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kp-alice · 3 years

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Fading Grids | Jung Jaehyun

Pairing: Jaehyun x reader

Genre: Angst, but also fluff with a cute ending since this is a comfort fic

- While I did write this with Jaehyun in mind, you can find the other members’ versions here on my AO3 account. Their fics are identical to this one, I just changed the names so it could be about the member you want. -

Length: 3 599

Summary: Ever since you’ve met Jaehyun, it felt like a new light has shone into your life. Even the smallest gestures from him made you feel cared for and loved, a feeling you hadn’t felt in forever. However, you couldn’t help but worry. Worry about the day he would find out your long-kept secret.

Or, in a less poetic way, the day that he’d find out about your self-harming habits.

A/N: This fic is not meant to romanticize self-harm in any way and is mainly focused on the healing aspect of it and overcoming it with another person by your side. There are also no graphic descriptions of it, so I hope it doesn’t trigger anybody. As someone who has experience with this kind of issue, I know very well that there is nothing romantic about this and it’s a serious topic. However, as other fics with this kind of theme have helped me feel better in the past, I wanted to give back to the community and hopefully make someone feel even the tiniest bit better :)

And remember, you are strong, you are valid, you are worth something. Even if it might not seem like it right now, there are many reasons for you to keep going. Life will get better, and all that you might be dealing with right now will only make you stronger in the future.

It was yet another peaceful evening of lounging on the couch, doing absolutely nothing in an attempt to relax after a hard day. The lights in the living room were dimmed down, making the room feel that much cozier. The TV was on, illuminating your lying figure in an unnatural white. It only served as background noise, however, as you were mostly just looking at things on your phone.

You could hear Jaehyun shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely making himself a quick snack after coming back from work a little while ago.

You smiled to yourself as you heard the quiet rustling in the other room. Your apartment used to be so empty, so quiet. Void of life, even with you in it. Colorless. But now, with Jaehyun finally moving in with you, it felt like your home was glowing. Everywhere you went, you would see small things that would remind you of him, even if he was away. His warm hoodie thrown over the chair that he would always beg you to wear. The tall vase full of beautiful flowers that he gave you when he took you out on a date last week. Hell, even just seeing the second toothbrush in your bathroom made you smile.

You weren’t alone anymore. There was someone who cared for you now. A sun that brightened up not only your apartment, but your life as a whole.

Hadn’t it been for Jaehyun, you might not have been here anymore. As dark as that sounded, it was true. It felt as if he was an angel sent to you last minute to give you hope again. The will to keep going.

You still remember those days. Each passing day, you were growing more and more certain that your end was coming soon. With each new mark on your body, you could feel yourself slipping further away. You can still recall that same feeling of emptiness overcoming your heart and soul. That feeling of mindless surviving from one day to another.

Then he came along.

He didn’t know about them. There was no pity in his interest in you. He wasn’t caring just because he would have felt guilty if he didn’t do anything. He genuinely saw you as someone beautiful and interesting.

And that’s what stung the most.

You feared the day that he would find out. When he would finally see you for who you were - someone fake, someone unstable, a liar. You imagined it over and over, a different scenario each time. Will he find out in the summer, when you’re constantly struggling to keep every scar hidden? When you have to keep coming up with believable lies as to why you can’t wear dresses and shorts, like all normal people do? Or will it be by accident? When you’re changing out of your clothes and he walks in on you unknowingly? Or will he-

You could go on and on. There wasn’t a single day where these kinds of thoughts hadn’t occurred to you at least once. And all of them ended the exact same way every time. With him being shocked, angry, and disgusted. With him promptly breaking up with you and leaving you, along with the light he brought into your life. Leaving you in the dull darkness once again.

You felt like you were going crazy, the pressure and fear building up in you each day making you feel like you were drowning.

It had to stop. You had to stop.

And so you did.

You told Jaehyun.

It was about two or three months into your relationship, during one of your usual movie nights. Well, you called it a movie night, but it was more or less just a giant cuddling session, really. It surprised you as well how quickly the two of you have grown close. You would almost never let anybody get that close to you in such a short span of time, so how did you end up like this so soon? And why did it make your heart rush with excitement every time?

You guess Jaehyun just really had that much of an effect on you.

He was perfect in every way. Caring, loving, respectful, patient, oh so patient with you. It took just a single look from you for him to know if you were or weren’t comfortable doing something. And every time you weren’t, he’d just give you the sweetest smile, silently telling you that it’s okay, that he’ll wait for you.

The two of you were lying on the couch, with you resting on his chest and wrapped in his arms. You could tell that he wasn’t too engrossed in the movie you two were watching, noticing his glances at you every now and then. You didn’t mind, of course, it was adorable catching him every single time and watching the faintest blush spread across his cheeks along with a small smile.

But then his hands started to wander. And as they went further and further down, you knew what they were implying. What he was implying.

It was funny, really. Of all the scenarios you’d made up in your head about him discovering your utmostly hidden secret, this wasn’t in any of them.

You were brought out of your thoughts by the feeling of a hand slipping under your T-shirt, cold fingers contrasting your warm skin.

