the girl's cheeks indicated that she was aware of their, no, the prince's presence.
Ravidasan was even more surprised to hear the girl complaining about her "Parameshwaran" not visiting her earlier and prolonging their marriage. The girl is as fascinated about him as he is about her. So it isn't a mere one-sided crush as everyone thought! He didn't even dare to think what these crazy children are doing as he concentrated on the patterns on the Nandi statue. Their marriage was a topic discussed in the secret council but most people were against it as it will only result in Paranthakan keeping Mazhavarayar at an arm's length. May the Lord of Mazhappadi help his devotees to fulfill their desires!
Ponnar meniyane pulitholai araikisaithu, Minnar senchadaimel milirkondrai anindavane, Manne maamaniye mazhapadiyul manikkame, Anne unnai allal ini yarai ninaikene . . . (O Siva with the golden body! O Siva wearing the tiger skin on your waist and bright kondrai flowers on the lightning like matted locks! O king! O the great gem! O the ruby in Mazhapadi town! O mother! Who else except you will I think about!)
@celestesinsight @whippersnappersbookworm @sambaridli @harinishivaaa @sakhiiiiiii @sampigehoovuu @willkatfanfromasia @favcolourrvibgior
Part 6, 7, 8
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foreverrandomwritings · 10 months
Text
Controversially Young Girlfriend- Part 2
Summary: CYG gets lost trying to find the cafeteria to meet her girlfriend for lunch. Thankfully a friendly face helps guide her in the right direction. 
Pairing: Natasha “Phoenix” Trace x Controversially Young Girlfriend
Warnings: None?
Word count:872
Masterlist  Series Masterlist
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Admiral Simpson turned the corner heading towards his office. He had just gotten out of a meeting that left him feeling absolutely exhausted. He just needed to get back to his office and then he could eat his lunch. That was his plan until he saw a familiar face standing in the hallway looking utterly lost. He called out her name to get her attention. 
“Mr.Simpson, how are you doing today?” She asked as she turned toward the man, a hopeful smile on her face. She hadn’t been within these walls in years, not since her mom would occasionally bring her to work with her when she was a child. 
“I’m doing quite well. What’s got you on base?” He asked her inquisitively. With one of her mothers being a Judge Advocate General she had the military ID to get on base. But he knew that her mother wasn’t on a case that he had knowledge of. 
“I’m here visiting my girlfriend for lunch.” She said holding up the bag of food in her hands.
“Who would that be?” He looked through the halls for anyone he might suspect it to be. The fact it was a woman narrowed the list down exponentially but he still came up empty. 
“Phoenix.” That reply shocked him. He had obviously met the aviator on many occasions and he wouldn’t have guessed her for someone that would date so young. Hangman or Rooster would’ve been his first thought had she not said her girlfriend.
“I didn’t realize you were dating one of my aviators.” He said as he looked at his daughter's best friend in front of him. He could remember her losing her first tooth in tandem with his daughter. Both of them having worked on pulling them out together. To see her today looking so grown up made him a little winded. 
“Well I wasn’t aware I had to update you when my relationship status changed but if you must know it’s been a couple of months now.” She replied, giving him a sweet teasing smile.
“Would you like me to escort you to the lunch room?” He asked her as he nodded in the direction of the cafeteria.
“That would be great. I always seem to get lost here.” She said as her shoulders deflated, relief washing through her. They talked casually, catching up as they made their way to the mess hall.
“Admiral Simpson.” The aviators surrounding the table stood and saluted the man. 
“As you were.” He replied as CYG slipped away from his side walking towards her girlfriend. She placed the food on the table and slipped into a seat between Phoenix and Payback. 
“Found your girlfriend wandering the halls lieutenant.” He spoke to the front seater. She looked sheepish as the woman squeezed her hand.
“Sorry sir, won’t happen again.” She told him hoping to keep clear of a scolding.
“It’s quite alright. I always enjoy seeing my bonus daughter.” He said with a shrug. The dagger squad all looked at each other in surprise at the reply.
“Known her since she was in kindergarten actually.” She and his daughter had been quick friends and remained two peas in a pod ever since.
“Don’t you have anything better to do than standing here and harassing me? What would Tracy say if she saw you now?” CYG sassed him, at the mention of his wife his face turned slightly red.
“No need to get her involved in this. I’ll be on my way now. See you at the house for dinner tonight. ” He replied quickly, turning around and heading away from the group. No way was he going to get scolded by his wife for embarrassing the young woman who was basically an extra daughter at this point. He’s made that mistake in the past and didn’t dare go there again.
But he also couldn’t help but worry for her. He had seen how worried his wife had been through all of his deployments. He didn’t want CYG to go through the same thing while her girlfriend went away to fight for their country. The thought of keeping the Aviator stateside briefly crossed his mind. Though he quickly shook it away, that wouldn’t be fair to Phoenix. She had worked her ass off to get where she was and pulling orders wouldn’t help her any. He would just have to be sure to be there for CYG when the orders eventually came. No one knew just how soon that would be. (He did call Phoenix into his office later that day and warned her against hurting CYG)
The aviators around the table grilled CYG for most of lunch about her relationship with their Admiral. She just rolled her eyes and answered what she could. She really appreciated the man who had become a support system for her throughout her life. He had taken a father figure roll for her quickly after meeting him. Not that she needed another parent, her mothers had always been very immersed in her life and unwaveringly supportive. But she truly appreciated the older man and his wife taking her in as one of their own. Just as her parents had done for his daughter.
A/N: This is such a fun little series. I’m super excited to write more for it. I know I’m going to write Phoenix’s first deployment while they were dating. But if anyone has any other ideas let me know, I’m all ears.
Tags(open):  @sylviebell​ @wkndwlff​ @eternallyvenus​ @loving-and-dreaming​ @princess76179​ @kmc1989​ 
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eddieheart · 6 months
Text
On the Wall
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(Part one)
Fandom: Game of Thrones
Pairings: none yet
Description: A woman on the wall, it was hard to imagine. Yet here she was, pretending to be her dead brother.
Warning: it’s a little violent and it’ll only get worse from here
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The stench of death followed the group as they marched into the black castle. Well, the castle it's self wasn't black obviously, (how would you even make a castle black?) Not the outside of the building, but the people inside and their black souls.
Alessa's feet ached, they'd been walking for days, her empty stomach cried out for attention. She was fine though, she'd gone a lot longer with a lot less many a time before.
All she carried was stuffed into a small leather satchel, a small bag of dark bitter tea that seemingly only she and her siblings liked, a drawing Sarisa had made of their family on a piece of parchment and the little doll she'd given her elder sister before leaving. ‘For luck, to keep you safe’, she'd said in her small, gentle voice.
Alessa griped her necklace tightly. A wooden carving on a string the real Arell had made before he died, before he was killed. That's why she was here, risking her life at the wall.
The rowdy group walked up to menacing hold, their escort giving them a final salute before heading back to town. The gates opened, welcoming them inside.
"C'mon men, welcome to castle black. We'll take you down to the bunks first, you can leave any belongings there. You'll head down for a morning meal." A cranky old man called out to the lot.
Alessa, Arell now, gulped down the lump in her throat. She followed the crowd of men towards the barracks gently placing the last of her belonging on a straw mattress then heading off to the mess hall.
Sneaking into the hall quietly, she slipped through the crowds, grabbing a bowl of whatever they'd thrown together.
To everyone else it must have tasted absolutely rancid, but to Alessa it was liquid gold. The grey mush filled her stomach, satiated her hunger like it'd hadn't been in years, not since her mother was still around.
She could feel the eyes of the other men around her searing into her back. Alessa knew what she must look like, an absolute pig to be able to enjoy such slop. But she payed them no mind, finishing off her meal completely, her bowl was practically cleaned by the time she was done. Whomever got assigned wash duty would surely be pleased with her dish.
A hand on her shoulder startled her so badly she nearly jumped out of her seat. She'd been so engrossed in her meal that she hadn't noticed the others slowly streaming out of the hall and an elderly man walking up behind her.
"When was the last time you ate boy?" The man, she recognized as the Lord Commander, asked.
"Oh! I'm so sorry, m'Lord. I-I'll be off to the training grounds now." She tried to stand but was pushed back into her seat by the arm on her shoulder.
"I asked you, when the last time you ate was." He repeated in a steady voice.
Alessa swallowed thickly, slightly embarrassed to be asked such a question. Surely he was making fun of her appreciation of the food.
"Oh, I-I'm sorry. Beside today... maybe, three-four days ago." The elder man nodded solemnly.
"And your parents, they weren't very fortunate, you didn't get food often?"
"No ser."
"You eat too fast you'll lose your guts, 'specially if you haven't been eating much usual. But if after everyone is done there's still food left, you can always help yourself to another plate."
Alessa sat there in shock, no stranger had ever given her such a kindness before. Not in all her life had someone offered her more food than she got at home.
"Now, go an' get another bowl before Lloyd cleans us out, then hurry off to training. Y'need s'more meat on your bones. And if you're much longer Allister will have your arse." The man gave her one last hard pat on the back before walking off.
She smiled to softly to herself before running up for another bowl.
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She was about to follow the others when a voice called out to her.
"You, twig boy," she almost kept walking before he yelled out again. "Father killer." That stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Follow me."
He thrust a sword into her arms and practically dragged her after him.
They walked into the courtyard, a small group of men stopped sparring and turned to faced the domineering man.
"Well someone took their sweet time didn't they? Grab your damn sword and get over here." The first man gave the second a knowing look before leaving her.
"New recruit boys, tell 'em your name lad." The older man commanded.
Alessa swallowed the thick lump in her throat, hoping to calm the raging sea in her stomach. She glanced nervously at the other boys, willing herself to speak.
"Arell. Name's Arell Fisher." The five men stared at her, stone expressions save for one, who looked ready to kill her.
"And?" Allister asked, clearly searching for a specific answer.
"I'm from the north, between winter town and the dreadfort." The older man's eyes narrower at her.
That hadn't been the answer he was looking for, stepping forward he gave her a seething glare. Then turned to the other boys with a sick smirk.
"And." He let out a snarky grunt before shouting out again. "Well boy, tell them why your here!"
"I killed my father." Allister slapped her hard on the back, nearly sending her falling forward.
"That's right, slaughtered him in broad daylight. Right in front of your little sister wasn't it? How old again? Five? Ten?"
"She's seven."
"Well isn't that right. Go on then lad, can't be worse than you look. Your balls even drop yet?" The older man mocked.
Thorn grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, pushing her into the group of strangers. She stumbled over her own feet, grabbing onto her sword as tightly as she could.
"Rast." He called forward the man with the murderous look.
He smirked at her flipping the sword around in his hand then charging forward. She quickly sidestepped, throwing her arm forward on instinct, slamming her hand and the butt of her sword into the man's back.
"Not as useless as you look then 'eh? Rest 'oh you lot, go on."
A tall spindly boy walked forward. He had a similar body type to her and to the real Arell, she supposed. She swung her sword forward to block his blow, though his was hard enough to send her partially to her knees. One knee now still and covered with mud, she threw herself back up.
The man brought his sword down onto her shoulder, thank the gods it was blunt or it might have just ripped through her arm. Alessa swung her sword with the last of her strength, straight into the side of his leg, knocking him to the ground with a loud thump.
She was panting now, couldn't expect the next blow. Straight to her back, throwing her into the ground. He hits her a few more times, she holds back her screams. She won't give them the satisfaction of hearing her cry.
"Pathetic." Allister sneered, walking off, leaving them all alone.
Part 2: TBD
Thanks again to @buggylad for editing! :)
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daebakinc · 1 year
Text
Pretty Woman Pt. 4 (M)
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Pretty Woman AU
Pairing: Kihyun x Reader
Word Count: 4.3 K
Synopsis: Rich business man, Kihyun Yoo finds himself lost driving in Los Angeles. Stopping for directions he meets you, a prostitute on Hollywood Boulevard. What starts as a one night stand soon becomes a weeklong proposition, as Kihyun needs arm candy for his visit in the city of angels.
Part 1   Part 2   Part 3
~ Admin V
             Stretching, you felt the other side of the bed. Kihyun hadn’t slept next to you again. You heard him walking into the room and popped open an eye.
             “Good morning, starshine.”
             Grumbling in response, you attempted to pull the blankets closer to your face.
             “Time to shop.” Kihyun pulled the blankets down until you looked up at him. His wallet in hand, he counted out bills to give you.”
             “Joy, more shopping.”
             He handed you a thick wad of cash. You were half concerned about how much he’d lose if he were ever mugged. “I’m surprised you didn’t get more yesterday.”
             “It wasn’t as fun as I thought it would be.” You pretended to count the money so you wouldn’t fall back asleep.
             “Why’s that?”
             Letting out a huff you looked into his eyes. “They were mean to me.”
             An amused smile crept on his face. “They were mean to you?”
             When you explained how the stores had treated you, his smile quickly faded and he looked angry. His anger lightened when telling him how the hotel manager helped you, but it was still there.
             “Let’s eat some breakfast, then I’ll go with you today.”
             A little stunned, you couldn’t help but stare at him for a long moment. “You’ll go shopping with me? Don’t you have to work?” You certainly couldn’t imagine any store denying him entry.
             “It’s my company. I’ll go in later.” He walked to the wardrobe and pulled out one of his button down shirts. After finding your black skirt, he instructed you to put them on together. He then found the heels you wore last night.
             Though your skirt was still scandalously short, it didn’t look so bad paired with his shirt. The heels also gave it a more sophisticated look versus your boots.
             Once dressed, Kihyun took your arm in his as you made your way downstairs for continental breakfast. In the lobby you saw Chankyun and gave him a small wave. Noticing, Kihyun looked in his direction then back to you.
             “This is the hotel manager who helped you?”
             “Yeah.”
             Asking you to wait there a moment, Kihyun left you to talk to the manager. You saw him handing what looked to be the same wad of cash he tried to give you earlier. Changkyun tried to politely refuse, but Kihyun insisted, and as you recalled from last night, Kihyun always got what he wanted. The two men smiled to each other, and Changkyun smiled to you. Back at your side, Kihyun escorted you to the lounge.
             Sitting across from you, Kihyun had a black coffee and toast. He was very invested in something on his phone. You on the other hand had a plate piled with foods from the buffet.
             A strange tingly feeling bubbled in your stomach as you looked at Kihyun. He just paid Changkyun for taking care of you and now he was going shopping with you to ensure you were given respect. He was protecting you, or at least being protective of you.
             When he hired you for the week, he told you that you were to be his beck-and-call girl. You didn’t think he’d care about how people treated you when you weren’t meant to be on his arm. It gave you a new respect for him.
             You felt yourself blush when realizing his actions made you like him, which made you look down and focus hard on your Denver omelet.
             “You okay?” Of course he’d look at you now of all times.
             Forcing a cough you answered, “Wasn’t expecting it to be spicy.”
             He nodded and went back to his phone. He didn’t rush you and didn’t even mind when you went back to the buffet for seconds. Last night took it out of you, and you knew shopping today would also take a ton of energy.
             Even with Kihyun next to you, you couldn’t shake the nervous energy as you were back on Rodeo Drive. “People are looking at me.”
             “No they’re not. They’re looking at me.”
“What if they’re not nice again?”
“Stores are never nice to people. They’re nice to credit cards.” He led you to a store you hadn’t noticed yesterday called Façade. A store clerk approached the two of you immediately and Kihyun requested the store manager.
             Your mouth dropped a little when an incredibly thick, muscular man walked out. Like Kihyun, he was well dressed in a suit and exceedingly good looking. To be honest, before Kihyun you’d never met anyone rich, and suspected they’d all look like Gates, Bezos, and Musk. But from all the men you’d met in the last two days, it was clear you’d have to change that outlook.
             The other man smiled to you and Kihyun. “I’m Wonho, store manager of Façade. How can I help you?”
             He took the man’s hand and shook it. “Kihyun Yoo.” Kihyun motioned to you. “Do you have anything in the store as beautiful as her?”
             Kihyun thought you were beautiful? That caused another blush.
             Wonho grinned wider. “Oh yes.” Then his smile fell. “Oh no. I mean, we have things in the store as beautiful as she’d like them to be.” The man quickly became flustered.
             Your mouth fell open again. Kihyun was some kind of wizard. This other man looked like he could snap Kihyun in half, yet he was the one flustered and stumbling right now. Maybe you could convince him to go back to those other stores yesterday and see him force them on their knees begging for forgiveness.
             “Mr. Wonho, we’re going to need a lot more people helping us, because we’re going to spend an obscene amount of money in here, and we like being sucked up to.”
             Wonho’s jaw twitched. Hell, you were taken aback, too. You could pay people to suck up to you? Kihyun was going to pay them to be nice?
             Wonho smiled and nodded in response. He took you both back further into the shop and offered a comfortable chair for you to sit in. Kihyun wanted to stand back with Wonho.
             The bigger man handed you a binder. “You can flip to any page you want.” He opened it to a page with some spring fashions. “Now, watch this.” He called three assistants and they all ran to you carrying the outfits on the page. There were blouses, pants, skirts, dresses, hats, shoes, and scarves. They held them up for you to look at, they held them against you to see how it looked. If you said you liked it, they set it aside on a rack, if not they took it away.
             They did this a few times and Kihyun looked highly entertained. He’d gotten a call, you assumed from his company, but even while on the phone, he smiled to you when he liked an outfit then frowned if he didn’t. When he got off the phone, he said something to Wonho, which made the bigger man grin widely. He motioned for you to come to him.