You snapped your head up, looking into your boyfriend’s eyes. He looked right back at you, and you could see that your sudden movement had startled him. His hand immediately retracted from you, fixing your shirt back in place as if to try and correct its mistakes.

“I, uh, I-I thought you were ready, sorry. I should have asked, I know, I really didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Jaehyun, really. I want this as much as you do, I promise. It’s just that...there’s something else that’s keeping me from being truly ready,” you said as you pulled yourself up from him into a sitting position. You tried to keep the rising nerves from shaking your voice, but it was getting harder with each passing second.

“And what is that something, baby? Is it something that I did?” He sat up as well, folding his hands in his lap.

You just shook your head, feeling the pit in your stomach growing. You tried to make up an excuse, but you couldn’t think of anything.

“Well, did you do something? Or did something happen? Talk to me, please,” he said, rubbing your arm comfortingly.

You tried to say something, anything, but no words came out. It felt like your brain was going a hundred miles a second, and you just couldn’t keep up.

You couldn’t handle it anymore.

You broke down in tears, burying your head into his chest and letting his hoodie muffle your cries. ‘He doesn’t deserve this,’ you thought. ‘He doesn’t deserve me.’

Sobs continued to rack through your body, and it felt as if all of the pain you’ve been holding in was coming out at once. You clutched his arms in your hands, holding onto them for dear life.

His own hand had returned to your body, but this time, it just ran over your back repeatedly in an attempt to soothe your cries. The room was silent, safe for the sounds of your labored breathing and muffled sobs.

You could hear his heart beating fast in his chest, only making you feel that much more guilty. You felt bad for him, you really did. He never deserved such a burden.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered after you had finally managed to get your voice under control again. You could feel the vibrations in his chest as he asked you why, voice sounding just as pained as yours.

This was it. No excuse will save you now.

You carefully pushed yourself away from his chest, locking eyes with him again. You tried to look for any clues on how he might be feeling right now, but you found nothing. They were completely unreadable to you, with an unknown emotion written in them. He was waiting.

You sighed. “Jaehyun, I...I’m really sorry. This isn’t your fault. Please, don’t feel bad about anything that you’ve done. You’ve been nothing but amazing to me, and I can’t thank you enough. I don’t deserve you, seriously.”

At that, he opened his mouth to try and argue with you, but you just put your hand up, silencing him before he could say anything.

“Not only do I not deserve you, but you don’t deserve me either. You deserve someone happy, someone who you can depend on, someone who won’t be keeping secrets from you like I have.”

You could see the shock and betrayal on his face, eyes widening at your words.

“Wait, does that mean...a-are you cheating on me? (Y/N)? No, that’s not it, you wouldn’t do that, right?” He asked in a panic, grabbing your hands.

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes again. Fuck. Why the hell would you ever cheat on someone like him? And why does it hurt so much to do this?

“Of course I’m not cheating on you, Jaehyun! I would never do that! I just...” you trailed off, choking on your words. You removed your hands from his, folding them in your lap instead. You wanted to curl up in on yourself and disappear. This was never meant to happen. This shouldn’t be happening.

And yet it is.

“You just what? (Y/N), please, tell me. I need you to tell me so I can help you,” he pressed on, rubbing your knee with his hand to emphasize his point. “Do you trust me?”

You could only weakly nod, feeling your throat constricting and stopping any potential words from coming out. A fresh set of tears spilled down your cheeks, making Jaehyun’s heart break at the sight.

He didn’t speak again, waiting for you. That was the thing about Jaehyun, he always knew that you didn’t need to be asked twice, you just needed a bit of time sometimes.

You winced at the pain of your throat tightening even more when you tried to speak, crushing your spirits even further. And not only were you sitting there, crying in front of Jaehyun, but he looked like he was going to start crying as well.

Deciding to just get it over with and face your demons, you shuffled a bit closer to Jaehyun, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down at least a little bit. With shaky hands, you slowly pulled up your clothes for him to see.

There they were. One of your biggest secrets, taking form in the abstract mess of lines of various lengths, shades, and visibility. Some were faded, some were recent. But all of them were there, staring right back at you to pull you back into reality. This was it.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You were waiting for him to say something, anything, but he stayed quiet.

You couldn’t look him in the eyes. Instead, you kept your gaze on those angry red lines as your heart thrummed in your ears.

“Oh no.”

...

His words repeated in your head over and over again. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t understand. Where was the disgust you were expecting? Or the breakup that you were preparing yourself for this whole time?

“No, no, no no no no. Baby, why...” He trailed off, trying to process everything that he was seeing. “Come here,” he pulled you into his arms, sighing deeply.

You couldn’t move, staying stiff in his embrace.

It was through your rigid state that you noticed the slight tremble in his arms and labored breathing as he held onto you tight, tighter than ever before.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around him too, pressing you closer together. You stayed like this for a couple of minutes, trying to take everything in. The silence enveloped you again, only broken by Jaehyun’s occasional kisses to the top of your head as he tightened his grip around you.

After a bit, he leaned away from you, making you lift your head up from his chest to look at him. You looked into his sorrowful eyes, giving him a bitter smile.

“We’re going to get you help, okay? We can get you someone to talk to about this, if you want. Someone who knows how to deal with these things. And in the meantime, you can always just talk to me, you know? I’m here for you. I’ll be there for you when you need me, just-” he hugged you right back into him, exhaling a deep breath as he thought about what to say and how to say it.

“Just please, if you ever feel like this, or if you feel even the slightest need to do this again, call me.”

“B-but, I don’t want to bother you...” You mumbled into his chest, heart beating at your words. You’ve never been this honest with anyone before. It was terrifying.

“You won’t, baby. No matter how busy I might be, you won’t bother me. What would hurt me more is if you wouldn’t tell me. I need to know how you’re feeling and what’s making you feel like this in order to help you. So please, can you promise me that you’ll tell me? Pretty please?” His words ended in a mere whisper, looking deeply into your eyes.

You leaned forward into one of the softest and gentlest of kisses you’ve probably ever had. When you pulled back, the two of you just looked at each other again, with you giving Jaehyun a small smile.

“I promise.”

And it was just because of him that you never broke that promise.

It wasn’t easy, of course. Countless hesitant phone calls to Jaehyun followed after that night. Some were relatively short, with only small words of affirmation and a gentle and sincere ‘I love you’ at the end to ease your mind. Others went on for hours, with Jaehyun distracting you by talking to you, the two of you getting lost in each other’s thoughts and ideas. All of the calls did help, however, and you could feel yourself starting to get better once you began opening up to him more. Did it feel embarrassing and scary? Of course it did, but it also helped you realize more things about yourself and your feelings. You started to notice small patterns in your urges. What time of the day they were the strongest, what things or activities triggered them, and so on.

It never really went away, though. Not yet, at least. There were still moments that gave you that strangely addicting tingle in your skin, ones that reminded you of your past doings. Only this time, you resisted them every time. Whenever you looked at your past scars and saw them slowly beginning to fade, you knew you had to keep going. You couldn’t disappoint Jaehyun. You couldn’t disappoint yourself. You couldn’t let the cycle start all over again. So you resisted.

Nothing would have been possible without Jaehyun, however. It was like he developed a sixth sense for it. Every time he noticed your face drop slightly, or the way you were picking at your fingers anxiously, he knew what was going on. And every time he noticed this, he didn’t hesitate to do whatever he needed to make you feel better. Whether that meant subtly changing the topic of your friend group’s conversation or goofing around with you until you were laughing again, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he wanted to see you happy again. And he succeeded every time.

It wasn’t just subtle things like this, though. He was very open about it with you as well, never shying away from the topic. He wanted to make you feel comfortable, after all, and the last thing he wanted was for you to close off again. And so he decided to support you as much as he could, even going as far as checking off every day that you haven’t self-harmed on your little calendar on the fridge. It was a bit embarrassing for you at first, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit like a child, but you soon grew to like it as well. And as you watched the rows of checkmarks growing with each passing day, you were more and more proud of yourself.

And so one row grew into two, then three, ten, twenty...

The soft pads of feet echoed throughout the apartment as Jaehyun walked into the dim living room with a big smile on his face. You smiled back at him, getting up from the couch to hug him, but he stopped you. Confused, you looked up at him.

“Don’t get up just yet, I have something for you,” he said, and it was just then that you noticed the small box in his hands. Curious, you turned off the TV and sat up straight on the couch, waiting expectantly.

He placed the box on the table in front of you before rushing back into the kitchen for something else.

“Don’t open that just yet!” He called after you as he rummaged in the bag he brought home with him.

“I won’t, don’t worry,” you giggled at his antics, feeling a small buzz of excitement coursing through you as you sat patiently.

He returned a few seconds later, holding two small items in his hands. You couldn’t see what they were in the darkness of the room, so you waited for Jaehyun to do whatever it was that he was planning.

He knelt on the floor next to your spot on the couch, giving you a small grin before turning back to the box.

Opening it carefully, he revealed the small cake inside. Your favorite kind of cake, to be exact. Taking one of the things in his hand, which you finally realized was a small candle, he stuck it into the middle. With his other hand, he flicked on the lighter he was holding, lighting up the candle.

The room was now cast in a gentle yellow glow, the flame of the candle swaying slightly.

“Tadaa! Happy anniversary!” Jaehyun said, picking up the box and bringing it closer to you. “Blow out the candle!”

You couldn’t help but be confused. Did you miss something? It wasn’t your birthday, that you knew for a fact, nor was it Jaehyun’s. And you just had your anniversary the other month, so what could this mean?

“Jaehyun, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I understand. What exactly are we celebrating here?” You asked with a small chuckle, looking into Jaehyun’s happy eyes.

“Wait, did you forget? Today marks a year since you’ve last...you know. Since you’ve stopped harming yourself. I thought it deserved a small celebration,” he looked at you with a bashful smile, faint red tinting his cheeks.

However, when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, he started to panic.

“(Y/N), are you okay? Why are you crying, baby? Wait, you didn’t start doing it again, did you...?” He said in a rushed voice laced with concern. Quickly putting the cake back on the table, he sat next to you, bringing you close as he looked all over your body for any new scars or bruises.