             You excused yourself from the assistants and walked to him.
             He was stuffing the phone in his pocket. “I have to go.”
             That made you feel anxious again. What if the store turned on you once he left?
             Seeing your expression, Kihyun used a finger to lift your chin so you’d look at him. “You’ll be fine. They won’t be mean.” He opened his wallet and handed you a black credit card. “This shouldn’t give you any problems, but if it does, have them call the hotel.”
             Giving a small nod to show you could do this, Kihyun grabbed your chin again. “They won’t be mean.” The power in his gaze made your knees go a bit weak. He backed away and looked at Wonho. “She has my credit card.”
             “And we’ll help her use it, sir.”
             After Kihyun was out the door, Wonho smiled warmly at you and directed your attention to the rack of clothes you’d picked out. “Would you like to try them on?”
             You nodded shyly. Wonho motioned for the assistants to help you in the dressing room. It was hard to recognize yourself in each outfit. Even when you weren’t prowling the street corner, your usual look was jeans and a t-shirt. With these outfits you felt expensive, almost like royalty. When you’d chosen which ones were keepers and which ones could go back, they put you back in the chair and brought you a brand-new binder to look through.
             While the assistants were finding the new batch of outfits, your eyes drifted to a wall of ties. A black tie with ribbons of blue caught your eye. “Wonho, can I see that?”
             He quickly motioned for another assistant to grab it for him. They brought it to you so you could look at it better. The ribbons of blue were almost cyan, which really popped against the black. They looked like waves and at the bottom formed what looked like a shark. Kihyun would love this tie. In a way, he was like a shark.
             “I want to get this. I want to buy it for Kihyun.”
             “Yes, ma’am.” Wonho added it to your growing pile of “yes” attire.
             When you started to feel exhausted from trying on clothes, Wonho offered to get lunch. His assistants also took you to the lingerie area of the store. This made you feel excited both because you could pick out something to wow Kihyun with as well as get things that would be useful when you were back to your normal life of turning tricks. You might even be able to up your price dressed in some of the items.
             Having looked through all the binders and around the store, you finished shopping. It took Wonho and his assistants almost ten minutes to ring everything up and bag it all. You were now worried about how you’d carry it all back to the Baverse.
             Catching your expression, Wonho cleared his throat. “We could have it all sent to your hotel, ma’am.”
             “Really?”
             His grin got bigger. “Of course.”
             Looking down at your clothes, you looked back to him. “Could I wear one of the outfits out?”
             “Certainly, was there any you had in mind?”
             You just wanted to be fully out of the streetwalker apparel. Wasn’t there a particular outfit that caught your eye?
             Realizing your distress, Wonho cleared his throat again. “Might I make a suggestion?”
             Thankful, you nodded.
             The large man pulled out a tight purple dress. It went below the knee, but you remember when you had it on, it fit snuggly. He also took out a matching cardigan. “The dress is one of my favorites in the store. I was so pleased when you chose it. The jacket makes it business, but without, it’s Michelle Obama.”
             Smiling and thanking him, you went back to the dressing room. When you came out you felt powerful, like you were Michelle Obama.
             One of the assistants opened a bag for you to put your old clothes in. Another handed you a purse that matched the dress. You’d left your bag at the hotel, and the only thing you had to carry was Kihyun’s credit card, however, it did somehow complete the look.
             After assuring you that everything would make it to the hotel safely, Wonho and the assistants thanked you, and you them. There was still some daylight, and you knew Kihyun would be at his company longer. Part of you wanted to walk back to the stores that refused you, to show them how very much they fucked up when rejecting you. Instead you found yourself going back into the store Minhyuk worked at.
             You found him dressing a mannequin. He looked up when he heard the tapping of your heels.
             “Queen!” he beamed at you. “Look at you, very boss bitch!”
             Giggling, he took your hand to spin you around and check you out.
             “Better luck shopping today then?”
             “Yeah, my uh, ‘uncle’ is very persuasive.”
             He chuckled to that. “I see. Well, you look amazing. I’m sure you’re also quite persuasive.”
             Giving a shy smile you thanked him.
             “Are you just here to say ‘hi’ or were you planning on doing more shopping?”
             Actually, you hadn’t really planned on coming in. Your feet just brought you here. Then the tie you got for Kihyun came to mind. “Do you remember that bright blue dress I tried on yesterday? It was kind of sheer?”
             “The chiffon, floor length, yes!”
             “Could I see it again?”
             “Most definitely!” He offered his arm to escort you back upstairs. Finding it right away, he handed it to you and pushed you in the dressing room. When you came out, he already had shoes and accessories picked out for it. He also got to work on styling your hair in a different way.
            The dress had thin straps. The front of the bodice looked like the fabric was zigzagging outward. The rest of the dress flowed out and felt light.
             You weren’t sure if you’d actually get to wear the dress, but you liked the idea of having something to match Kihyun.
             “Another handful of cash today?”
             “Nope, I have his credit card today!” You handed him the black card.
             Minhyuk read the name on the card and his mouth fell open. “Kihyun Yoo is the ‘uncle’?”
             Nodding slowly, you weren’t sure if his response was good or bad.
             “Boss bitch, indeed.”
             That made you laugh, and he laughed with you. He rang you up and accepted a hug. Before you left he handed you a card with his number written on it in case you ever needed a friend for a coffee date.
             If you weren’t going back to Hollywood Boulevard at the end of the week, you thought you and Minhyuk could be great friends.
             Back at the Baverse, heads turned upon your arrival. It was hard getting used to being the center of attention when you were not aiming to get clients.
             Changkyun saw you and walked to your side, smiling. “A large delivery of clothing arrived for you. I took the liberty of putting it in your room.”
             “Thank you, Changkyun.”
             “Also, I wanted to thank you for whatever you said to Mr. Yoo, though you didn’t need to.”
             “I only told him the truth.”
             “I take it dinner went well then?”
             Your cheeks felt warm again. “There was a small incident involving the chopsticks and an octopus leg, but otherwise yes.”
             Smiling more, he tried to politely hide his laugh as Jooheon and Hyunwoo did the night before. He wished you a good day and you headed back up to the penthouse.
            Getting back into the room, you looked over all the clothing bags and boxes. Perhaps you went overboard. There were only 4 more days to your arrangement. You couldn’t possibly wear all of these things. However, in the initial proposal, Kihyun had said you’d be going to parties, dinners, and other events. Not being of this world, you didn’t know what kinds of outfits were needed for each. So if anything, you were well prepared for everything.
            You’d managed to fit everything in the closet. All that remained was the box with the tie you’d gotten for Kihyun. A smile crept over your face as an idea occurred to you.
            Calling down to room service, you asked if they could come set your dining room table for a romantic dinner for two.
            In a matter of minutes, someone came up to set the table. The table was covered with a table cloth, candles, and dishware. There was a multitude of silverware at each setting, which you weren’t sure what to make of, but assumed Kihyun wouldn’t mind. Shortly after that, the food you requested arrived. You left the metal lids over each plate, no entirely sure of Kihyun’s exact arrival.
             To finish your plan, you stripped down to nothing and put on Kihyun’s tie. The makeup Minhyuk helped you with still looked good, and you tied your hair up so nothing would distract from the tie. The look was completed with a pair of heels.
             Waiting for Kihyun, you sat on a chair with the tie thrown over your shoulder. Romantic instrumental music played as you waited. When you heard him at the door, you lifted your legs, crossed, on the corner of the table. He walked in with a briefcase in hand.
             “How was your day, dear?” You seductively pulled the tie down in front of your chest.
             Kihyun’s eyes were wide with shock and his mouth fell slack. He stared at you for a long minute. “Nice tie.”
             “I got it for you.”
             Still staring, it took him a moment to collect himself. He dropped the briefcase and walked over to you. He lifted the tie and looked it over carefully, though it didn’t escape your attention that he also looked at your naked body. “A shark.”
             “Like you,” you beamed.
             His face fell to that.
             You didn’t mean to upset him. “Are you okay?”
             “It was a difficult day at work.”
             Hyunwoo and Jooheon weren’t going down without a fight, you assumed. “I can help you relax.”
             His thumb brushed across your bottom lip. “I’ve no doubt you can.”
             That made you shiver. Not kissing on the mouth kept the emotions out of turning tricks, kept you in control. No one ever bothered to touch your lips once the rule was stated. Kihyun never played the typical Trick games however. Shaking your head to focus on the moment, you stood up, leaving very little space between the two of you.
             “What if we take a bath? The hot water can help you unwind. I can give you a neck and shoulder massage.”
             Tie still in hand, he looked down at it, unable to meet your eye. “Sure. We can eat while the tub fills.”
             You prepared the tub while Kihyun took off a few layers of his suit. He helped you into the robe so you could eat comfortably.
             The meal was a quiet event and when it was finished, the tub was ready. Both fully undressed, Kihyun helped you into the tube first.
             Standing in the water, you held his hand as he stepped in. He helped you lower to sit, then sat in front of you. You leaned against the tub as he leaned against you.
             The plan was to give him a shoulder massage, but as he leaned against you, his body moved until it was if he was laying and his head rested on your chest. Changing the plan, you lifted a soft sponge from the toiletry basket and dipped it in the water. You then began soaking his skin with it, rubbing his arms, neck, and chest.
             He visibly relaxed, his eyes closing as the warmth from the water and your ministrations took over.
             Knowing he wouldn’t be fully relaxed if his mind was full, you decided to speak up. “Do you want to talk about work?”
             “No.” It was frustrating that he was grumpy. Maybe if you tried a different tactic.
             “What did you do before you started Starship Enterprises?”
             He was caught off guard by the question. His eyes opened and his hands wandered to your legs on either side of him.
             “I used to be an idol.”
             “An idol? Like a god?”
             He chuckled to that. “Don’t Americans have that show with Simon Cowell? American Idol?”
             “Oh. So you were a singer.”
             “And a performer.”
             “What was that like?”
             He sighed and traced designs along your knee. “Training to be an idol took years. Musicians in Korea do much more than the ones here. We can’t just sing, but we need to dance while singing, which requires breathing techniques. There’s skill in singing, as well as dancing, but we have to master doing both together.”
             “Wow,” you brought the sponge to his chest.
             He sighed. “I used to love singing. I sang all the time. I sang at my mom’s church. Even before I began training as an idol, I would perform outside. We call it busking.”
             You continued scrubbing him with the sponge as you listened.
             “I actually used to perform a few English songs before I signed with a company.”
             “Oo, anything I would know?”
             He started singing a Jason Mraz song which you recognized. His voice was so clear. It was beautiful.
             Even sitting is steaming hot water, goosebumps trickled up your arms.
             Kihyun noticed you’d stopped moving as you listened. He reached for your hands to move the sponge along his body again.
             “You’re so good. Why aren’t you still doing this now?”
             Another sigh escaped him as you added soap to the sponge to wash him. “I was in a group, and we debuted, but the company was small and we weren’t picking up enough fans. So, when rumors of our members arose, it created scandals and we couldn’t recover.”
             “But if they were just rumors, why would that matter? We have celebrities who are actually assholes, and they still make music and movies.”
             His hands went back to your legs as you took care of him. “I love my country, but she is very unforgiving. Even if a rumor is proven as false, the damage has already been done to your reputation, and people will deem you as trash.”
             “That’s harsh.”
             “Way of the industry.”
             “Is that when you started your current company?”
             “I tried to make it as a solo artist, but I wasn’t very established, and a lot of Korean solo acts are rappers or take their shirts off a lot.”
             That made you chuckle as you began rinsing the soap off Kihyun.
             “Another solo artist who was in the same company as me also got caught in a scandal, and to save face the company dropped him. Both of us held a lot of anger and resentment and came up with Starship Enterprises. We bought out our former company and took it down, selling off the remaining artists.”
             “So, you got even. That must have made you happy.”
             He didn’t answer you, but instead lifted your hands and began playing with them.
             Still feeling the tension, you knew what would finally get him to relax. Leaning forward you whispered in his ear. “Sit up.”
             Letting go of your hands, he pushed himself up straighter so his back pressed against your chest.
             In the new position you were able to reach his groin. Your hand slipped down between his legs until you cupped his balls. Your fingertips pressed against the sensitive skin under his prostate.
             Kihyun gasped when you added pressure and started circling the area.
             “It’s okay,” you whispered again. “Relax into it.” With your free hand you grabbed at his pec, using your nails to dig into his skin lightly.
             He shuddered under your touch. When he got hard, you gave his balls a light squeeze then moved your hand to his shaft. Your grip was firm as you slowly stroked upward. Stopping before touching the head, you moved your hand back down the shaft. Again, you took your time to caress upward and avoid the head, but whenyou stroked down, you moved your hand in a twisting motion.
             Kihyun whined, which made you smile. You gave his pec a squeeze and twisted your hand around his girth upward. “Please,” he breathed.
             “Mmm?” You nibbled on his ear.
             “Touch me more,” he whimpered, shaking as your stroked him downward.
             Liking having control and teasing him, you released his shaft and cupped his balls again, giving them a solid press.
             His moan was loud. One of his hands lifted and rested on yours against his chest. The other wildly reached against the tub until he hit a button, making the water drain. He then used that hand to grab your wrist as you again pressed your fingertips in circles on his perineum. Lifting your hand from the area, he moved it so your palm was over the head of his penis. “Please,” he begged again. His hand then gripped your thigh.
             Smiling, you nipped at his shoulder, but used your palm to make circular motions against him.
             He groaned louder, his head falling back on your shoulder.
             Kissing his shoulder, you moved your hand to grip him again and move once again down his shaft, only this time as your moved back up, you included stroking his head and lingered your touch on his sensitive skin.
             As you worked faster with your ministrations his legs began shaking, his moans becoming more frequent and higher in volume.
             “I’m close,” he cried out. He squeezed his hands around your hand at his chest and your thigh.
             You moved your grasp to the top of his penis with your thumb stroking the head in circles.
             Kihyun let out a breathy cry as he finally came, ejaculating on his stomach as he leaned back against you. “Fuck,” he sighed. He relaxed against you, panting.
             You moved your hands so both were pushing against his chest, almost hugging him into you. “Good, no?”
             His eyes were closed as his head rested on your shoulder, but he nodded.
             Your chin rested on his shoulder as you looked at his cum glistening on his stomach. “Smart move draining the tub.
             Smiling, he kept his eyes closed while continuing to take deep breathes. “Since there’s no condom, I didn’t want to get any on you.”
             Eyeing the showerhead at the foot of the tub, you suggested rinsing him off. He agreed but needed another minute to catch his breath.
             Turning his head to face you, he looked vulnerable. It tugged at your heart, since you’d only seen cockiness and power from his gaze.
             “I forgot to tell you. We’re going to a yacht party tonight.”
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atlanticcanada · 11 months
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N.S. wildfire evacuees find comfort in one another and the generosity of their community
Evacuees at the Sandy Wickens Memorial Arena in Barrington, N.S., are out of the fire zone but now face their own battle — how to cope with so much uncertainty, and what lies ahead.
“I’m terrified to the bones that we lose our house ,but until now, it’s OK,” said Julie Jeschke, who left her home in Cape Negro in a rush Sunday.
“We hope and pray for rain,” she said.
The evacuees who’ve been turning to the arena for food, clothing or conversation are as young as 5-years-old-and as old as 99. Donald Stocker falls into the latter category.
Fire forced the 99-year-old out of his home in Port LaTour. His positive attitude has brought a lot of inspiration to other evacuees.
“Keep up hope that everything turns out okay,” Stocker said.
Sadly, many people like Paul Locke already know of his new reality. His home is gone.
“My wife -- she’s not taking it too good. I have days that I haven’t been taking it very good either,” Locke said. “My nerves are getting bad.”
Roger Atwood, who’s also an evacuee, took Locke and his wife in at the home where they’re staying.
“I found he didn’t have anywhere to stay so I went and got home, took him with us,” Atwood said.
He was home when the fire was on the move.
“It sounded like a freight train. It’s just roaring,” he said.
Atwood has since seen pictures of his home and heard water was dropped on it – but doesn’t know much else.
CTV News asked him what keeps him going.
“Hopes, the wife, other people,” Atwood said. “I cry a lot. Can’t help it.”
In many spots, homes still stand. Police escorted paramedic Paula Sutherland from Barrington to her home in Clyde River.
“Homes are safe on the 103. People that I know, I’ve already messaged them and told them and sent them pictures of their homes,” Sutherland said. “Past my house, I can’t answer that, I don’t know.”
She praised the firefighters.
“The strength that they have to save our houses is unbelievable,” she said.
The Sandy Wickens Memorial Arena is full of donated food and clothing. It has also offered evacuees a lot of comfort at a time of need.
Shaun Hatfield, a councillor with the Municipality of Barrington and a minister, said the arena is a metaphor of human love.
“The community has wide-open hands. There’s nothing that anyone needs here that if they ask for it, it’s not theirs, and I’m talking about everything from homes to wallets to material resources, whatever a neighbour needs, it’s given freely with an open hand,” Hatfield said.
“People are so giving. Walmart has given, given and given. Sobeys. No Frills. It’s just too many to name that have given,” said Sutherland.
“Restaurants. People walking in here with food, bags of food, bags of clothing.”
from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/vZqpSdI
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capsensislagamoprh · 2 months
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Victor stood in his new skin, the tightness of it chaffing. He stood in a rather small set of chambers, though he was aware they were part of a larger tower. Then he was told the chambers were the whole of his private domain. He owned it though, and that was an advantage.
Lilia went to her mortal studio, ready to get back into things. The way she said this made Christoph raise a brow, his lips pursed as if sipping the finest tea. Christoph himself had left to another location, hoping to spread the net, he said. As the real was quite a bit bigger than his new, annoying mortal limitations allowed, Victor couldn't do more than agree. Fortunately, he'd help him set up the 'modern conveniences', teaching him how to work small devices, how food and drink worked here. Victor had a great time at the food shop, admiring how the many shaped fruits lay there, waiting to be plucked and devoured. It was nice not to have servants chase down his fuel.
And yet again, another change. His guards were spread across the globe now, posing in various positions, looking for the missing fey. He had to tend to himself. He was given an account with a sizeable fund, a large purse of dross to tide him over until he could start to gather glamour on his own. He'd been given a list of mortal dos and don'ts.
Do: Mix one teaspoon of honey into a tall glass of milk to make it palatable. You may add this mixture to tea for a creamy drink. Don't: Try this with coffee. Use cinnamon.
Do: Remember the rule of gifts still applies to fey, but not to mortals. This is their realm. Make them shake on it. Don't: Forget to get a verbal agreement.
Do: Indulge in the refined repast of those with culinary gifts at least once a month. The dreams of these artists can be more filling than the complements they receive. Don't: Consume the food or drink from shadow places, or overly bright ones. These places are poison to the soul.
Do: Turn yourself with the seasons, which come must faster than they appear. Learn to celebrate the holidays with in, as they will be a great source of glamour. Don't: Dance with a stranger in a strange place. These are often traps set by mortals to hunt you beauty and resources with the insidiousness of human laws and courtly ways.
Do: Always tell law enforcement your full name. Don't: Forget to make sure they are real law enforcement, and ask to call a lawyer immediately. You are a well connected man, Mr. Nikiforov. They will not understand your title, but they will understand your gold.
Do: Explore your surroundings. Don't: Never stray from a well known place with out escort or proven route. Nefarious bearings hunt, and you are prized prey.
Do: Use your manners, but don't say "thank you" (or you owe them). Don't: Let them say 'you'll get me next time'. They will. With interest.
Do: Dress with flair. Don't: Wear cheap clothing. You need to keep your appearance regal, or you will lose standing.
Do: Always keep your word. Don't: Know everyone else is looking to break theirs.
Do: Know you have support. Don't: Repay more than you borrowed. Do: Call it rubles, not gold. Don't: Tell anyone how much you have. Humans make a weird (often deadly) game of 'most'.
It was all so much. Not fun, extravagant, delightfully decadent to much. Overwhelming, spine tightening, teeth grindingly to much. He needs to find an outlet. He needs to ... to what? He was here for a reason, and that reason has to be his focus. How was he going to do that with all these mortal limitations?
It was one thing to walk people's dreams and see where the Hero might be, then use his anchor to find Yuri, but that only worked in a specific range outside the dream, and he knew the Hero wasn't in the building. He'd already put that effort in. He needed to find a battle. Some place where down trodden gathered, dreaming of the stuff the Hero was made of. He needed a seer.
Picking up the phone, he called Lady Baranovskay.
"You were to be at the studio three hours ago. I have no time for this nonsense, Yakov!" she said by way of greeting.
"I am not Yakov?" It sounded like a good retort in his head, despite the blatant curiosity his tone conveyed.
"Ah. Victor," she purred like a predator. "You will come to the studio tomorrow at five am precisely. We will begin."
Trust Lilia to have things in order. "Very well. And this studio is where?" A bitter huff blew thrugh the line. "I will send you the address. You will come. Do. Not. Be late."
"Yes, lady Baranovskay."
"Madame."
"I'm sorry?"
"Yes, but not for long. I will mold you into someone worthy of this mission. You will excel. Five am, Victor."
"Do I need to bring anything?"
"No. I will have a bag prepared for you. It will have your basics. You may expand on it later."
"Alright. And the seer?"
"Seer?"
"Yes. I require a seer to help find the Hero so that I -"
"Can find Yuri. Yes. I will ask Kenjiro to help. You will owe him."
"I will?"
"You're the one who wants a seer. You will pay him."
"I... will pay him."
"Good. And no carbs!" The phone shut the call down. Perhaps out of terror. Victor stared at the thing, then began to push buttons. It took him a while to figure out what the basic features did, but soon he was able to find joy in the weird shapes and interactive messages. These many people had no idea who he was, and they were eager to pretend.
It was enough to give him fuel. He would ride that well fed high until five am, which was blessedly hours away.
part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9
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i-cant-sing · 3 years
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I'm in love with the idea of baby reader destroying the Zenin patriarchy one zoomie at a time. Imagine baby reader at dinner time asking where the twins' mom is and why she can't be at the table with the rest of them, and Naoya giving that poor excuse that women aren't allowed there. So baby reader is just like "I want to go eat with her!" And after arguing for about the whole duration of dinner, and after baby reader threatened to not eat anything, Naoya begrudgingly lets her go to where the women eat. He's like "whatever" at first, but then the chubby cheek withdrawal starts kicking in, so he's like "screw this" and goes eat with baby reader. Everyone else at the table is shaking their heads at him, but after a couple minutes, they start making up excuses to join baby reader.
"Oh, I should go make sure y/n is safe."
"I need to ensure y/n is eating healthy."
"I... need to make sure y/n breathes properly!" - the grandpa probably
Hmmmm yessssss. Okay let me set the scene for yall:
Its dinner time, and baby Fushiguro is escorted to the table by a maid. All the men are already sitting there, and you take your seat by Uncle Naoya.
The servants are bringing in the food as Naoya makes small talk with you, asking about your day. You tell him you were playing with Aunty Zenin (aka Zenin twins mom) and Naoya nods.
"Where's Aunty Zenin?" you ask Naoya who begins eating.
"In the other dinning room. With the other ladies."
"Why?"
The table falls into silence. Why? The men thought. The answer was always clear, but now that you've voiced the question, they don't know how to explain it to a child without sounding... mean.
How are they supposed to tell you that they don't think their women deserved to eat with them?
"Just eat your food, Y/n." Naoya tried to dismiss you.
"No. I wanna eat with the girls!"
"No. Now eat."
"But Aunty Zenin is there and-"
Naoya slammed his chopsticks on the table, making you jump. He turned towards you, staring you down. "I'm warning you for the last time, Y/n. You're not going to the other dining hall. You're going to eat here with us. Do I make myself clear?"
Naoya used his mean voice with you, the one he usually uses with servants, but rarely with you.
He and the men watched as your mouth formed into a pout and you looked down at your hands, and they could see your eyes get a little watery. But you were Toji's daughter, stubborn as hell, they noticed as you still didn't touch your dinner.
"Y/n. Eat your food." Ranta Zenin, the more soft spoken of the Zenin men tried.
You sniffled. "M' not hungry."
Your stomach growled loudly at that. Making the men smile a bit. At least you had a big appetite like them.
But Naoya was losing patience. "Y/n-"
"You can go." Naobito said, drinking his wine.
"What-"
"You." Naobito called the maid. "Take Y/n to the ladies dining." The maid nodded and held out a hand for you, but you quickly went to Naobito first and kissed his cheek, thanking him, making the older man laugh and pat your head. Taking the maid's hand, you left the room, but not before sticking out your tongue at Naoya, who had a death grip on his chopsticks.
"Why did you let her leave?" Naoya asked, mad that his father had undermined him in front of you.
Naobito only hummed as he sipped his wine. "If you didn't let her go, she would continue to pester you until you did. Its better if she goes now, let her get it out of her system, and she'll come back on her own."
That was what Naobito thought, as did his brothers. Naoya soon realised what his father meant. You'll come back on your own once you realise how bad it was with those soulless women.
But then you didn't join them for breakfast the next day. Or lunch. Or dinner. Maybe you'll come back after the day. But then one day turned into two, then three, then four.
By the sixth day, they were all on the edge. They all missed you, especially the older men since meal time was often the only time they got to spend with you. At least Naoya and Ranta got to be with you when they trained you.
What exactly was happening in that dinning hall for you to not come to them?
"I'm going to take a nap." Naobito said, after only taking a few swigs of his wine. "A little tired today. Enjoy lunch." He said, bidding farewell to the men.
After a few minutes, Ogi Zenin stood up, clearing his throat. "Ugh. The food tastes disgusting. I'm leaving." And the food did tasteless, all because of your absence.
Soon, Jinchi Zenin also left the room, excusing himself that he's got stuff do.
Now, it was just Naoya and Ranta, the latter smirking at the former.
"What are you smiling about?" Naoya asked, agitated.
"You miss her, don't you?" Ranta said, popping another piece of sashimi in his mouth.
"No, I don't. Shut up."
"Alright, if that's what you say, I'll believe you." Ranta said before standing up. "I don't know why you would lie to yourself though. There's no shame in missing Y/n. I mean, I miss her, your father and uncles miss her, you miss her,"
Naobito looked up from his plate, confused. "What do you mean they miss her? And stop saying I miss her. I don't."
Ranta began walking towards the door. "Oh really? Well, where do you think they all are now?"
Naoya frowned at him. He didn't mean- he didn't mean there in the dining room down the hall, did he?
Naoya stood up but Ranta stopped him. "Oh where are you going? I thought you didn't miss her."
"Shut up." Naoya pushed him out of the way and practically sprinted down the hall to the dinning room.
Sliding the door open, he was shocked to see everyone, EVERYONE from the Zenin clan in the room. His uncles were sitting next to their wives, Naobito was sitting in the head chair, drinking his wine and you were sitting in Aunty Zenin's lap, telling her a story you had heard from Naobito.
As it turned out, the ladies dinning room was far more fun than the men's. The women who already loved you, thought you were dumped by their men to their dinning hall. So, they made sure to make you laugh and play with you and tell you stories and do your hair, heart melting at your adorable face. Not to mention, they let you do zoomies in the dinning room.
Before you came along, the women like their husbands, would usually just eat in silence and the entire aura of the room was dark and gloomy. But with you, it was like a firecracker of happiness had went off in the room, lighting anywhere you went with you jolly and carefree nature.
As Naoya stood at the door, feeling betrayed that he was the last one to come while the others were enjoying their time with you. Without a care, Naoya went and plucked you off Aunty Zenin's lap, lifting you up in the air.
The room fell silent as they watched you recognise Naoya and struggle to get out of his hands. Clearly, you were still mad at him.
"Let go!" You said, wriggling in his huge hands.
"Why? Are you still mad at me?" Naoya asked, eyes sharp but a playful glint in them.
"Yes! Let go!"
"Hm, no. But I have a way to fix that." Naoya said, grinning evilly before tickling your sides.
You immediately went into a fit of laughter, telling him to stop.
"L-let go! St-stupid Uncle N-aoya! LET GO HAHAHAHAHA-!"you continued laughing.
"Are you still mad at me?"
"Yes!" Naoya continued tickling you, smiling at the way you were getting red.
In the middle of laughing and trying to escape him, your hands managed to catch Naoya's hair, and you tugged hard, making him finally stop.
"Stop! Fine, I'm not mad at you anymore." You said, trying to catch your breath.
Naoya smiled, rubbing his scalp where'd you tugged his hair. "Good." He said, before kissing your fat, chubby cheeks.
God, he missed them.
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2K notes · View notes
animeomegas · 3 years
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Omega!Bakugou headcanons
Anon: Pssssss imma need some more omega Bakugou like now no it make him jealous too because why not
AND
Anon: hi! could you do some omega!bakugou x male alpha!reader? nsfw and sfw pls <3
nesting too pls!! idk why but I love the idea of nesting sjdjsnd, pregnant bakugou fluff would be lovely too <3
AND
Anon: Hi I was wonder if you could do omega Bakugou sfw and nsfw please 🥺
(Hey, everyone!! Bakugou is very popular in my inbox! Okay, let’s write some omega!Bakugou headcanons <3 I have another request for pregnant!Bakugou, so I’ll add that part of the middle request to another post 😊 Also, I only write for a gender neutral reader. I hope you all enjoy~)
Warnings: N-sfw under a cut, suggestive behaviour multiple times not under the cut.
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Nesting:
Bakugou is not an omega who is big on nesting. He does nest and he’s very proud of his nest, but he doesn’t feel the urge to nest super often.
He doesn’t keep a permanent, all year-round nest, he’s kind of a clean freak so having to constantly clean all the blankets in his nest would drive his nuts.
He does nest during his heat and late term pregnancy, and also after periods of extreme stress, but not often outside of these times.
But if he knows his alpha likes his nests, he might build them for his alpha when they’re stressed, although he’ll claim he just felt like making it and it shouldn’t go to waste.
It’s not a very convincing lie.
His nest is not in a very popular style, mainly because Bakugou overheats so easily.
It’s a simple double mattress on a very low frame, with a couple of pillows and sheet like blankets that he normally uses as a base rather than a covering.
He has a black and red colour scheme that he thinks is the coolest thing ever, and he definitely has an All Might pillow hidden somewhere at the back that he threatens his alpha to keep a secret, it’s very cute.
He likes his nest to be in an easily defendable position, whether that be inside a large cupboard or wardrobe, or a small room with one door and a small window.
Bakugou also keeps a mini fridge by his nest, as a lot of omegas do, to store water and food, but what he has that a lot of omegas don’t, is a mini freezer too.
He keeps ice packs and ice lollies in there to help when he’s in heat because his temperature tends to get way too high.
Bakugou doesn’t like being vulnerable, so his nest is a sensitive topic for him.
It takes him quite a while to let his alpha into his nest, but he’s quicker to let them chill outside of it, holding his hand and keeping him company. He would probably let them outside his nest after courting for a year and knowing them for at least two years. When he lets them inside depends on a lot of factors, including how well they deal with him from the outside of his nest. It could be anywhere from three months to another year.
Pups:
Bakugou has always wanted some pups, but in a removed and distant kind of way. After all, becoming the No. 1 hero was far more important than any of that ‘family’ nonsense.
He only really considers pups when he’s in a very committed relationship and at a comfortable place in his career. He’s not prepared to take time off at a vulnerable career moment, after all.
Bakugou wants two children, because, while he would never admit it, he always wished he had a sibling when he was a kid, so he wants to give that to his children.
But he’s very conflicted about it.
Firstly, two pregnancy leaves would be a huge blow to his career. Prime hero years and prime ‘having children years’ are the same years, so in a way, he has to decide how to balance these two priorities. He isn’t sure he wants to risk his career with that much leave so close together (heroes can’t be in the field while pregnant at all, so it would be a huge sacrifice.)
Secondly, he’s nervous about how useless he would likely feel while pregnant. He’s a workaholic and being confined to his house and losing control over his quirk would drive him nuts.
So, he doesn’t really know what to do. He doesn’t share any of his concerns with his alpha, but he does take their wishes into account too. If his alpha really wants two children, Bakugou does keep that in mind. But he’s not a push over. If he decides that two maternity leaves are too many, then it’s too many. It’s his body and he won’t let anyone tell him otherwise.
So, with all this in mind, Bakugou is fucking thrilled when he finds out he’s having twins.
Two pups for the price of one pregnancy leave?? Sign him the hell up!
Bakugou has twin boys, both alphas, and Bakugou just cannot believe his luck that all his problems just fixed themselves.
“But I don’t want to go!” came a defiant voice from the back seat of the car. Both you and Bakugou sighed, not keen on restarting the disagreement that had plagued the household for the entire morning. It had taken twice as long as normal this morning to get the twins dressed and in the car because of this very argument.
You could see Bakugou about to open his mouth to tell him that they had to, but you held up a hand to stop him.
“Why don’t you want to go, sweetheart?” you cooed at your oldest son.
“I don’t want you and daddy to leave…” whimpered your youngest son, answering in his brother’s stead.
Bakugou winced and reached a hand into the back and squeezed each of his son’s hands in turn.
“I know.” He said simply. You could feel his guilt, even though you both knew it was the best for all of you that the twins get used to nursery so that both you and Bakugou could go back to focusing on your careers. They would be fine, you tried to convince yourself. Millions of kids do this every year and it works out fine.
The nursery came into view, and you refocused your attention onto finding a parking space in the little car park on the side of the building. You could hear your sons shifting anxiously in the back and it pulled at your heart strings. You pulled into an empty space and turned off the engine. You and Bakugou shared a single look before moving to get your children out of the car with practiced ease.
“No,” your eldest son shouted. “I’m not going to go. I’m staying here!”
You had tried to take him out of the car seat, but he had refused to cooperate. You didn’t want to pull him out in case you hurt him. Bakugou came to stand behind you, your youngest son clutching his neck desperately.
“Let me talk to him,” he spoke softly, handing the younger twin over into your arms.
“Hey,” Bakugou said softly, leaning down to peer inside the car where his eldest son stubbornly sat with his arms crossed. “It’s okay to be scared to go to nursery, you know.”
Your oldest son visibly flinched and avoided looking at Bakugou in the eyes.
“I’m not scared, daddy. I just don’t want to.”
“Uh huh,” Bakugou said, eyebrow raised.