You just hugged him, shaking your head. “No, I didn’t, I promise. I just- this is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, Jaehyun. Thank you for being here for me and for caring for me and-”

“Shh, it’s okay, come here.” He whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he did the same on yours. “You have no idea how proud of you I am. You’ve been so strong and brave this year, and I really admire you for that, you know?” He said, rubbing gentle circles on your back.

You just stayed like that for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth and comfort, until Jaehyun spoke up again.

“And if my endless admiration isn’t enough for you to keep going, you have this cake to motivate you as well,” he said jokingly, making you chuckle with him.

You broke the hug, Jaehyun’s arm still wrapped around your waist as he turned back to the cake. “Do you want to blow out the candle?”

You thought to yourself before speaking again. “Can we do it together?” You asked, a light blush tinting your cheeks. Jaehyun just smiled, intertwining your fingers together as he bent forward slightly.

He squeezed your hand once, twice, and after the third squeeze, you blew out the flame at the same time.

The room went dim again, but you could still see the adorable shine in Jaehyun’s eyes as he turned back to you.

He leaned closer to you, connecting your lips in the most loving and gentle of kisses.

“I love you.”

pic credit - jpegfantasy on Tumblr

#jaehyun #nct #angst #fluff #oneshot #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun oneshot #tw: self harm #tw:selfharm #tw: sh #kpop #comfort fic #jung jaehyun #nct x reader #fanfic #fic #fanfiction

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give-grian-rights · 3 years

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Bets Against The Void c5

@petrichormeraki bet you forgot I even had this fic ! Thank you again for the gift that is Whitelist AU, which feels like a lifetime ago (For Tommy it was !)

Chapter 1 Here

Last Chapter Here

Next Chapter Here

and AO3 Crossposted!

Ask to tag and give me a headsup on any typos ! c!Tubbo in my interpretation is they/them and blind.

The Hobbit Hole was more than Tommy expected. Birch-and-spruce windows poked out throughout the hillside, a round entrance carefully carved from the wood. Poking his head inside, the blond’s eyes darted across the spruce-built interior skeptically.

“..Thanks.” Tommy halfhartedly grumble, pulling his hand off the entrance. He warily stepped in, his hand resting on the doorway entrance for a moment as he investigated for potential traps.

“You’re..Sure we can just- stay here?” Tubbo asked once more, their head turned back towards the dirty blond stood aside the messy front garden.

“Of course, I swear, I don’t need another place to hoard stuff! Chances are, I’ll only be out here if I finally get around to moving my villagers out of their old setup.” The older brit confirmed once more, his tone light. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Promise.”

Hesitantly nodding, Tubbo offered an appreciative smile his way before they turned back towards Tommy. “How’s it looking, then, Big Man?” They hummed, tilting their head.

“Fuckin’ cool as shit-” He glanced around, apprehensively surveying the ground for any traps.

“It needs a bit of cleanin’ up,” Stress chirped, sending a lighthearted glare towards Grian as he stuck out his tongue with a snicker. “We’d all be happy to help.” She finished, with a warm smile.

Tubbo politely nodded. “I think we’ll handle it. Thank you, again.” They ran their hand over the wooden arc in the entrance.

Grian shook his head. “Really, don’t worry about it. Stay here. Get settled. Either of us may be over to check up. Across the lake’s my neighbor, Scar, who you might see. But he shouldn’t come around here.”

With a bit of exasperation, ready to be left alone, Tommy wordlessly nodded as he bounced his leg.

Clearing his throat, Grian nodded. “Alright, then we’ll be out. We’ll see you two soon. Cya, Stress, thanks for the help!” He dipped his head towards the short brunette, who grinned bubbly back.

“See ya! Bye, loves.” Stress cooed, before deploying her glowing skeletal wings and ascending off with a quick poof of smoke.

Instinctively when the item had come to her hand, Tommy had thrown his arms around Tubbo’s ears- an action that didn’t go unnoticed by the sandy brunett man.

Grian simply put his hands up pacifying, as Tubbo was shrunk back curled, shielded away from where the brief poof was. “They’re duds, almost all fireworks here are duds.” He had calmly spoke, his tone soft. “I’ll come back to check up on you guys soon, ‘n make sure you have the supplies you need. You have free reign of that base!” Were his parting words, before he trotted off into the woodland.

Tommy uncurled himself from Tubbo. “You good, Bigman?” The blond tilted his head.

“Yeah,” Tubbo chuckled halfheartedly. “It doesn’t really.. Scare me it just- it startles me? Hearing it? ‘Cause I don’t really have time to prepare myself for the noise..Even if it’s not the same as- the kind from. Then.” Their voice wavered for a moment, before they took a shuttering breath. “Yeah, I’m fine, Man.”

“..Mhm..Alright. Well, this set-up is better than just ‘bout half the shit on’ the SMP.” Tommy diverted the subject, sweeping his foot over the top of the floor, watching the small streak it left beneath a thin coat of dust.

Tubbo tilted their head. “Really? It smells..Very dusty-” They sneezed into their arm, sniffling. “I.. feel like it might need a bit of work, yeah?”

The blond boy shrugged. “Yeah.. We can see ‘bout gettin’ a towel wet or something and wiping all ths shit down?”

Humming in agreement, Tubbo felt around, listening to the words their Comm robotically had been reading off.