“I’m not!” Your son exploded. When he realised that he’d just shouted at his father, the colour drained from his face and his bottom lip started to quiver. Bakugou wordlessly held out his arms and his eldest son accepted the embrace just in time to burst into heavy tears on Bakugou’s shoulder.
“It’s alright,” Bakugou hushed. “I’m not angry at you.”
In your arms, your youngest son was watching his brother cry and letting out little whimpers into your neck. You rubbed his back soothingly and whispered that everything was going to okay.
Out of the corner of your eye, you realised another parent was staring judgementally at your family. Bakugou clearly also noticed because he bared his teeth as a warning and the parent quickly moved on. You scoffed at the idiot who thought it was a good idea to antagonise an omega who was looking after a distraught pup, let alone when said omega was a top ten hero.
“W-What if they don’t l-like me?” your eldest whimpered out.
“Here,” Bakugou wiped some of the tears away with his thumb. “How about this, you tell me if anyone is mean to you and I’ll sort it out, how does that sound?”
“But…” your son hesitated. “But what will you do?”
Bakugou grinned.
“I’ll make their parents regret doing such a shitty job at parenting.”
You gasped, halfway between scandalised and amused.
“Katsuki!” you reprimanded and smacked his lightly on the shoulder.
It did seem to cheer up your sons, though, who were now giggling at your antics.
“Daddy said a bad word,” your youngest twin giggled to you.
“He did,” you pressed your lips together. “And it was very naughty of him.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes and instead placed the pup in his arms on the floor, taking him by the hand. You did the same and slowly, you both made your way toward the school gate. The mood dropped, but neither of your children tried to resist.
You could see a teacher standing at the gate to escort the new students and you made your way over.
“Remember,” Bakugou said before you reached the gate, stopping you all for a moment. “We’ll be back in this many hours,” he held up three fingers. “Can you guys tell me how many this is?”
“One… two… three…” they both said together.
“That’s right! See? You guys are going to be the smartest ones in there,” Bakugou boasted, ruffling their hair.
“Careful,” you teased. “They’ll turn into you.”
“Are you saying I’m always the smartest person in the room?” Bakugou grinned back.
“No, I’m saying you always think you’re the smartest person in the room.”
“Oi!” he growled, knocking his shoulder with yours. The pups giggled again, seeming to be in higher spirits. You escorted them to the gate at the front of the playground and let the teacher introduce herself.
And with one final goodbye, your pups were off into the nursery and out of sight.
You and Bakugou walked to the car in silence, digesting what had happened and processing that your little ones were now old enough for nursery. You both slipped back into the car and began the drive home.
It was weird to think that your children were neither with you, nor at home waiting for you, but that kind of existential deep dive could wait until later.
Bakugou’s hand settled just a little bit too high on your thigh. For the moment, it was time to appreciate the novelty of an empty house.
 Jealously:
I don’t think anyone would be very surprised to find out that Bakugou can get quite jealous on occasion.
In the early days of your relationship, he’s very nervous that his alpha is going to find a ‘better’ omega, an omega who is more traditional, and leave him for them. It takes a lot of bravery for him to leave himself vulnerable to being abandoned, and occasionally the insecurities seep through.
He hates the whiny, simpering omegas that plaster themselves onto the nearest alpha, and it makes him furious to see anyone doing that to you.
He has no subtlety, no brooding angst, he just threatens the other omega(s) away to their face, and then drags you somewhere private to cover you in his scent.
Later in the relationship, things change. He’s extremely confident that his alpha is his. Why would they ever leave him? He’s the best fucking omega ever!
Instead, he gets jealous if he isn’t getting enough attention because you’re spending too much time with someone else.
He doesn’t do this in a possessive way, it’s just that he doesn’t get a whole lot of free time and when his alpha spends that free time with someone else? Another omega? He’s pissed.
He gets surly and passive aggressive about it, and it’s extremely obvious.
The best way to fix it is to just give him lots of attention, he won’t behave like this is you have to leave for something important (he understands duty like the best of them), so it’s very easy to address.
Bakugou idly stirred a pot of miso soup as the radio in the kitchen blasted out whatever awful top 40 song it had picked this morning. He had only put it on to fill the silence really, which was the only thing this awful excuse for music was good for in his opinion.
He was making breakfast for the two of you as a kind of mini celebration. He had two days off in a row, the first time in a couple of months because of his crazy work schedule and he wanted to make sure he spent every moment that he could with his alpha. And so, here he was, getting up early to prepare breakfast for your both.
There was a lull in noise as the radio switched between songs, and in the few moments of silence, Bakugou could hear shuffling coming from the bathroom. He grinned. Perfect timing.
He put down the last plate and waited for you to come out, you should be here any second now.
 Fiddling with your shirt one last time you swung open your bedroom door, bag on your shoulder, finally ready to leave. You were interrupted momentarily by a delicious scent in the air. Bakugou must be cooking, so you followed the smell to the kitchen and walked in to say goodbye to him, vaguely sad that you were going to be missing his food, but he was probably only making himself something to bring to work, anyway.
And then you saw the elaborate breakfast spread your heart stopped. Had you forgotten an anniversary? Bakugou looked just as shocked to see you dressed up and ready to leave. However, his shock soon melts into frustration.
“Why are you all dressed up?” he growled, the excitement that had been on his face when you walked in now gone. “You said you weren’t working today.”
“I’m not,” you said quietly, confused as to why he was so upset. “Izuku messaged me while I was getting dressed and invited me for brunch, I was just going to meet him.”
Bakugou’s face screwed up at your words. He went to open his mouth but then stopped. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was doing the breathing exercises that his therapist taught him for when he was angry. What had you done to make him this upset?
The relaxing exercises clearly weren’t working for him because he stood up from the table and stalked out of the room suddenly, shutting himself in your bedroom. You winced as the door slammed shut behind him.
Oh dear… you had made your mate so upset that he had shut himself away in your bedroom. Your stomach twisted itself into a knot. It was time for some damage control (and a quick check of the calendar to makes sure you hadn’t actually forgotten an anniversary or something.)
You shot a quick text to Midoriya, apologising for cancelling and letting him know that something had come up. He sent back a ‘don’t worry!’ message and about six smiling emojis. Well, at least he wasn’t also mad at you.
Fishing out a tray from the cupboard above the sink, you stacked it up with as much food from the table as you could, thankful that it appeared to still be warm, and carried it to your bedroom door.
“Katsuki?” you called out, knocking on the door with your foot. “I’m coming in, is that okay?”
There was silence. Well, silence was better than swearing, so you carefully slid open the door and moved towards the brooding lump on the bed.
“The fuck do you want?” he growled. “I thought you were going out to eat with Deku?”
You froze at his vicious tone. Was he jealous? Well, that was a lot easier to solve than forgetting an anniversary, at least.  With a smile, you slid the tray onto the bedside table and climbed on the bed behind you mate, letting out a reassuring scent. You wrapped your arms around him, ignoring how he tensed in your embrace, and whispered into his ear.
“Why would I spend time with Midoriya when I could be spending time with you, hmm?” you whispered, purposefully blowing hot air onto his neck. You revelled in his full body shiver. “The only reason I accepted plans with Midoriya was because I thought you were going to work.” You pressed as close to him as you could and placed a single kiss right behind his ear. Bakugou melted at the affection.
“Come on now,” you continued, a coy smile on your face. “Let’s not let this delicious breakfast go to waste.”
You reached over and scooped a little bit of rice onto your fingers before holding it up to his lips. Bakugou opened his mouth with only a small grumble in complaint, and you made sure to push your fingers a little deeper inside than perhaps absolutely necessary.
“I promise I’ll make this morning’s misunderstanding up to you.”
Miscellaneous:
Bakugou’s scent is fairly sweet but still quite smoky.
When he’s upset/stressed, his scent is like burnt sugar, and when he’s very happy/excited, he smells like almost like a marshmallow roasting on a bonfire.
It’s a very pleasant scent but it does tend to divide people. Some love it, and others hate it.  Bakugou doesn’t care what anyone else thinks about his scent (except his alpha, but shh, that’s a secret!)
In his family, his father is an omega and his mother is an alpha and while they are happy together, Bakugou always promised himself that he would never end up in a relationship like that. He didn’t want some alpha bossing him around like his mother bossed around his father.
Bakugou finds meek alphas (and people) annoying, but he doesn’t like super aggressive alphas either. He’s attracted to people who exist in the middle of those extremes.
Bakugou knew he was an omega from birth, and it was something he was very insecure about for a long time. It was a big part of why he turned out the way he did as a child, he was making up for something that he viewed as a weakness by being as aggressive as possible.
His mother wasn’t great at making him feel secure in his secondary gender, assuming he would like certain things and pushing him in certain directions simply because he was an omega.
His father said that he was there if Bakugou had any questions, but he let Bakugou reach out to him instead of reaching out to Bakugou, and Bakugou was too proud to make the first move.
Bakugou ends up deciding that being an omega wasn’t going to stop him becoming the No. 1 hero. He decided that he could overcome being an omega.
It wasn’t until he was an adult that he actually started to accept being an omega was a part of him that he didn’t need to overcome, but that he could instead embrace and that it didn’t make him weak to do so.
When he does become a mainstream hero, he makes sure to always tell the omega children that he meets that they can do whatever they want and still be an omega.
N-sfw under the cut
Bakugou is a switch, mostly.
Oftentimes he switches multiple times in the same session, so his alpha needs to be quite the brat tamer to keep him from getting frustrated and trying to get on top so that he can control the pace.
He has a very high sex drive, and he likes to have a partner who can match him because he way prefers sex to masturbating.
It would be hard to find someone whose chest and nipples are as sensitive as Bakugou’s, and when he’s in heat, he can definitely orgasm just from his chest being stimulated.
Bakugou is also definitely a squirter, something which he was very shocked and embarrassed to find out.
Bakugou generally prefers slightly rougher sex. He gets bored when the pace is too slow and definitely scratches and bites (and is happy to receive the same in return).
When he’s in heat, Bakugou is a bit different.
He’s not a pillow prince by any means, but he is definitely a lot more passive than he is normally.
He’s not super loud, but he definitely swears a lot, even between waves of heat when he gets grumpy that he’s too hot and sticky. That swearing is a lot less sexy though.
Bakugou’s sexual side doesn’t really come out outside of his own home. He doesn’t like flaunting anything in public and can even get uncomfortable talking about sex with his friends, especially when they tease him with personal questions. He’s definitely a private person when it comes to sex.
Although that is not to say he isn’t confident in the expression of his own sexuality, much to opposite is true. He is definitely the kind of person to order some new toy or outfit on the internet every month to surprise his alpha.
He’s sexy and he knows it, so why not?
2K notes · View notes
iitachisuchiha · 2 years
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Busy Bee
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Kakashi x Reader
Synopsis: Your boyfriend has been busy hokage-ing so you decide to go visit him at work
Warnings: Smut, as usual
Word Count: 1,355
You smiled at the civilians that greeted you as you made your way to the hokage office. Everyone knew you as the Sixth Hokage’s girlfriend so you were used to be recognized when you went into town. As you finally neared the large building, you smiled to yourself knowing what was to come. You checked in at the front desk, before being escorted to your boyfriend’s office. Kakashi wore a surprised expression as the receptionist announced your arrival. He wasn’t aware you were coming to see him but he was happy to see you nonetheless. You thanked her before making your way into the office, giving Kakashi a peck to his temple. “I brought you lunch” you announced, setting the bento box onto his desk. Shikamaru gave you an acknowledging nod, “Okay Lord Sixth, I’ll give you half an hour for your lunch break” he says making his way out of the room. “Actually, make it an hour” you smile. Shikamaru looks back at you and a small smirk forms on his face. “Understood” he replies, closing the door behind him.
You stand behind your boyfriend, softly massaging his shoulders as he pulls his mask down to eat his lunch. “Well this is a nice surprise” he says before taking a bite of his rice ball. “Yeah, you’ve just been so busy so I figured I would come keep you company” you smile. To be honest, he was busy and you did come to see him but you also had some other things in mind. You make your way from around him and turn to sit on his desk, facing him. He pays you no mind, too distracted by the lunch you made him. You began rubbing your thigh, causing him to divert his eyes from his lunch for a brief second. Once you see you have his attention you smile to yourself. Slowly spreading your legs, you sit with your legs slightly open.
Kakashi’s eyes widen and he begins to choke on his food. You giggle to yourself when you see he realizes you didn’t wear underwear and he can see directly up your skirt. He gives you a knowing look but you play innocent, pretending you don’t know what he’s trying to say. You begin rubbing your leg once more, slowly inching up to your core. Kakashi lets out a low groan, a bulge beginning to grow in his pants. You smirk to yourself when he subconsciously begins to palm it. You slowly begin rubbing yourself, collecting your arousal before sticking your finger in your mouth to taste yourself. That’s when he loses it, he swiftly stands up to grab both sides of your face to pull you into a kiss. A surprised moan escapes you, sliding your hand down to rub his hard dick. He groans into the kiss, growing harder under your touch. He pulls from the kiss, sitting back into his chair. “Lay back” he instructs. You do as you’re told, laying back and spreading your legs open to him. 
He grabs your waist before lowering himself to your pussy. You shudder in anticipation as he gets closer, feeling his breath fan over your heat. He sticks his tongue out directly hitting your clit. A small mewl escapes you as he begins darting his tongue, hitting your clit repeatedly. He groans at the taste, scooting his chair up to get closer to you. You place your hands on your breast, slowly massaging them as he sucks on your clit. You try to keep your moans to a minimum since there’s constantly people walking past the hokages office. Kakashi relishes in your taste, moving his tongue in and out of your tight hole. You quietly moan his name as he pushes you further to your orgasm. 
He pulls back, removing his mouth from you. You lean up to give him a death stare but he just smiles at you. “Not yet” he teases and he stands up from his chair. You roll your eyes, your approaching orgasm now dissipating. “On your knees” he instructs, removing his dick from his pants. You do as you’re told, making your way onto the floor. He chuckles once you look up at him, you look so innocent even though you both know you’re far from it. “Stick out your tongue” he commands, which you eagerly oblige. He smacks his dick to your tongue a few times before thrusting into your mouth. You moan once he reaches the back of your throat which causes him to throw his head back. He starts a slow pace, fucking your mouth occasionally causing you to choke on his length. You moan around him, bringing your hands up to cup his balls. He groans loudly, looking down at you before taking his dick out to smack against your cheek. You moan loudly before taking him back into your mouth. 
He begins a harsher pace this time, causing your eyes to water at the lack of air in your lungs. You moan around him causing him to moan your name. He feels himself approaching his orgasm which causes him to pull out of you. You groan again at the emptiness but he shushes you as he helps you stand up and bends you over his desk. You grip the edge of the desk, preparing yourself for the pleasure that awaits you. He hums behind you as he lines himself up with your hole. He pushes in slowly as not to hurt you, he’s considerably big so he knows you’ll have to adjust to him. You moan loudly as he starts to fill you, feeling the curve of his dick directly rubbing your sweet spot. He places both his hands on your waist and he starts a rapid pace in and out of you. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as your pleasure begins to run throughout your whole body. You repeatedly cry his name while gripping the edge of the desk until your knuckles turn white. 
He brings his hand around to cover your mouth. “You have to be quiet” he whispers in your ear. You nod quickly, moving your hand down to rub your clit while your boyfriend fucks you. The added stimulation causes your pussy to become even wetter, which in turn makes Kakashi groan loudly. He moves his hand from your mouth down to your neck to choke you while he fucks you. You bite your lip to keep from screaming as Kakashi quickens his pace. You’re both panting uncontrollably, taking turns to tell each other how good the other one feels. A knock at the door causes both of you to stop. “Hey Lord Sixth, just letting you know you have a meeting in 30” Shikamaru announces through the door. You both let out a sigh of relief, convinced he didn’t hear the inappropriate noises the two of you were making. “Okay, give me 20” Kakashi calls back, starting to thrust in and out of you again. He keeps a slow pace until the hears Shikamaru walk away, then begins ramming you again. 
You both are nearing your orgasms, pushing each other over the edge. You begin rubbing your clit even quicker than before, your legs beginning to shake as your orgasm begins to take over you. You cry out again causing Kakashi to put his hand back over your mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, a silent moan escaping you as Kakashi kept fucking you. He groans at the feeling of you coming around his dick, pushing him to the edge as well. He digs his fingers into your hips, letting out a few last hard thrusts as he cums inside you. You both still, trying to catch your breath. He leans down placing a kiss on your shoulder. You both began to clean yourselves, sharing a quick kiss before you made your way out of the office. You were greeted with Shikamaru leaning against the wall, a knowing smirk on his face. “Have fun?” He teases. You playfully roll your eyes, making your way back home.
189 notes · View notes
taechaos · 3 years
Text
No More
from Textbook Love drabble series
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pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader
genre: dark romance, college au
synopsis: Perhaps love isn’t all you need to be with Jungkook. Maybe it's a sign you and him weren't meant to be.
warnings: fluff, daddy kink, public sex, degredation, mild angst
word count: 6.7k
a/n: dedicated to a good old gemini, known as pretzel anon. happy birthday! this was shit! 💞 can someone let me know if i made a stupid mistake i was really high while writing this lol
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If every couple goes at their own pace, how does one know if the relationship is rushed or a slow burn? What is considered a date, and how many do you have to go on to stop calling it a date? Maybe there’s a book called Dating for Dummies.
Jungkook has taken you out once: a fast food meal on the curb across your campus. Romance is subjective, so you thought it to be very romantic when he fed you a french fry under the streetlights while you were too stuffed to finish your food. “I paid for it,” he’d said, “so you have to eat it all.”
“I’ll eat anything from your hand,” you’d replied bashfully. He got a bit awkward after that, and you regretted saying it until he began feeding you and even holding your drink to your mouth. It was a successful first date, but you wanted it to last longer; feel your heartbeat out of rhythm with every smile he threw at you until the sun came up. Unfortunately for you, he walked you to your dorm a little after dinner.
Luckily for you, you know that wasn’t your first and last date. You’re going to ask him out for the second one because it’s a beautiful day outside and you’ve studied all morning for your finals to clear up your schedule for Jungkook. A walk in the park sounds nice, then a picnic, maybe he’ll even hold your hand! Is it too soon for another date though? It’s only been less than a day… 
You’re wearing your favorite outfit for the occasion: a pale blue floral dress that has a rectangular collar on the chest—without cleavage, God forbid—and sandal heels to match. You even styled your hair, and hopefully dressing to impress works; you don’t want him to say no. The current issue is finding Jungkook, and you don’t want to be that person, but you’re avoiding calling him in case you bust him with another girl by searching instead. It makes you guilty for having trust issues, but infidelity has its impacts.
Regardless of your internal concerns, you’re happily humming as you skip on the sidewalk, checking every corner for a certain someone. So far no such luck, and if he isn’t in his dorm, and if he doesn’t go off campus on Sundays, where could he be? In someone else’s dorm…?
“Stop,” you scold yourself with a roll of your eyes and continue your hunt. Next location: the back of the building. The front is cleared out, so is the dorm; what’s happening in the most secretive area? “God,” you sigh. Is this how your thinking process has always been? You hope it is.
The beat in your steps has gone missing when you’re rounding the exterior of the building because of your reluctance. You’re contemplating calling him until you see the back of a man with a girl in front of him by the benches, presumably kissing from the smacking noises. You clench your phone in your dress pocket as you watch them, hesitant to find out who the guy is.
“Jun–” Your voice goes quiet when you see the tattoo of a dragon on his shoulder, peeking out from his black loose tank top. It’s not Jungkook’s tattoo. You bite your lip and ignore the relief in your tight muscles; he’s dating you now, that’s what he said. It’s different, so there’s no point in worrying about his loyalty. 
You shake your hands off and walk faster to the taboo spot. There’s no point in worrying, there isn’t, not when he told you he would make it up to you. There’s no reason for your heart to race from expecting the worst when you make the final turn.
A shaky breath leaves you and a small smile follows when you see him smoking with his friends by the back exit. There are four people with him, Taehyung included, who is sharing a cigarette with him. He notices you first because he’s facing you whereas Jungkook is facing the clear forest across. He waves you over with a wide grin, his eyes lighting up.
“I see a pretty girl at 9 o’clock,” Taehyung says and Jungkook turns his head, the rest following his lead. You take tiny strides while approaching them and bite down on a shy smile.
“Hi,” you greet in a small voice. Your eyes immediately lock with Jungkook’s, who looks baffled.
“Hey yourself,” Taehyung greets back. “Care to share?” He holds a burning cigarette out to you with a slight bow, as if offering you a rose.
“She doesn’t smoke,” Jungkook answers for you without looking away. Is he displeased?
“Have you ever tried it?” he persists before inhaling the stick and blowing it in your face. You cough and hold a fist to your mouth, shaking your head. Jungkook slaps the back of his head before taking the cigarette from him and putting it out on the wall he’s leaning against. “You owe me a whole pack now.”
“Care to introduce us?” a guy you don’t know asks curiously. 
“Oh, right–”
Jungkook cuts him off before putting names onto the three strangers’ faces, Namjoon being the one who asked for the introduction, and when he comes to you, he says, “Meet… my girlfriend.”
“Thought you said she was a lousy nerd, Taehyung,” Yoongi comments before chugging from his flask. “Doesn’t look like it to me.” Taehyung chuckles uncomfortably before rubbing the nape of his neck as you tilt your head at him, the glint in your eyes never fading at Jungkook’s words.
“I didn’t get a close look at her before, didn’t know she was a real beauty,” he recovers with a flirt. Another slap on the back of his head. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” Seokjin diverts the topic. He appears very nice and seems to be the only one not smoking. His friendly smile puts you at ease and you politely tell him, “The pleasure is all mine.” Good first impression on all of Jungkook’s friends: check.
Your boyfriend ignores the interaction and stares at you until you gaze at him as well. “What are you doing here?” You can’t read his expression.
“I wanted to ask you…” you play with your fingers nervously, “if you wanted to go to the park with me?”
Jungkook quirks a brow as Namjoon and Seokjin wiggle their brows, Taehyung frowns, and Yoongi smirks. Quite brave of you to ask him out in front of his smoker friends, and it’s impressive that you play into such a role of textbook love: only caring about what your crush thinks. When Jungkook peeks to see their reactions, more or less weighing their judgement, he’s satisfied when he realizes none of them give a flying fuck about him being with a girl next door; someone outside of his type of rather than a free escort, really. 
He doesn’t care about what they think when he smiles down at you and says, “Let’s go.” You bounce on your heels when he swings his arm over your shoulder and walks away from the scene. The unsteady heartbeat is back for the same reason as last time, but you’re waiting to request something else.
The park near the university is peaceful with groups of friends hanging out; couples sitting on benches; the sun shining down on the trees and grass as you aim for the ice cream stand. You try to muster up the courage to ask him first, but you’re feeling courageous as you pull away from his arm and instead latch onto his hand and intertwine your fingers. You glance at him with a blush to see his reaction, but he doesn’t look at you and only squeezes your hand nonchalantly. His grip is tighter than yours. Maybe it’s from the heat, but his cheeks are tinted in a light pink shade. 
You stumble on your heels when you stare at him for too long, but you recover from a fall last second. He holds onto you anyway, furrowing his brows at your shoes. “High heels? Are you trying to reach my height?”
“You like them,” you giggle and continue your struts more carefully. When he frowns, you worry, “Do I not look good in them?” 
“Why would I like them if you can’t walk in them? You look pretty in flats too.” 
After a whole afternoon of eating ice cream, blushing at anything nice Jungkook said, listening to his music while sitting under the sun, the evening has come. Throughout the day, you were dreading the end of it because every second with him is so enjoyable. The warmth of his hand when you play with his fingers is a feeling you never want to forget, and you didn’t notice the little smile on his face when you were lying on his chest as he watched you do the most endearing and innocent thing one could think of. 
“So precious,” he’d thought. It makes the argument from yesterday feel all the more terrifying when he remembers how close he had gotten to losing this moment. It’s nothing he’s ever experienced or even seen before; plain jackpot.
You’re off the school grounds as you walk on the streets passing cafés with Jungkook, hands locked and feeling perfect. You wonder if he has ever done this with anyone before, but then he’s never been in a relationship. Who are the people that comment in his Instagram posts then? A question strikes you, and you admire his side profile as you ask, “You don’t like it when people call you– Ah!” Your balance wavers as you stumble again, this time falling on your knees after your ankle bends. With the pain tolerance of a baby’s, your eyes instantly water and you let go of his hand as you hold onto your ankle. It’s sprained.
“Shit, are you okay?” He crouches down and picks you up bridal style before sitting you down on a nearby chair. The café’s lights allow him to see the scrape on your knee and the bump on your ankle. “Hey, hey, don’t cry now,” he rubs your injury soothingly as he cringes at your tears. He doesn’t know how to comfort you as you whimper and sniffle. 
“Damn these heels,” you cry quietly. 
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your wording. “This is my second time hearing you swear. Swearing apparently helps with pain though. Say ‘fuck’.”
A chuckle leaves your mouth, but you decide to try it anyway; the throbbing muscle hurts too much. “F-Fuck.”
“Fuck these heels,” he encourages.
“Fuck these fucking heels,” you level. Maybe the theory is correct, because it feels slightly better when he laughs at your rare vulgarity. A minute passes with you trying to keep your tears at bay while he lightly massages your wound.
When he notices you calm down, he asks, “I don’t like it when people call me…?”
You sniffle and rub your eyes before saying a few seconds later, “Daddy.”
He blinks, stares at you, and his heart skips a beat. With your soft pout and red nose, you look so little to him. “... Yes?”
“Huh?”
“Oh,” he smoothly snaps out of his shock, “I don’t have that kink… Um, say it again?”
“Daddy?” 
It sounds different hearing it from you. Without the drawn out whine or the eggplant emoji next to it, and with your voice, it actually sounds cute. “What does that word mean to you?” he shifts the conversation with a subtle blush.
“I don’t know. You call a fatherly figure daddy, right? A man who takes care of you. People say it during sex too. You’re being a daddy right now.”
“Stop,” he warns lowly, “we’re in public.” He stands up from his kneeling position and picks you up in his arms again. “Have you ever called anyone that?” 
You clasp your hands behind his neck as he walks with ease, as if he isn’t carrying anyone in the first place. “No. My dad walked out on my mom when I was little, and I haven’t met anyone who treats me like you do.”
“Wait, you… think of me as your… daddy?” His eyes are wide and he’s gaping at the path in front of him with knitted brows. He looks so intimidating when you scrutinize his features, but you know he’s just flustered. You timidly nod against his shoulders. “Christ. Why?”
Your answer isn’t immediate because you don’t want to come off as too strong, but he’s impatient as he squeezes your waist. “I know you don’t want people to call you that,” you whisper understandingly, “but you’re so mean to others, and you hurt anyone who upsets you.” He rolls his tongue around his cheek uncomfortably. “Whether it be with words or actions. But you’re so sweet to me… You can be really rude, but you care a lot too. You don’t even smoke around me,” you laugh lightheartedly. 
“I mean, you are a baby. You make it difficult to not treat you like one,” he jokes with a hint of truth. You snuggle into his neck with a lopsided grin and your breath fans his tan skin. “I don’t like being an asshole to you, but I’m not exactly a nice person either.”
“You’re carrying me to my dorm,” you point out as a counter.
“I’m only nice to you; somewhat. And… I don’t like being called daddy by horny women, or men for that matter. I’ve never liked it, so I’m not exactly sure why I’m hard right now.” You tense against him. “Something about your sweet, innocent voice calling me daddy is really fucking hot.” He sighs to collect his thoughts; he can’t wait until he’s in your room. It would just be torture. “Did you get on birth control, baby?” He keeps his volume low in case of someone eavesdropping.
“Yes,” you mumble and grow nervous at what he’s thinking.
“Good girl,” he exhales and swiftly enters an empty alley between two restaurants. “Quite the slut too, telling me all this in a crowd.”
“I’m sorry,” you breathe as he presses you against the wall and has you wrapping your legs around his waist. He’s so thoughtful, carrying you even when he’s shaming you so you don’t put pressure on your injured foot. The shadows casting from the walls in the narrow space limits your vision, but you don’t need to see anything when he’s doing all the work by rendering you immobile from the press of his hips.
“Good choice with the dress,” he says while pulling out his belt and releasing the buckle. You hold onto him tightly without the security of his hands. He pushes his jeans down and has you towering over him by adjusting your position from the back of your thighs. Your breathing is quick and shallow from the anxious anticipation of the raw stretch, but he’s so nice to you today: he shoves your panties to the side and rubs your folds to collect your arousal as lube. He’s being thoughtful by relaxing your walls with his fingers first, and you bite down on a moan at the sensation. He’s still taking care of you by silencing you with a bruising kiss. 
“Thank you,” you sigh against his lips. His two knuckles are deep inside you as they curl and scissor. As nice as he is, he’s also very impatient and it’s not long before you feel his tip lightly poking at your entrance. 
“Ideal for a quick fuck.” He flashes a dazzling smile before it falters in order to concentrate on positioning himself. He closes his eyes and bites his lip as he slowly enters you, a lot more gentle considering the setting and knowing how vocal you get. A hum rumbles in his throat as you gasp when he’s halfway inside. When he bottoms out, he waits a few seconds for you to adjust before his rough nature returns. “You gonna stay quiet for me, little girl?”
“I’ll try.” Your heart is pounding in your chest when he leans in your ear, his breath tickling your neck. 
“You know that’s not what I wanna hear,” he whispers. He isn’t going to fuck you until you say what he wants, and your diffidence doesn’t make an appearance when his fingers are digging so hard into your thighs, his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s completely nestled inside you.
You lean into his ear as well, and meekly say, “I’ll try my best, daddy.” You can feel him shiver under your hands and hear him grunt, “God,” before he starts moving. Fast. You’d think he’s in a rush from how his pace picked up so quickly—roughly—but he may have just discovered his new kink. 
There’s no point in being quiet when the slam of his cock is enough noise deep in the alley, and he realizes that before you do. You’re bouncing in his arms, mouth open in a silent scream with only huffs leaving to not expose your doings, until he growls, “Say it again. Again and again.”
The chilly breeze from the night weather doesn’t affect you when he has you flush against him, and heat creeps all over your body not only from his hard and impatient thrusts but also from his words. “Daddy,” you whine, the same drawn out whine that he used to hate hearing; it makes his abs contract and clench now, a groan catching in his throat. He sounds almost animalistic, and your eyes screw back in pleasure. 
“Quiet, you fucking slut,” he reminds with a following moan. 
“I-I’m sorry, daddy,” you whisper in a strained voice. You can’t keep your vocal cords steady when he’s knocking the breath out of you every time he hits your cervix so deliciously. Jungkook’s a total paradox when he’s being so aggressive yet sweet at the same time, but it feels too good for you to complain. Your head is in the clouds when he bites on your shoulder to practice what he preaches: being quiet. 
“Do you love me?” Maybe that’s not the way you should go on about asking to hear his sweet nothings, because he bites you so hard that you feel his teeth break your skin. 
“The fuck kind of question is that?” he snarls. He licks a drop of your blood off of his lips when he faces you, but the bruising pistoning of his cock doesn’t differ; maybe slams into you even harder. “Hm? Answer me, dumb little slut.” He pinches your thigh cruelly, emitting a pained gasp from you.
 “I just want to hear you say it, please daddy,” you mewl. “I love you so much.”
“Keep fucking begging.”
You initially thought Jungkook became more honest and affectionate when you’re being intimate, but it seems that one word brings out a different side to him: wild and sadistic. Perhaps there are two sides of him being a daddy, one not so much of a fatherly figure. Controlling, dominating, and violent. You’ve received too many bruises in one night.
“Please, please, please, pretty please,” you comply in a cry and hug him tighter.
“Missing something,” he tuts with a breathless laugh. “I love you, stupid girl, more than anything.” He stops ramming into you, and the drag of his throbbing length loses its pace but not its strength. “So, so fucking much,” he strains before slamming into you one last time for his release. With him stuck brushing against your sensitive spot and his shaky moan, your lashes flutter and you clench down on him with the intoxicating wave of your orgasm coursing through your trembling figure. You whimper his name as his cum fills you, the warmth coating your walls while you lose your sense of awareness. 
“Stand on one leg,” he breathes. You know he’s referring to your safe foot, so you disentangle your legs from his waist and stand. The only sound aside from the drown out dialogues from the restaurants nearby is your panting. Though he’s just as drained of energy as you are, he adjusts your dress and underwear for you, even fixing your hair before he pulls up his pants and lifts you. “Don’t call me that around others by the way– especially Taehyung.”
“I promise,” you assure with a chuckle.
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The next day, a dreadful Monday, is not so bad when you get to link with your boyfriend and other friends by your usual spot on the benches. You don’t have a lot of lectures throughout the day, and you sit next to Jungkook who’s chatting with Taehyung and Yoongi after your long morning lecture in the afternoon. You peck his cheek as a greeting with a lovesick grin, and the former annoyed look on his face vanishes when he sees you. Soyeon and Minnie are close by, and thankfully there’s no tension between anyone. You’re forgiving, but you aren’t going to forget.
“So you two are actually back together, huh?” Taehyung says with a mocking smile. “What goes around comes around, Kookie.”
“Taehyung, you’re not making this any easier on yourself,” Yoongi murmurs.
Jungkook scoffs and rolls his tongue around his cheek—an irritated habit. “Well then Tae, I’m going to be polite and ask you to not be a homewrecker.”
“I have been hanging around Soyeon too much lately…” he jokes with a tilt of his head.
“Don’t turn this on me,” she says with a quirked brow, tone as soft as Jungkook remembers. You sit back and sigh at their bickering. “I didn’t know his name, you have no excuse to be flirting with her.”
“He isn’t–” You can’t get a word in when Jungkook agrees, “She’s fucking right, you know. Stop tailing around me to get a look up at her skirt.”
“I am not–"
“Oh for God’s sake,” Yoongi sighs like you do. Both of you share a guilty look, apologizing on each other’s behalf. It’s only when you start tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s arm that he finally looks at you.
“You like it?” he asks, a bit smugly. You nod with a tiny smile. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he pecks yours, and says, “I’ll add your name to the collection. Thinking of inking my knuckles.”
A blush from his kiss, and a bashful smile from his idea graces your face when you cutely pout, “No…” He laughs at your very obviously fake denial and closes in on you, teasing in a whisper, “Yeah? You like that?”