“I’ll see ‘bout findin’ shit. They’ve gotta have wool in some of these chests,”

With a bit of digging, the two teens had gotten to work. Not everywhere in the practically abandoned place was dusty or dirty. A small lush crevice was fresh and clean- or, relatively so. Bright feathers had littered the area around it. A path from a window seal, which had been opened, and to said crevice was nearly spotless of debris outside of such molting feathers or a few leaves.

Now without dust on the outside, the two messed with the chests, rummaging through what could be found.

..Which was a lot. Just not in the places they had expected.

Out of the chests they had searched through, they managed to find almost a doublechest full of various stacked enchanted books-

“How..How did he just leave all of this here?” “Well, he has enough he defenitely won’t notice a few gone!”

A totem of undying in a michalanious chest-

“Woah.. WHAT THE SHIT..” “Dude… This is.. A gamechanger”

A golden apple held by an item frame-

“Finders keepers! This counts, its on a chest.” “Sick!”

Bafflingly, a diamond in the food chest-

“What the actual shit. WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT-” “What? W- WHAT? WHY?”

Two enchanted, nearly broken bows with enchants- “Better than nothing, I’ll see about combinin’ them unless you feel like pinnin’ the tail on the donkey.” “..Sounds like a good plan, yah.”

And in the middle of the room, a chest with an enchanted diamond axe-

“..Fuck. Wow- There’s just a wholeass enchanted axe! What the fuck is the point of the itemframes if theres no system here?”

“Whats it enchanted with..?” “..Fortune? What a waste. Uhh, some efficiency, too.”

There wasnt much in the main storage room, but they werent quite willing to push their luck and explore too far. At least not until they got some food and set up some sort of gameplan.

The two teens distributed some of the loot they scavanged, damaged iron armor going to Tommy, a shovel to Tubbo and a spare shovel to Tommy, The totem of undying to Tubbo, and the two diamonds they scavenged turned into a diamond sword for Tubbo as well, with the axe and golden apple going to Tommy.

They turned their focus to food. The two sat beneath the support pillars against the walls, taking the time to eat a handful of watermelon slices.

The wall of chests ahead of them had been broken, exposing the opened window with feathers trailing from it. It was an oddly live scene in the otherwise abandoned wooden hole.

Neither of them quite enjoyed the feeling of being holed in, or the small nature of the wall-home. Nor did either teen mention it.

Tommy explained the varying entrance ways from the mainroom. They had decided on splitting up soon, letting Tubbo find a place to dig out a room for the two of them, with Tommy going off and rummaging through more chests.

Tubbo found a dead-end room beneath a spruce-log room on the second story, and had begun trying to carve it out, as the other teen worked through more and more chests.

The blond eventually worked his way outside and into yard infront of the entrance, rummaging his way through the bits and pieces- the best so far, being another golden apple which he happily held onto.

Half way through his second chest, something caught his attention- or, more like, he caught something’s attention.

A blue, yellow-cheeked bird had fluttered around him, its head quirked curiously as it stared him down. Tommy shrinked.

“What the fuck do you want?” He squinted at the parrot as it lowered itself down onto the top of the open chest, hopping along the edge.

“F⚍ᓵꖌ!” The bird cooed in responded incoherently, chirping at him.

Tommy paused, eyes lighting up in realization. “Oi! You’re the one that flies into the house, huh?”

In response, it turned it’s head away, nodding. “Hobbit!” It shrilled.

As Tommy had opened his mouth to respond, the hobbit himself, Grian, had flown down, sweeping down with a soft thud.

“Sorry! Uh, Professor Beak has a little spot in there. He likes to go n stay there most days, its a lot cozier than the mansion,” The older Brit chuckled apologetically, putting out his hand for the parrot.

The blond boy snorted. “‘Professor Beak?’” He’d raise a brow.

The named bird chirped, stepping onto Grian’s wrist without hesitation. “Professor Ellen Taurtis Beak!” It cooed, its voice mimicking that of Grian himself.

It was… A strange display, to be sure.

Sheepishly, Grian hummed, running his spare hand through the bird’s feathers. “They may try ‘n break back in, they’re a pesky bird like that. I’m sorry for bothering you, though. You two doing good?”

“..Hm,,Yeah, thanks. Are you..Like, fuckin’ aware of all the stuff you’re leavin’?” Tommy eyed the strange man, folding his arms.

Grian merely gave a shrug. “Not really? But that just means they’re nothing important. If they help you both get started, they’re yours.”

Huh. Well, that was easy enough.

“..Right. Cool. Bye.” Tommy watched the man, as he easily nodded, striding off with his bird held by his chest.

The blond let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“..This place is fucking weird.”

#dsmp x hc #dsmp x hermitcraft #bets against the void #whitelist au #dsmp x hc fic #dsmp x hermitcraft fic #writing #mika writing #mika-posts

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theonetheycallhannah · 4 years

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The Treatment of Captain Syverson- Chapter 7: Non-Productive Time

Pairing: Captain “Sy” Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: On a slow afternoon, Shane remembers a couple of fun evenings with Sy, and can’t help but start texting him…he turns out to be a bad influence.