“Look at you two being so adorable,” Taehyung interrupts with a dreamy sigh, “but I want ice cream.” He holds his hands up by his elbows on the oak table and leans his face on them with fluttering eyelashes. “Kookie? Ice cweam? Pwease?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook winces at the disgustingly cutesy face he makes, and you release a humoured breath at the friendlier banter. “Go buy it yourself, moron.”
“I don’t have money and I want her tea on how you two made up,” he flutters his lashes again with his fingers intertwined; begging so silly. “Pretty please.”
“Now I’m definitely not going to leave you alone with her.”
“Baby,” you interject, and his eyes widen at the nickname. “I want ice cream too.”
He flashes a quick glare at Taehyung, easily giving into your needs with a sigh. “You’re paying, fuckface.” He snatches his wallet the moment it’s out of his pocket and walks off while spinning it between his fingertips.
“He stole my fucking wallet,” he frowns without offence. “Oh well. So…” his eyes trail to you with a mischievous glint, “you never smoked before, right?”
You shake your head, a bit curious—albeit amused—as to where he’s going with this. 
“You wanna know something? Jungkook reeeaaally likes smokers,” he stretches his hands for emphasis. It piques your interest, and you raise a brow. “I can teach you. We have to do it fast, before he comes from the store. Okay?”
“Um… okay,” you laugh as he switches seats from across you to Jungkook’s spot. 
He takes out his pack where his lighter is also stuffed as he speaks, “So what I’m gonna do is teach you how to shotgun.”
“You can’t do that with a cigarette,” Yoongi states in boredom, a plain contrast to Taehyung’s hyperactivity. “Don’t listen to him. He’s lying to you.”
“Oh, shut the fuck– okay, sorry, didn’t mean to say that.” He turns to you with glimmering excitement, “It’ll be easier on you if we do it with a shotgun.” You merely shrug because you don’t even know what that means. He sticks a cigarette in his mouth before holding up a hand to his lighter, inhaling until the tip burns. Smoke flies past his lips as he explains, “You inhale from the filter, but don’t inhale too much. You’re going to cough, maybe feel a little lightheaded since it’s your first time, but try to hold it in, okay?” 
Taehyung peeks behind Yoongi before shifting his attention to you. He takes another drag from the cigarette but doesn’t exhale. “Okay,” you say with a nod, sharing his excitement at a new experience that Jungkook could potentially approve of. You can rely on Taehyung’s honesty, though the bad memory from before leaves a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you’re ready to create better memories with him. He flips the stick until the filter is between your lips.
He wraps his lips around the tip and your eyebrows shoot up at the proximity. He holds your face between his large palms, and the cigarette is hidden behind his hands. He leans closer and nods at you, and you take the cue to inhale. You hear Yoongi blow out a deep breath just as you take in a shallow one. The urge to cough strikes you instantly, and you hold it in the best you can; your cheeks puff out as you slightly wheeze, and smoke leaves from both your mouth and nose. That’s when Taehyung pulls back, the intense eye contact gone, and you hear Yoongi scoff and the heavy footsteps of someone else. You cough into your hand when Taehyung slips it out of your mouth and holds it under the table.
“What the fuck?” Jungkook asks incredulously and throws three wrapped popsicles on the bench. You feel slightly dizzy when your small coughing fit ends, and you grow confused as to why your boyfriend is glaring at you with such intensity as his eyes flicker back and forth between you and Taehyung.
“Had to take you up on the homewrecker offer–” Taehyung’s sentence is cut off when Jungkook pulls him up by his collar, hesitates with his fist flying midway, then forcefully pushes him onto the pavement instead. He’s also confused– frantic, and doesn’t know what to do.
You’re semi-conscious of what he’s doing, but consuming nicotine for the first time leaves you feeling quite strange. You feel like you’ll stumble if you try to stand up, and slur if you speak, so you just wait it out.
“What– Why are you just sitting there?” he asks you with violent gestures. “What the fuck?” He holds onto his head, and all of your friends are quiet as they watch him. They must have missed you smoking for the first time. Yoongi waits for him to stop pacing.
“It’s not what you think, Jungkook,” Yoongi calmly tells him. What is he thinking though? “I know it looked–”
“The fuck it did! Right fucking in front of me? How the fuck are you so calm?” he yells. 
“Hm?” you say. He watches you in astonishment: bottom lip jutting out and brows scrunched. If he didn’t see you shamelessly kissing Taehyung out in the open, he would be doubting his own vision because of how unbothered you seem. It bewilders him; why aren’t you reacting at all?
“They weren’t–”
“It took almost one fucking week of dating for you to resort to this?” Taehyung is still on the ground as he sends you a warning glance, Yoongi is unbothered by the ordeal because he’s constantly interrupted, and Jungkook is fuming at you while you just sit there.
“I was just curious,” you relate to the cigarette that is still lit beneath the grass next to Taehyung.
An astounded laugh is his only response as Taehyung smiles at you, but you’re only looking at Jungkook. “And here I thought, like a fucking idiot, that you were the only girl unlike my mother. And you,” he looks at his old friend with menace, “show your face around me, and I won’t hold back again. God, I need to kill someone,” he sighs before storming off. So he doesn’t like cigarettes?
When the fog in your mind begins to clear up, you stand to go after him just as Taehyung blocks your path. “I need to tell him I won’t smoke again,” you try to push him aside, but he doesn’t budge.
He laughs. “It’s not about that. He thinks you and I kissed because I made it look like it.” Just as you’re about to confront him, he clarifies, “Listen, I just want his reaction on this, okay? Don’t you want him to feel how you felt when he kissed your friend?”
“I’m over that.”
“Are you though?” No, you aren’t. “Aren’t you paranoid? All nervous when he’s around other girls? Or even when he’s just not around you?” Your silence prompts him to continue, “You’ll truly forgive him if you take revenge. You know he won’t do it again if he feels the same way you felt.”
“But that’s cruel…” you try to reason.
“And what he did wasn’t?” 
Like the little devil on your shoulder, he enters your mind and reads it for his own agenda. What is his intention? Do what he couldn’t do with his ex? Is he… helping you? What he did was bad, so why aren’t you calling him out for it?
“What do I do?” you dodge his question. He knows the answer anyway.
He smiles with satisfaction. “Let’s talk it over a few cigarettes, hm?”
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Back to square one– no, square zero. At square one, you could at least interact with Jungkook, do his homework and have him kiss you when he was satisfied; you don’t have anything to do with him now. Taehyung warned you of this, told you Jungkook would start seeing other people and avoid you unless he wanted to hurt you. How he knows him so well is beyond you, because that’s exactly what happens in the next four days.
You watch him from afar like before, see that scowl on his face that you haven’t seen in a long time after you met. Only two aspects have changed: the eye contact and Taehyung’s lack of presence around him. Jungkook’s eyes are always on you, filled with so much disdain and hatred, even when he’s kissing another girl. Smoking stops you from crying because of how dizzy you get, and Taehyung is always with you – waiting. Both of you are waiting for Jungkook to do something, and it’s a surprise Taehyung still hasn’t been beaten to a pulp for just talking to you.
Maybe it’s a sign that you and him weren’t meant to be. In the span of a short while when you were together, only problems have surfaced. So much misery and anger in a relationship isn’t normal; it’s toxic. But you wait anyway.
“Look at him glaring at you with a girl on his lap,” Taehyung chuckles before lighting up his cigarette. He’s leaning on the wall next to the campus entrance with you.
“Nothing new,” you croak and take a drag from yours, coughing again. It’s déjà vu, if anything. One has to learn from their mistakes to reach success, right? This situation is just one of them for the better of your relationship. Has to be. 
“Worldstar,” he sings with a laugh. “I kind of miss hanging out with him, though; and the rest of my friends.”
“Yeah.” You can’t exactly pay your utmost attention to his words when you’re having a staring contest with Jungkook, who is practically devouring the unidentified girl’s mouth. It doesn’t sting as much as long as he has his eyes on you because you know what it means now: he’s trying to make you jealous. You didn’t know that before, but you didn’t know Jungkook as well as you do now before either. 
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“You somehow always do.”
Your reply humors him. “You want to go up to him, tell him what I did. But you know I’ll stop you.” His eyes squint as his cheeks hollow to inhale the nicotine. It’s a Marlboro Red, not exactly fit for a starter like yourself. You hate that you can’t even stand without using the wall as a leverage, but the effect is a necessary distraction.
 “Why are you… so invested in this?”
He shrugs. “It may not seem like it, but it’s going to help strengthen your bond. It also gives you enough time to stop liking him and fall for me instead, but that’s just a plus.”
“What?” you slur. The cigarette is hanging on for dear life between your fingertips because of how weak you feel.
“We should kiss– for real this time,” he blurts. “He’ll talk to you sooner. God, I really want to kiss you.” He drops his stick before grabbing your face and softly crashing his lips against yours. You don’t close your eyes, you don’t really do much of anything while he does what he wants. It goes on for twenty seconds before he slowly pulls back. “He’ll talk to you tonight,” he exhales. “You’re welcome.” He pecks you again.
You finally close your eyes and your head hangs limply. “You’re the real problem,” you murmur, “you keep tearing us apart. The villain.”
“That kiss was on me,” he admits, “but I’m just making you face reality. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy, right? Only reason I can smoke with you is because Jungkook cares a fuckton about me. I’ll make it up to you as well, when your relationship isn’t a fucking lie.”
Couples go at their own pace, don’t they? Maybe this is how long it’s supposed to take for you to be one with your betrayed boyfriend. This is the real beginning; Taehyung is just the catalyst. 
You see it when Taehyung is gone and Jungkook isn’t kissing back anymore. He isn’t even glaring. He’s just blank.
Perhaps love isn’t all you need to be with Jungkook.
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It’s late in the evening and the nicotine still hasn’t worn off. You haven’t moved an inch from your spot and neither has Jungkook from a distance, still on the same curb across. The girl left when she didn’t receive any responses from him for a minute straight. An emotionless “fuck off” was enough for her to angrily storm off.
You have no idea where Taehyung went and you’re sitting on the ground with your knees to your chest and hands on your sides. Jungkook is staring at you from the bench. You just need to wait because he’s going to approach you like his friend told you.
People aren’t in the yard so it’s mostly empty in the open space. The lights from the streets and inside the building you have your back against don’t allow you to see your boyfriend clearly enough. He doesn’t have an issue with making out your features though. That kicked puppy expression on your face is drawing him, but he hasn’t been cruel enough.
It’s been difficult treating you like shit, so he doesn’t bother. It’s pathetic anyway, more pathetic than having smeared lip gloss on his mouth that he hasn’t wiped off. He knows he shouldn’t be so immature – he’s twenty years old. He’s old enough to be able to communicate, but no one’s been making it easy for him.
He has to decide whether he wants to be with you or just end it all before he feels any worse. 
As the saying goes, no pain – no gain.
Jungkook slides down the wall and sits next to you after trudging in your way. It’s silent at first, and he doesn’t return your gaze when you look at him. You wait, and so does he. But he’s more impatient than you are; more hurt. 
“What did you see in him, for God’s sake?” His voice is tired; words merely a sigh. You stay patient. “I mean, right after I opened up to you? Why?”
“I was paranoid,” you croak quietly, as if you’re about to faint, “terrified of you being with someone else. Maybe if you felt what I felt…”
He lightly shakes his head. “No, you didn’t think of that on your own. You didn’t kiss him either.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t want to smoke, didn’t want any of this to happen. What are you doing, my love?”
You sigh. “I didn’t do anything. I don’t do anything.” The issue is that you let yourself be manipulated and molded into anything Jungkook likes, but he’s never told you what he likes. “All I know is loving you. That’s it,” you shrug tiredly, “that’s all I do. Everything I do, I do for you.”
“I’ll ask you for one thing– okay, two. Scrub your fucking lips and never talk to that piece of shit again. I’m not friends with good people,” he turns to you, “I don’t want you around them. I’m stuck in a constant cycle of toxicity and you’re the only good fucking thing in my life right now. I don’t want you to smoke or talk with my friends.”
“Then why do you?”
He stammers, “I-I’m used to it, I don’t fucking know. I know how to protect myself, but you’re too… untainted for them. Look at us, we don’t even fucking dress similarly. You and I have nothing in common.” He huffs to himself and looks up to the sky. “If you know what’s good for you–”
“You are good for me,” you interject.
“Don’t fucking lie to yourself,” he scoffs at you, “I’m anything but good for you. Do I give a fuck though? No. I’m selfish, and I don’t want to lose you. But if you–”
“I don’t.”
“Okay.”
Another moment of silence passes. He’s the one to break it again. “I don’t want to have an issue like this ever again. No more infidelity, or whatever the fuck, no more silence. Communication, right?”
“Right. And no more getting involved with your social life.”
“Thank you,” he bows his head and licks his lips with a sigh. “I can’t deal with this again. I don’t want to leave like my dad, whore around like my mom; I just want to have normal fucking relationship problems.” His anxiety translates to his body language: nibbling, knee bouncing, cracking knuckles. He doesn’t like to talk about his family, friends or even you. You’re calmer in comparison. “Tell me… we’ll start over.”
“I’m not resetting my love for you,” you playfully nudge him.
The corner of his mouth curls. “Not like that. Let’s go back to you doing my homework.”
“Really?”
“I missed a fucking assignment today, okay?” he laughs. “I want to forget about all of this sad shit, you ever meeting my friends, Sooyen or whatever, all of it. Just you and me, okay?”
“Set our own pace,” you add with a nod. “No one interfering with our… bullshit.”
“Don’t fucking swear,” he puts a hand over your mouth and pushes your face with a wide grin. You giggle with him. 
Now that Taehyung and Soyeon’s over, there’s nothing left to chance with the involvement of someone else. Trust blooms instead, and it’s not so bad when Jungkook shares a cigarette with you as you take tiny puffs per his instruction. You are safe with him; not dizzy, lightheaded, manipulated, nothing. 
You’re happy, and so is he. Maybe that was the intention, but it means nothing. Taehyung sought vengeance through your relationship, and that’s that. No one can hold Jungkook against you when he’s in the palm of your hands, ready to tell you more than anyone else can offer. 
Jungkook’s love and trust: check.
When he flicks off the ash of his cigarette, you snuggle into him and whisper, “I love you daddy.” His ring glimmers under the moonlight as he pets your hair.
“Love you more, babygirl.”
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foreverindreamlandd · 3 years
Text
The Sergeant's Heart +2+
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader
Series Summary: Sergeant Bucky Barnes has just joined the 107th, and he’s keen on learning the ins and outs of war from the best medic in the regiment, you.
WC: 6.9k
Chapter Warnings: War violence, some mentions of injuries/medical procedures, mentions of blood, someone may or may not lose an eye and it's ~gross~, a wholeee lot of angst and fluff, and Mitch being an asshole.
A/N: Chapter 2! Thank you so much for your kind words about the first one. :) This time we get to join reader and Bucky on the front lines. Chaos ensues with your friendly dose of fluff. Hope you enjoy!
Series Masterlist / Series Playlist
++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next morning, you walked over to the mess tent to collect your rations for the day. Food supplies had been diminishing as each week passed. For dinner, privates would be assigned to make some sort of concoction they called a meal. More often than not, it was some sort of stew and stale bread. For the day, you got a biscuit and a small strip of salted meat. It didn’t taste great, and half the base had come down with scurvy at least once in the past few months, which was always a fun time for you and the other medics. Still, any food at all was better than nothing.
You just wished they would throw in a damn apple every once and a while.
About twenty or so feet away from the tent a familiar figure caught your eye and you stopped short, eyes narrowing at Sergeant Bucky Barnes handing out rations, a huge smile on his face.
Somehow that smile widened when his eyes landed on you, and he waved you over.
“This guy,” you muttered under your breath as you walked up to him.
“Morning, doll! How ya doin’?” Bucky asked as you approached, handing a bundle of rations to Dum Dum Dugan.
“I’m good, Sergeant, although I’m a bit surprised to see you here doing the work of a Private.”
He chuckled. “Just looking for more opportunities to meet members of the camp. Besides, I figured they’d grow to like me more if I’m the one feedin’ them.”
You smirked. “I don’t know, Bucky. Sure, they won’t starve, but I don’t think anyone is ever excited to be given this stuff to eat everyday.”
Bucky lifted up the rations and grimaced. “Fair enough.” He handed you your goods. “Got any fun plans for the day?”
“What, during a war? I wouldn’t call any of this fun.” You breathed out a laugh and he seemed to brighten ever so slightly at the sound of it. “I gotta go to one of the field hospitals a few miles away to grab more supplies. We’re running low on morphine over here.”
“Do you have an escort? I’m only here for a couple more hours and then I’ve been given the rest of the day to continue to get a lay of the land. Just gotta be back by the afternoon to meet up with my men about going to the front tomorrow.”
All the blood suddenly drained from your face and you fought to remain standing. “The front line? Already?”
“Yeah. I guess there have been some pretty heavy hits and the men are really struggling. They’re in desperate need of some backup. We’re heading out first thing.”
You tried to distract yourself from the panic rising in your stomach. “I appreciate the offer, but I usually go to the hospital by myself. It’s not too far and I’ve done it enough times that I don’t need an escort. Besides, don’t you want to take the day to rest? Get settled before the real chaos starts?”
He smiled. “Nah, I’d rather make sure a pretty girl gets to where she needs to go safely. And maybe get to know her more seein’ that she was forced to listen to all of my stories yesterday.”