Don’t want spoilers? Click me first to catch up!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Language, mature themes, a steamy scene that bumps up against the line of smut/not smut…it looks like smuttish is, in fact, a thing, (see what I did there? Toss a high five to your fic writer for the paraphrased Witcher quote in these here notes! lol! Sorry, i’m tired...and in a weird mood tonight...) so, anyway, using that. I love it.

Author’s Note: This chapter was about half done before I even started SI1 and SI2! So that’s why it’s come along so quickly in the wake of them. It could also mean that there are some continuity issues…I found a couple during the re-write of the first part, and more when I was proofing, so it should be good, but…fair warning, one or more could have escaped me! Also, let me know if the text convo is hard to follow. I’ll try to reconfigure it to be more clear. It seemed to me like context was enough, and they’d had text convos before, and no one said anything…this one’s longer by about 300%, though, so…feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags:

@onlyhenrys

@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

@thisismysecretthirstblog

@misslaland

@speakerforthedead0@tumblnewby

@suavechops

Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

Time seemed to pass slowly when Shane wasn’t with Sy. When they weren’t having dinner together, or doing their typical date thing. She thought about their second date. One of the bars in town, chosen for its above average bar food but mostly, it’s pool tables. The warning he’d given her via text had made her laugh:

We’re goin’ to Cade’s for apps and pool, if that's okay. As gorgeous as you looked in that blue dress you wore last night, I recommend jeans and a T-shirt for tonight, okay?

She took his suggestion. A simple black tee, because she was a food klutz from hell, layered over a red camisole, and her favorite jeans. It showed off her dainty arrow necklace well.

While they played, they drank beer and talked about life, getting deeper into things than they could at therapy sessions.

“Dad split when I was about ten, I guess. Mom did her best with her only son, but she sent me to my grandpa’s a lot when she was working or just…needing her own time. He’d been an army man. Fought in Korea. His dad was in World War II. It felt like…I don’t know, this pull, like I was meant to join up.”

“Destiny?” She asked. A dreamy tone overtook him when he talked about his family and his now former career.

“I guess. Never though too much of all that before.”

They smiled at one another. Knowing.

“What was he like? Your grandpa?”

“Oh, Pap was the best. He was a mechanic in the service and so he could get anything hummin, ya know? We fixed up and built motors for all kinds a’ shit. My first car was a ‘67 Shelby Mustang with the fast back all because when I was about 14, he found most of one at a salvage yard and basically rescued it from the crusher. Got it for about nothin’. For two years we collected parts and did body work on that thing. And by the time I turned sixteen, it was the most beautiful, show-ready Kerry green machine you ever seen.”

“One of my favorite cars! I’d love to see pictures!”

“I’ve still got ‘er.” He grinned. “When Pap died, it got…hard for me to drive her, ya know? So…special occasions only now. And he left me his truck, which he’d just bought brand new while I was on my first tour. That F150 crew cab we came here in, with all the bells 'n whistles. I couldn’t let such a fine automobile go to waste.” He grinned.

“You’re such a gear head.” She chuckled.

“Hey, you may be glad about that when you need somebody to get your own motor humming.” He teased back at her, bending over the table to take his shot and sinking it deftly. He said they would only play for fun, but he was still winning this round…which she didn’t think was that fun.

“Okay, I deserved that.”

“The shot, or the innuendo?” He asked to clarify.

“Yes.” They laughed. He eventually did miss, making it her turn.

"Ya know, I'm disappointed in this date, Shane." He baited.

"How come?" she asked, a bit hurt.

"A guy only asks a girl to play pool with him so he can show her how to shoot…and you already know."

It was true. She'd played a lot growing up and even a bit as she got older. She and her siblings loved billiards. Her whole family, really. And although she was no professional, she wasn't half bad for an amateur.

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently, sizing up the table for her next shot, but knowing with a fair amount of certainty what he was implying.

"You know. I wanted to get all close to ya. Show ya how to grip that cue in your hand. How to stand, bent at the hip, where to eyeball your shot from." he smiled. "All that shit ya see in movies that makes the girl all nervous and excited that the guy's touchin' on her. Pressed up against her."

Shane grinned, picked up the small, blue cube of chalk and rolled the concave side over the tip of her cue…she had no need to do so, most people didn't, really…but she made herself look really sexy doing it and asked Sy, "Is that right? Well, I guess you'll have to find another way to get your cheap thrills, because this girl has been known to run a table." She bent over the green felt seductively, the angle at which she did so displaying her décolletage in his direction just enough to tantalize him into licking his lips. She took her shot at the 10 ball, but sunk the 8 instead, losing her the game…damn. She shouldn't have gotten cocky.

"Run it where, sunshine? Into the ground? Off a cliff?" he laughed as she stomped over and began to poke him mercilessly in the ribs.

"Come on, Minnesota Fats. Let's pay the tab and find something a little cozier to do."

"Oka--wait, did you just call me fat?" he was incredulous. She laughed.

"Oh my God, you thought YOU were gonna teach ME about billiards…Minnesota Fats is like the most famous pool player of ever. I am not calling you fat."

"You messin' with me?" he squinted.

"Sy, google it. I promise. I would never call you fat. You're… my sexy man bear."