You fought back a smile, your dread suddenly leaving you. What a goddamn charmer. “I am definitely hoping to meet this infamous Stevie someday.” You sighed. “Alright, Buck. Meet me at the med tent when you’re all set here and we can head out.”
“Sounds good, Y/n. Enjoy your meal.” He gave you a wink and you felt your heart flutter.
Get it together, Y/n. This is probably how he acts with all the girls here.
You lifted up your pile of rations in thanks and walked away, passing Gretchen as she headed toward Bucky. She narrowed her eyes at you before putting on her best smile for the Sergeant.
“Hey there, Sergeant Barnes,” you heard Gretchen mewl out, and you rolled your eyes as you opened your rations.
You stopped dead as you looked inside the bundle, which revealed the regular piece of stale bread and meat.
And…an apple. It was bruised and wasn’t the correct ripe color you were used to back home.
But it was still the most beautiful damn thing you had ever seen.
You quickly tucked it away into your pack, afraid of any onlookers who would finally get the confirmation they were seeking about rumors of you stealing extra food and therefore not losing as much weight as everyone else. Then you turned back to Bucky, who looked over Gretchen’s shoulder so that his blue eyes met yours, a shy grin spread across his face.
You couldn’t help but mirror it.
+++++++++++++++
It hadn’t taken you long to realize that when in war, you had to find joy in the small things to try to lessen the all-consuming bad that surrounded you.
The heat of the sunshine in winter kissing your face, providing some comfort from the constant chill.
Soldiers singing by the campfire, laughing and sharing stories about home.
The way Dum Dum would light up whenever someone asked him to talk about his wife and kids.
An apple tucked next to a piece of stale bread given to you by a man with blue eyes.
One of your favorite sources of joy was, surprisingly enough, the journey from the 107th camp to the nearest field hospital. How, for a few hours once a month, you got to walk the wooded path in silence. Surrounded by trees instead of tents, the sounds of birds chirping instead of the chaos of a crowded camp, all sense of war gone and forgotten. It was the closest thing you got to peace.
There was a new thing to add to your short list of small joys. It was now at the top of that list actually, and that was the look on Bucky’s face as he gazed up at the overgrown pines. The smile that spread across his lips as he breathed in the fresh air.
You laughed. “Bucky, you look like you’ve never been in nature before.”
He looked over to you, grin still on his face. “Not really, doll. I’m a city boy. Grew up in Brooklyn. The only trees I would climb were fire escapes.”
You smiled, recalling your own childhood. “Same for me. I’m a Queens girl.” Bucky groaned, jokingly. “But our grandparents lived upstate in the countryside, and we’d visit them at least twice a year. Summers were my favorite. We’d go fishing on the lake, camp in the woods, all the typical outdoorsy stuff. Our dad even built us a treehouse. I fell off it many, many times.” You giggled thinking about all the times your clumsiness got the best of you.
Bucky beamed. “So you’re saying you got your medical training at a young age.”
“Oh, for sure. I first learned how to stitch up a wound when I was 12.” Your smile faltered just a bit. “Jonny had slipped on a rock by the lake and landed on a jagged piece. He still has- had the scar on his arm.”
Bucky nudged your shoulder with his. “Sounds like you’ve been taking care of him your whole life.”
You let out a half-hearted chuckle. “Definitely. I was clumsy, but Jonny was reckless. He loved getting into mischief and coming home cut up and bruised, always with the biggest smile on his face. I feel like as soon as I patched him up he was out the door again, searching for another adventure.” You were surprised to notice that you couldn’t feel the sting of fresh tears in your eyes, which had been the immediate reaction whenever you talked about your brother. You decided to take the risk and continue.
“I knew that when he joined the army I needed to go with him. We didn’t….my parents are both gone, and I couldn’t bear the idea of Jonny going to war and getting himself into more trouble without me being there to make sure he was okay. I was already working as a nurse in Queens, so I decided why not do the same work while also getting to see a bit of Europe? I didn’t have anything at home anymore other than Jonny, so why not follow him here and try to keep him safe? But it looks like didn’t work out too well for him.” Ah, here come the tears. “So now I guess I have no one at home and no one here.” Another laugh left you, but this time it was drenched in bitterness and pain.
You felt a hand take hold of yours and it pulled you to a stop in the middle of the dirt road. You glanced down at it and then up until your eyes met Bucky, face serious as his blue eyes pierced into you.
“It might not be much,” he said, his voice soft, “But you got me.”
You stared at him, speechless, then stammered out your next words, “Bucky, I appreciate it, I really do. But we only just met and I don’t want you to have to feel like you need to say that because you feel sorry for me-”
“Y/n,” he cut you off and gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “I’m serious. I know I can never replace what you lost, but I’ll be there to do what I can. You don’t have to feel alone. I’ll be there.”
You used your free hand to wipe away a tear that fell down your cheek and nodded. “Okay.”
Bucky gave you a soft crooked smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You squeezed his hand.
Bucky looked down at the ground, his face growing flush. Was he….embarrassed?
Whatever it was, he quickly shook it off and gave your shoulder another gentle nudge before continuing down the path, pulling you with him.
He didn’t let go of your hand until you approached the hospital.
Not that you were complaining.
+++++++++++++++++
When you returned to camp, Jane was waiting for you outside the med tent, a grimace on her face.
“Uh oh. She doesn’t look too happy,” Bucky joked.
You rolled your eyes, but a smile still made its way to your face. “It’s war, Bucky. No one is happy.” The two of you walked over, supplies in hand and went to drop them off in the tent for sorting. Jane remained silent, waiting for you to finish.
“Sergeant Barnes, mind if I speak with Y/n alone for a moment?”
Bucky’s eyes shifted to you, then back to Jane. “Sure thing, ma’am.” He dipped his head, gave you a small smile, then walked out of the tent.
You attempted to avoid Jane’s gaze by organizing the newly acquired supplies. “Everything okay?” you mumbled out, inspecting each bottle of morphine with an unnecessary level of focus.
“You’re being sent to the line tomorrow,” Jane said softly, and the morphine fell out of your hand. You quickly fumbled to catch it before it shattered to the ground. When you stood back up you finally looked at Jane, your eyes wide in horror. She pursed her lips. “I know. I’m sorry, but it’s out of my control. The medics out there have been working overtime to make up for you while you’ve been….working through things. They’re exhausted and need to rest before they start making fatal mistakes. I tried to give you as much time as I could, but with the threat of sending you back home from the higher-ups and the needed attention at the front-lines I can’t justify-”
“It’s okay.” You forced out a smile. “I get it. Thank you….thank you for stalling as long as you could. I know that took a lot of fighting on your end to make it happen and I really, really appreciate it. It’s time I….suck it up and move on.”
Jane gave you a grim nod, then walked over to squeeze your arm. “You can do this, Y/n. You’re still one of our best, and I know it will fucking suck, but you’re strong enough to go back.”
You nodded. You could feel your body shaking. “I know.” You took a step back to head out of the tent, suddenly in desperate need of fresh air. “I’m gonna go get ready. I’ll be back in the morning to gather supplies.”
Jane forced a smile. “Okay. Please let me know if you need anything. Please.”
I need my brother back.
You nodded, walking out of the tent.
You walked- no, ran to the woods. Your vision was blurring from the tears that could no longer be stopped, and at one point you blindly reached your arms out to prevent yourself from colliding into trees. You stumbled a few times over roots and rocks on the ground, but managed to somehow stay upright.
Finally, a hundred or so feet in, you found a stone large enough to sit on, and you collapsed onto it, shaking hands covering your face, trying to block out the images swimming through your head.
Mud.
Smoke.
Grenade.
Fire.
Blood.
Eyes, once filled with life, now empty.
You hoped you were far enough away from the camp so that no one could hear your sobs.
It took about an hour for you to calm down. The tears had finally stopped falling and your body was no longer shaking. You looked up to see an orange hue painted over the sky. The sun was setting. You should be heading back to camp. But you were so tired. Your lids were heavy, your body felt like it was cemented to the rock you were currently sitting on.
Maybe I can just sleep here, you thought to yourself. Or maybe I’ll just stay here forever.
“Doll?”
You jumped at the sound, turning towards it to see a wide-eyed Bucky slowly walking over to you, arms outstretched as if he were approaching a wounded animal or something.
“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I just, I couldn’t find you anywhere in the camp and Jonathan said he caught you running into the woods like an hour ago.” He stopped five feet away from you. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You nodded. “‘M fine.” You winced at the sound of your voice, broken and raw from crying. Bucky immediately noticed and moved to sit beside you. He gingerly reached for your chin to turn your face toward him and groaned when he looked at your red-rimmed eyes and the wet streaks that ran down your face. You tried to give him a small smile. “It’s nothing, Bucky. I’m just being a baby.” Your chuckle had no joy in it.
He reached over to take your hand, and you had to hold back a gasp at the immediate sense of comfort you felt from the contact. Your fingers interlaced with his and you took a moment to admire how perfectly they seemed to fit together.
“Hey,” he said softly, “Don’t talk about my best girl like that.” His face lit up for a second when you let out a genuine laugh at that, but then diminished as he continued. “I spoke with Jane. She told me you’re coming with us tomorrow.”
You nodded, tears unfortunately returning.
“This is your first time back since….”
You nodded again and Bucky sighed, squeezing your hand.
“Do you want me to speak to Jane? I can see if she and the Colonel are okay with delaying it a little longer.”
Your lips curved up ever so slightly and you finally found the strength to speak. “No, I don’t think Jane can hold it off any longer without me being sent home. Besides, she’s given me more than enough time. Way more than we can afford. It’s a war, and people are putting their lives in danger every day. I need to do my job and help them.”
Bucky used his free hand to wipe away a tear from your cheek. It was growing dark, but you could still catch the shine of his blue eyes as they pierced yours. “I’ll be there to make sure you stay safe, okay? You need me, you need to get out of there, just say the word and I’ll do whatever, okay?”
You felt your heart swell, and decided to test your courage to lean your head on Bucky’s shoulder.
The thing you admired most about Bucky was his slight hesitancy whenever he moved to make contact with you. His actions were slow as he took your hand in his, rested a hand on your shoulder, or wiped a tear away, as if always checking to make sure you were comfortable. You knew that if you showed any resistance to his touch (which you never did), he would pull away.
But the moment your head met his shoulder, you felt all sense of control leave Bucky as his body melted against yours, his cheek resting on the crown of your head as he wrapped an arm around you. It was the closest you had ever been to a man before. No one had ever seemed to be interested in holding you like this. And honestly? It was worth the wait to have this. You were pretty sure that Bucky’s hold could put an end to all wars. It was the safest and warmest place to be.
It felt like home.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
“I meant every word of it, doll.”
You smiled. “I know.”
These moments with Bucky no longer felt like ones that he would share with the other girls in the camp like you had originally thought. Yes, he was charming as all hell and knew how to use his devilishly handsome smile to make everyone on the other end of it swoon, but this was different. You had only met him yesterday, but there was a tether between you and Bucky that felt as if it had been forged long before he came into your life. It felt so natural. So...inevitable. It both terrified you and excited you.
And you fucking hoped he could feel it, too.
Bucky stirred after a few minutes, looking up at the sky, now littered with stars.
“We should head back,” he said softly, waiting for you to lift your head before standing up, hand still in yours. “Gotta rest up for tomorrow.” You nodded, and he pulled you up to stand behind him.
“You didn’t happen to bring a light with you did ya, Buck? I can’t see a damn thing.”
You heard him click his tongue. “Nah, that probably would have been a good idea.” He squeezed your hand. “Don’t worry, doll, I’ll make sure you don’t stumble.”
You groaned. “You underestimate the power of my clumsiness, Sergeant Barnes.”
His arm made its way back around you and his mouth hovered over your ear, the feeling of his breath sending a shiver down your spine as he whispered, “I guess I’ll have to hold on tight, then.”
+++++++++++++++++++
You tried to sleep that night. You really did.
But the anxiety of what the morning would bring mixed with the horrors of your past were on a constant loop in your head, and any amount of sleep you managed to drift into was far from restful.
As soon as the night sky shifted into a soft purple that allowed you to see the camp outside, you decided you might as well put your restlessness to use, and made your way over to the med tent to start gathering supplies.
Your hands were shaking as you stuffed your bag with morphine and bandages, and you tried humming to yourself to relax. It was a song that had been stuck in your head the past few days, the lyrics running through your mind and putting a small smile on your face, no matter how stressed you were.
“You serenading me, sugar?” You stopped humming immediately, keeping your back to the voice you had grown to loathe. Your smile was replaced by an aggravated frown.
“What do you want, Mitch?”
He chuckled. “Calm down, baby. Just wanted to make sure you’re prepared for the line today. We don’t want a medic who can’t get their shit together while trying to keep us all in one piece.”
Your stomach dropped to the floor, and you slowly turned towards Mitch. “You’re going with us today?”
He grinned. “Yep. Gotta oversee our new friend Sergeant Barnes to ensure he knows what the hell he’s doing. So obviously they asked the best of the best to show him the ropes and coach him on his leadership skills.”
“Bucky is already a better leader than you could ever be,” you bit out. “Not that that’s a difficult thing to accomplish.”
Composure was gone in an instant and Mitch snarled, walking over to you and grabbing your arm. “You listen here-”
“Y/n.” Bucky’s voice echoed into the tent as he walked inside. Mitch released you immediately and turned to him, hand lowered to his side.
Bucky’s face upon initial review seemed calm. But you noticed his clenched jaw and twitching hands, trying to prevent them from balling into fists on his side. His eyes filled with an almost uncontainable rage.
Mitch walked over to Bucky, letting out a soft chuckle. “Sergeant Barnes.” He held out his hand. “At last we meet. I’m Sergeant Connell. I’ll be going with you and your team to the front lines today.”
Bucky’s eyes shifted from Mitch’s face down to his hand, then over to you. You caught them flicker ever so slightly, as if silently asking to see if you’re okay. You nodded, and it was enough for him to look back to Mitch and shake his hand.
“Sergeant Connell. I appreciate you agreeing to come out with us.” You had never heard this tone come from Bucky before. You knew it should unsettle you, but it brought the opposite reaction. You felt safe. Protected. “I hope we can work together to lead these men and make sure they return to camp safely.” He nodded his head toward you. “Is there anything you need from Medic Y/l/n that I can help with instead? I’m sure she’s busy preparing for our departure.”
Mitch turned to look at you, his sly grin returning. “Nope, I just wanted to make sure our medic was ready to face whatever shit awaits us on the line.”
Bucky walked over so that he stood between you and Mitch, eyes locked onto the Sergeant. “That’s very kind of you.” He looked Mitch up and down. “However, it seems pretty unnecessary. Y/n is more than capable and will serve our team better than anyone else.”
Mitch’s gaze flipped back and forth between you and Bucky, his eyebrows raised. “She is somethin’ alright…” he said slowly, stepping back. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you two to it and meet you with the rest of the team in a bit.” He tipped his head at Bucky. “Sergeant.” He winked at you. “Sugar.”
Bucky’s fist clenched.
As soon as Mitch was out of the tent you released the breath you had apparently been holding the whole time. The sound broke Bucky out of whatever spell of rage he was under and he turned to you, anger dropping from his features. Now, all you could see was concern.
“You okay?”
Your head bobbed up and down and you forced a smile. “Mitch is an asshole. Not sure if that’s been shared with you yet.” You shrugged, looking down at your hands fidgeting in front of you. “But for the most part he’s harmless. All talk and no bite.”
Bucky’s jaw moved. “Yeah, well, I would prefer he not even talk to you anymore. Does he bother you when you’re on your own like this often?”
Almost every night. And now morning, apparently.
You winced, looking back up at him. “From time to time.”
“Well, if he bothers you again you let me know, okay? He shouldn’t be talking to a lady like that.”
“I will.” You let out a soft laugh. “I would say thank you, but I feel like I’ve said it to you so much in the last few days that it has lost all meaning.”
He grinned. “No way. Everything you say is amazin’.”
You rolled your eyes. “You gotta be careful with what you say, Buck.”
“And why is that, Y/n?” He cocked his head, eyeing you quizzically.
Because if you don’t quit it I’m going to fall in love with you.
The sound of someone laying on a car horn acted as your saving grace.
“Well, I guess that’s our cue,” you said, giving Bucky a small smile. He walked up to help you finish packing your bag. The two of you walked out to meet with the rest of the men and loaded yourselves into the jeeps and toward the line.
++++++++++++++++
It was just how you remembered it.
Complete and utter hell.
Camp was five or so miles from the line, so you could always hear the constant whistling of bombs falling to the ground before the explosive impact. But it was a bit muffled. Here, pulling up to the heart of it all, it was hard to hear anything else.
There were no signs of trees anywhere. Whatever had once grown there had been blown to smithereens. All that was left were the crumbling remains of brick buildings
You always wondered if life would find its way back to these godforsaken places one the war ended. If the war ended.
“My God,” Bucky murmured to himself, and it suddenly hit you that this was his first time getting a real glimpse of war. Sure, they showed clips of it at the movies to encourage people to enlist, but those black and white moments were filmed with rose-colored glasses. All that was shown highlighted the honor and glory of war. Not the devastation it brought to everything that stood in its path.
“Still happy you joined the army, Sergeant?” you asked. You clamped your hands to your lap to try to hide the shaking.
He looked over to you, elbow nudging your arm. “It’s not all bad.”