"Technically a bear is a fat animal." he sulked.

"Why don't you tell that to one when it's chasing you down to make a meal of ya!" Shane laughed. "Come on. Remember? I think I mentioned something about… finding another way for you to get cheap thrills. Lets explore that, shall we?" she whispered into his ear. He dropped some bills on their table nearby to more than cover their food and beer, and they hauled ass into the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had definitely been exploring. In the two weeks since they'd been given the green light to see each other outside of therapy--the day Sy basically handed Shane's boss her own ass--they'd spent most evenings with each other, unless Shane had a particularly late evening at work or an early day the next day. A few nights, they had been together so late, that just staying over seemed the most reasonable option. But they had both agreed to take things slowly with the physical stuff. It had been a long time since either of them had been in a relationship, and given their patient/therapist situation, waiting a while for the sex had seemed like a good idea…on paper. On the sofa had been a different story.

One day last week, she'd had to make an early night of things, and stood up from his couch, but was pulled back down to straddle his lap.

"Hold on a minute, sunshine. Why don't you gimme a proper goodbye before ya go, hmm?" he held her so close to him at every curve of their bodies, like the pieces of a puzzle snapping flush together. His kisses were deep and agonizing, his beard gently brushing her mouth, teasing her with its uncommon softness. She returned the ardor, squeezing him in every way she could.

She couldn't contain the desire pooling at her center, especially when he clearly couldn't contain his, either, straining against his shorts, pressing against her so deliciously, right where she needed him. She didn't hold back. And he was nothing if not encouraging to her endeavor.

"That feels so good, baby. You're so warm. Mmm." he whispered as he nipped at her ear and bit at her neck. She hadn't intended to, but she felt herself slipping over the edge, into pure euphoria and gripped at his hair, still rather short, though growing out from the mandated buzz. The length made him even more sensitive and when she ran her hands up his neck and over the back of his head, the result was like an electric current straight to his manhood. His body tensed as his release followed hers seconds later.

"Fuck." he said. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" she was truly confused.

"For losin' it like a teenager." he sighed and laid his head against the back of his couch in surrender…an unfamiliar sight, Shane was certain.

"Don't worry about it. I mean…it's not quite how I pictured our first time, but--"

"Oh, hell no. This doesn't count as a TIME, sunshine. This is batting practice. A warm up.”

"Ooh, you and your baseball references again. I told you, I need to leave, Sy. You can't get me worked up with that kinda dirty talk." she kissed his cheek, and stood. "Walk me out?"

He did. And they stood holding one another in the dark, leaned up against her Explorer, Sy's back against the door, Shane's cheek on his bare, hairy chest, and the turning of the earth all but forgotten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had to stop thinking about him. About their dates and the time they'd spent together. But her schedule had fallen apart for the day due to a nasty storm that had blown in, she had no more education to work on for now, and she could only clean and organize her treatment room and desk so thoroughly.

She guessed…the secretaries knew she was available if need be…and she was salaried…what was the harm in texting Sy? She'd stayed late and came in early and overworked herself in general so much for this clinic. She could justify a bit of downtime.

Hey! Whatcha doin?

Just did some exercises that my super hot PT gave me! *winky face emoji*

Uh-Oh, should I be jealous?

Mmm, hard to say, sunshine. I guess it'll depend on which one of you sleeps with me first. *devil emoji*

Smart money is on the one who’s already let you get to second base…and basically third, even though…does it count if it’s basically because of a dare. Induced by Jack Daniels?

I think it counts if you came…*smirk emoji*

Damn those skilled fingers and Tennessee whiskey.

What can I say. I told ya I knew how to get a motor humming. *cool guy emoji*

You certainly do. No doubt about that.

So how's your day goin', sunshine?

Eh, everyone's cancelled on me. I have no one until 4:00, and I have nothing to do until then. I've decided to see it as a blessing and text my favorite fella.

And when he didn't respond, you resorted to me? *smirk emoji*

Hey you know that you have no competition for my affection other than like, my dad…and Chris Evans. Lol

Your dad, I'm sure I couldn't compete with if I tried, from what you've told me. Chris…well, I'm a REAL captain, not some guy jumpin' around in tights.

Mmmm, shame. I bet you'd look good in a getup like that. *heart eyes emoji*

You think so?

Yup! *American flag emoji*

You wanna be my Black Widow?

I mean…I've already basically got a costume…*embarrassed monkey emoji*

*several lines of big eye emojis*

Yeah, a few Halloweens ago…I was Romanoff. Now you know. I'm a total nerd.

I'm a nerd, too, sunshine. Serious nerd.

How am I just finding out about this? There's next to no merch at your place, and you never wear typical nerd shirts…*skeptical face emoji*

You haven't seen my whole place…*wink emoji*

What, are you telling me you have Batman bedsheets? *lol emoji*

Oh, it's much…much worse than that. The bedroom is pretty neutral, but…I have a…kind of rec room in the basement that is basically nerd central.

Oh. Em. Gee. I can't WAIT to see that, Sy!!! And how dare you hold out on me!!!

Well, I mean, I didn't wanna lay out all my cards right off the bat. I'm playing the long game.

Ah, so, when do I get to see this nerd trap?