You barked out a shaky laugh. “Just you wait, bud, and pray to God you don’t lose any pairs of socks.”
The team that had been stationed there the past week was more than relieved to see you. The bags under their eyes were noticeable from ten feet away, and any exposed skin was caked with that familiar mixture of dried mud and blood. They quickly gathered their things and took the jeeps back to camp.
The medic you were replacing, Oliver, gave you a sympathetic smile as he handed you his remaining supplies of morphine and bandages. It wasn’t much, and you hoped that you didn’t need it. But you always had to take what you could get. Because if you ran out? Everyone was screwed.
The farther you ran into the war zone, the heavier your limbs felt. The rifle in your hand almost fell out of your grip multiple times. Your heart was beating into your ears. The saliva in your mouth was thick.
All of that time you had spent this past year acclimating to this environment, being able to shut down your senses to focus on getting your work done. It was all gone, panic was the only thing left in its wake.
“Y/n,” Bucky’s hand rested on your shoulder, anchoring you to him and this moment. He tilted his head to the side at a foxhole nearby. “Let’s settle there, okay? It looks like the other guys have found their spots already.”
You gave him a shaky nod, following him to the hole. He jumped in first, and as you sat on the edge, ready for your descent, he offered to grab you by the hips to help ease the impact.
Foxholes were not steep, they only dug down enough that you could stand with just your head exposed so that you could still fire at the enemy. Still, Bucky’s gesture made you freeze. No one had ever offered to help you drop into one of these ditches before, probably because you were too heavy to carry. His eyebrows furrowed at your hesitation. “What’s wrong, doll?”
You fought back a grimace. I don’t want to crush you.
He frowned. “That’s bullshit, Y/n. Let me help you in.”
Shit, had I said that last part out loud?
Sighing, you slung your rifle over your back and placed your hand on his shoulders as he grabbed you by the waist, easing you down next to him. He made no grunting sound at the strain of holding you like you expected. No, instead he smiled as you landed on your feet, inches away from him.
For the first time today, the world went quiet as you both looked at each other, your hands still on his shoulders and his still on your hips.
Shots barreling through the field from a plane flying overhead brought you back in the moment. Bucky’s eyes widened and he jumped up to turn in its direction to see if any of the guys were hit.
“How are your ears doing?” you asked.
He grimaced. “Just let me know if they start bleeding, doll.”
You chuckled, pulling out your pack and ripping off two small pieces from a bandage, rolling them up and handing them to Bucky. “Jonny taught me this trick the first time we came to the lines. It helps you adjust.”
Bucky gratefully took them and placed one in each ear, little pieces of the material sticking out just a tiniest bit. He still managed to look ridiculously handsome.
“Plus, it’ll prevent the blood from making a mess of our new living quarters.”
He barked out a laugh. “Oh, so this is our home now? How domestic.”
You looked around, pointing to one of the sides of the hole. “I bet we could turn this into a library.”
“No way, that’s going to be the poker room when Stevie comes over.”
“There is a perfectly nice dining room table for you and Stevie to play poker on-”
Your words are cut off by the onslaught of gunfire.
A shelling.
“Get down,” Bucky pulled you to the ground, arms wrapping around you as you covered your ears.
This was always the worst part of being on the line. Shellings happened either nonstop for days on end or not at all. The unknowing of when it would happen was its own kind of torture.
Apparently it was your team’s lucky day.
Five minutes of incessant noise, your eyes clenched shut as you prayed that they would miss their marks. The roar of planes flying close to the ground as they opened-fire drowned out all sound.
Then, silence. Bucky’s grip loosened on you and you turned to him. His eyes were wide, hands shaking, breathing coming out in short bursts.
You took hold of his hands.
“It’s okay, Buck. We’re okay.” He gulped, nodding at you, unable to speak. “Your ears bleeding yet?”
“Don’t think so.” His voice was shaky.
“Good. If they stay that way we can rethink the poker room.”
A choked laugh escaped him, and he gave you an appreciative smile as you both sat there in silence.
“MEDIC. WE NEED A MEDIC!”
And then the silence was gone, along with all of the blood in your face.
“Well, that’s my cue.” You forced a smile, giving Bucky’s hands one last squeeze before moving to stand. His hands tightened around yours and you paused, looking into his eyes that were now filled with panic.
“Don’t go,” he begged.
You moved your hands to either side of his cheek, placing a kiss on his helmet. “I have to. The men need me. Your men need me. I’ll be back, okay?”
You pulled back to catch him nodding, then you were climbing out and toward the cries for help.
Ironically enough, you were thankful for Bucky’s fear. Of course, you desperately wished that he didn’t feel that way. That neither of you were in a situation where you needed to fear for your life. Still, having him panicked like that forced you to find strength to be brave for the two of you. It reminded you of all the times the Jonny hurt himself. When he cut his leg on a rock, when he broke his arm falling off the tree. The fear in his eyes, the pain. You felt it, too, but you mustered up whatever strength you had to put on a brave face. To focus on bandaging your brother up. It was what made you want to be a nurse in the first place, to be the person who could tell others that everything was going to be okay, that you were going to be there to fix whatever the problem was. And now, you forced yourself to have confidence that you would return to the fox hole, return to Bucky, when all this was over.
But first, you had work to do.
You spent the next hour running to wherever the calls came, tending to the wounds of the men. So far none of the injuries were fatal. But there had been more shellings, more opportunities for guys to get hit. You would park yourself in whatever shelter you could find and wait for the barrage to end before climbing out and over to the next spot you were needed.
As awful as it was, to be covered in blood, body exhausted from all of the running and climbing, ears ringing from the noise, you found yourself falling into a rhythm. You were running on autopilot, doing as much as you could to make sure everyone was alive and in one piece (for the most part) so that you could get back to Bucky.
“I swear, honey, if my wife and I have another girl, we’re naming her after you,” Dum Dum let out a mix between a chuckle and a groan as you worked on the wound on his shoulder where a bullet grazed him.
“What, you don’t think a boy would be lucky to have a name like Y/n?” you asked as you injected him with morphine.
“Hell, I’ll name all of my kids after you. I’ll even change the ones that’re already around.”
You laughed as you grabbed a bandage. “Now that sounds like a plan, my friend.”
It had been 20 minutes since the last shelling, and you hadn’t heard anyone calling for a medic, so you figured it was safe to head back to you and Bucky’s spot.
Bucky’s head was peaking out when you approached, eyes looking around frantically. As soon as they landed on you, his whole body relaxed. You smiled and waved, picking up your pace as you ran over.
You swear your heart actually stopped for a second when you saw a grenade flying through the air and towards Bucky.
“DUCK!” you screamed, and Bucky’s head shot down right as it flew over him, landing 20 feet away. The explosion knocked you onto the ground, your eyes stinging from the heat and dirt that blew your way.
“Y/n!” Bucky darted out of the hole and toward you. You almost sobbed in relief that he was okay. He crouched over you, hands hovering over your whole body inspecting for injuries. You sat up, wiping dirt from your face.
“I’m okay, I’m okay.” You looked up at him and felt tears falling down your face. “Are you okay?” you asked, though it sounded more like a sob.
“Yeah, I’m okay doll.” He pulled you in for a hug, his hold so tight it was hard to breathe, but you didn’t care. He was here and he was safe. The sound of his shaky breaths was music to your ears.
“MEDIC!” you heard, followed by an anguished cry. You and Bucky pulled apart, and he took hold of your hand to bring you up to stand, staying by your side as you both ran to the call.
Mitch sat behind the wreckage of one of the buildings curled into a ball, hands covering his face. A Private was kneeling over him, panicked.
“What happened?” you asked them both, crouching down to Mitch’s side.
“My eye, my fuckin’ eye,” Mitch cried out. You pulled his hand away and gasped.
A piece of shrapnel was lodged in his right eye.
“Fuck,” you muttered.
“Get it out, Y/n. Get it the fuck out.” Mitch’s tone was biting, nasty.
“It’s not that simple, Mitch,” you said, pulling out your pack for a pair of tweezers. “I need to look at it. Bucky, get me some morphine.” Bucky jumped down to your pack to grab the syrette, and you found yourself grateful that he joined you on rounds the other day to learn how to properly break the seal to the top of the tube. You examined Mitch’s eye and groaned. It was completely bloodshot. The shrapnel was lodged deep, and from what you could see of the exposed piece was caked with dirt and rust.
“Mitch,” you squeezed the man’s shoulder. “This is bad. I….I’m going to have to take the eye out.”
Mitch pulled away from you, horrified. “What? Fuck no. You can’t take my eye out!”
“It’s the only way, Mitch.” You looked up at Bucky to grab the morphine, then gestured to him to get behind Mitch. “I can’t pull the shrapnel out without taking the whole eye, and if I leave it in it’s going to create an infection and it’s too close to your brain for me to allow that-”
“It’s my eye, Y/n,” he cried out. “I need it to see! You can’t just take it out!”
You hated Mitch. He was the worst kind of person. And still, your gaze softened at him as he cowered away from you, terrified and in a kind of pain you didn’t even want to try to imagine.
“Mitch, that eye is useless. The shrapnel, it tore through everything.”
Mitch sobbed, taking in the gravity of the moment. Finally, he nodded at you.
You looked to Bucky and the other private. “Hold him down.”
You knew the screams coming from Mitch would haunt you for the rest of your life.
++++++++++++++++++++
Somehow, your luck had turned, and the evening was met with peace.
Mitch was taken back to base to be treated at a field hospital. You did your best to patch him up in the moment, but there was still a risk of infection and you couldn’t tend to him and also make sure the rest of the team was taken care of.
When all that was over, the sun had set and the night was lit up with what had to have been millions of stars. You and Bucky huddled next to each other, picking at your pieces of bread, staring up at the sky.
“I’ll be damned,” Bucky breathed out, openly gaping at the sea of stars above. “You don’t get this in New York.”
“No, but you also don’t get airplanes shooting at you all day.”
He nudged your shoulder and you laughed. “Hey, let me have my moment.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you giggled, looking back up. “You’re right. It’s amazing how something so beautiful can be found in such an ugly place.”
“Yeah.”
You turned to look at Bucky and your breath hitched as you noticed him staring at you, a soft smile on his face. Heat rushed to your face as you looked away and toward the sky.
“You were incredible today, Y/n. I don’t know how you can stay so fucking calm during all this shit.”
“I wasn’t always like that. There were definitely moments where I’m pretty sure I almost peed my pants during my first few shellings.” You both laughed. “But after a while you unfortunately get used to it. Once you learn how to tune out the noise, focus on the work, it gets easier.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”
“You will. I mean, not totally, but you’ll find a way to live through it. You have to. We all have to. And hey, you were a great shot today, Buck. There were enemy soldiers I didn’t even know were around until I saw them falling to the ground.”
“Thanks. Although I don’t know how good it feels to be good at killing.”
This time it was you who nudged his shoulder. “You also helped me save Mitch’s life today. Had you not been there to help with the tools and to hold him down, that would have been a lot uglier. He’d probably be getting sent home in a casket instead of a hospital.”
“You’re right, I am a fucking great assistant.” You laughed, lightly shoving his shoulder. His smile softened as he said, “I guess we make a pretty good team.”
Your heart fluttered, and you rested your head on his shoulder to hide the shit-eating grin on your face.
“I guess we do.”
+++++++++++++++++++++++
Next Chapter
Thank you for reading!!
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ofstarsandvibranium · 3 years
Text
Rectify: Part 1
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
As requested by anonymous: It would be awesome if you could make a tfatws Bucky fic or series where the reader is on the list for his making amends because the winter soldier did something to her or someone she loves, and once he gets close to her in some way he ends up falling for her and it’s really angsty but a happy ending !!
A/N: FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER SPOILERS AHEAD!!! also, this will be a mini series that I will HOPEFULLY be able to finish.
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The list. Bucky's therapist made him make a list of amends to help him cope and process the horrors of his past. He was slowly making his way through the list.
With the case of Yori, Bucky has been a coward. He's been working his way to befriending the old man, trying to form some sort of relationship with him to eventually break the news that he's the reason why Yori no longer has a son. But he just can't seem to do it. So Yori's name remains uncrossed and he continues on with his list. The person under Yori is you: Y/N L/N.
You were ten years old when you were coming back from a sleepover to find your parents dead in your home. The police told you that you it was a robbery gone wrong and you were lucky you weren't home. But still, that left you without any parents, instead growing up with your aunt and uncle. You always felt like something was wrong pertaining to your parents' death, but you didn't know what. So you went through life just feeling without closure.
You visited your parents as much as you could. Your career in child counseling provided that you were very busy. However, the weekends were the time of seeing them and reminiscing.
That's how Bucky found you.
Around 3pm every Saturday and 12pm Sunday, you would visit your parents' graves. The time you spent there varied, but, on average, you'd stay for about an hour and a half. This was just from what Bucky gathered from watching you for a month.
It was how he found the courage to come up to you and speak with you.
He slowly approaches you, hears your music playing softly from your phone grow louder as he draws near.
Hearing the crunching of the grass, you look up to see him staring down at you, "Um...hi?"
"I'm sorry for your loss," he gestures to your parents' graves.
You give him a polite smile, "Thanks. It's been years since I lost them."
"Doesn't mean their absence still doesn't hurt," he interjects.
You nod in understanding and ask, "Did you lose someone?"
"My parents as well." he stands there for a few seconds in silence then speaks up again, "I'm James," he holds out a gloved hand and you shake it, "Y/N."
After pulling his hand back and shoving it into his pocket, an awkward silence washes over the two of you, to which to break, "So...James, do you...come here often?" then you burst into a chuckle, "I'm sorry. That sounds like a wildly inappropriate pick up line."
Bucky smiles and shakes his head, "No, no. It's fine. But to answer your question, I've, uh, recently started coming here."
"Are you parents buried here?"
"No, no. Um, I....I like to take walks in cemeteries." What the fuck, Bucky??? "I mean, 'cause, you know, it's quiet and peaceful. Barely any people here to really bother you. Just...I can clear my head." Yeah. That works. That should make sense, right?
"Oh. I suppose that's a good point. I come here pretty much every weekend just to visit my parents and I rarely see anyone. So I suppose this is a good place for you to clear your mind and enjoy the silence without the hustle and bustle."
"Yeah. Yeah, exactly. So, what do you do when you come here? Just sit in silence?"
You shrug, "Depends how I'm feeling. I'll tell them about my week, anything interesting that's going on. Sometimes I'll have a little picnic, read, journal, listen to some music."
"That sounds....really nice."
You softly smile up at him, "It is. You should try it some time."
Suddenly, your alarm started going off on your phone. You quickly picked up your device, swiping off the alarm and looked back up to Bucky, "Sorry. I have to go." you stood up, collecting your things, "It was nice to meet you, James. I'll see you around!"
You shake his hand again and head to your car. Bucky watches as you drive away and he sighs. He turns to your parents' grave and whispers, "I'm sorry."
____________
The next week, Bucky sat under a tree close to your parent's grave plot so that he could see you clearly and you him.
Right on time, you drove up, hopping out of your car with a picnic basket in hand and some other items.
Bucky sat looking down at the book in his lap, but glancing your way every so often, waiting until-
"Hey," you give a light kick to his boot and he looks up, shooting you a small grin, "Oh hi. Nice to see you again."
"Do you wanna join me?"
Bucky shakes his head, "No, it's fine. I don't want to interrupt your time-"
"It's okay, James. I don't mind. It'd be nice to have some living company for a change," you give a little giggle and he sighs.
"Well if you insist," he snaps his book shut and gets to his feet, following you to your parents' plot. You already have the picnic set up and you sit down, a look of hesitation on your face.
"Um, I kinda packed some extra food, just in case I ran into you today."
Bucky's brows shoot up in surprise, "Wow. Um, thank you. That's-That's really nice."
You hold out a tupperware of pasta salad and hand him a bottle of water. You play music on your phone while you two eat and make idle chatter.
You tell Bucky of your childhood, how your parents were abruptly taken from you, and how you grew up with your aunt and uncle. It provided some relief to him that your growing up parentless wasn't completely bad, that your aunt and uncle provided a sufficient amount of love and care to you on top of their own children.
Bucky was amazed that despite being orphaned at a young age, you were still filled with so much love, heart, and light, and that you wanted to provide as much care and compassion to troubled children. It was admirable.
A few hours past and both you and Bucky didn't realize how much the day has gone.
"Wow, I don't think I've spent this much time here in a day."
"Sorry," Bucky murmurs with a wince as he helps you to your feet.
You shook your head, "Don't be. Today was fun, James."
"Bucky."
"Hm?"
"Call me Bucky. It's a nickname."
"Bucky," you tested the name on your tongue, "It's cute."
For some reason, Bucky felt himself blushing at the compliment. So he looks down, afraid you might see his blushing cheeks and replies, "Thanks."
"Do you wanna have lunch sometime, Bucky?"
His head shoots back up and you look at him surprised, "Huh?"
You shrug, "I don't know. There's just something about you. I want to get to know you more. If that's okay."
"Um," he nervously runs his gloved hands down the side of his jeans, "Yeah. Sure."
"Great!" you take out your phone and hand it to him, "Put your number in." After he does so, you take back your phone, "So I'll call you and we can hash out the details?"
"I'll be waiting," he responds with a chuckle and a smile. He escorts you back to your car and waves as you drive away. Once you're gone, his smile drops and he murmurs, "Shit. I think I like her."
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