Come on over, sunshine. *smiley face*

I said, I've got a patient at 4:00.

Everyone's cancelled on you. Can't you cancel on them for once?

Not unless I'm violently ill do I ever have any patients cancelled on my behalf.

So…say you're violently ill and come see me. *shrugging man emoji*

I dunno, Sy…

I got stuff to make that soup you like…

She had made it clear to him how much she loved soup, especially a good creamy potato soup, and on one of their dates, he'd had her over and there was a big pot of the stuff on his stove, made from scratch. She'd never had better, and he almost got lucky that night…and I mean…he still got a little lucky. He cooked for her AND cleaned up, AND let her pick the movie that night. She still picked an action movie, because she wasn't really a romance movie type, overall. Even so. Could she leave him hanging?

She opened her thread with Heather in her messenger app on her laptop.

Heather, is there anyone who could take my last patient, Mr. Lopez?

Looks like Cheri has a cancel around that time. Need me to move him?

If you could. I'm not feeling well.

Are you pregnant?

Omg, every fucking time. Why when anything is amiss in a woman's life must it be pregnancy?! And why is it okay to ask that question?! Ugh! She loved Heather like a sister, and it probably was just a joke, but uuuuuugh!

Yes…yes I am. *eye roll emoji* I've got a killer headache that's making me queasy. I'll email Susan. Thanks.

You bet. Tell Sy I said hi. *wink emoji*

Shut up.

After a quick and concise email to her boss, she picked her phone back up. One unread message.

You there, sunshine?

She simply replied,

Get that soup ready, Captain, I'm on my way.

Up Next: Chapter Eight: Heat/Ice

#netflix sand castle #sand castle #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #sigh for sy #smuttish #not full on smut

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19tozier · 4 years

Text

something human (richie tozier)

warnings: fluffy n sweet, 2019!richie x reader, assume this takes place before any events of chapter 2

based on the song something human by muse

[losers&reader are adults in this]

richie plasters a smile on his face, as wide as he absolutely can. the crowd is cheering for him, applauding and hooting and yelling, and it’s a sight that will never fail to make him feel warm. he’s worked his entire life for this, and it always feels good to have it pay off.

for now though, he’s drained, and all he can think about is the call he always looks forward to making when he gets backstage.

as soon as the curtains close, his smile drops, the bone-deep exhaustion making itself known. he goes through the motions of what’s expected of him: he drinks the water bottle thrown at him, he wipes his forehead on a towel he passes to some stagehand, and he only half-listens as his manager blabbers in his ear.

he manages to tune everyone and everything around him out until he’s safely in his dressing room, the door closed and no one to disturb him until he has to leave. it makes something in his chest loosen.

his phone is plugged in exactly where he left it, fully charged in anticipation for his routine. he picks it up and takes it off the charger, smiling at his lock screen.

it’s a picture of you and him from right before he’d left for this tour, sleepy and rumpled on the couch. you’re dressed in one of his sweaters, your cheek pressed into his neck as you smile for the camera. he’s pulling a goofy face, unable to keep serious even for a moment. it was one of the best nights he can remember in a long time.

the picture makes his heart feel three sizes too big, especially when he unlocks his phone to click on your contact. it only rings once before you answer it, breathless.

“hi, rich,” you murmur, your voice warm and bright and so deliriously happy to talk to him.

the tension in all of his muscles melts away at the sound of your voice, a tired but genuine smile creeping across his mouth. “hey there, angel,” he murmurs back, kicking his feet up onto the counter.

“how was your show?” you ask him, the same question you always ask, and you sound so soft and so sweet that richie almost has to scream.

he shakes his head even though you can’t see it. “same old, same old. got a lotta laughs tonight, you know how it is.” he pauses, thinking back to what he just performed. “the joke you wrote was the best part.”

you giggle, slightly breathless. “the one about your weird kink?”

he’s too warm at the sound of your voice to really take offense to your teasing of him, but he plays the part anyways. “yes, the one about my weird kink, asshole.” he rolls his eyes. “i still stand by the fact that just because i accidentally slipped into a voice one time does not mean i have a kink.”

you hum. he can hear the smile when you say, “sure, baby, whatever tickles your pickle.” you giggle to yourself.

he smirks. “well, darlin’, that would actually be you who—”

“richie!” you cut him off, laughing so hard you wheeze.

he can picture you in his mind: you’re probably curled up in the corner of the giant couch in the living room, some crime show paused on the tv. he knows you’re wearing one of his sweaters and some fuzzy socks, because the snapchat you sent him right before the show featured both. the phone is probably jammed against your ear and you’ve probably got a glass of wine sitting on the coffee table.

it sounds so cozy, and he knows it would be even cozier if he was there with you. all of a sudden, there’s a lump in his throat.

“i miss you so much, (y/n),” he rasps before he can stop himself. he usually tries not to break down like this, acutely aware that him being gone is already hard enough on you, but this time he can’t help it.

you’re silent for just a beat too long before you whisper, “i miss you too, rich.” the tears in your voice are painfully obvious. the mood from before has all but disappeared. “i miss you so much.”

richie swallows, trying to keep his composure. “only twenty more shows, doll. twenty-three more days, and then i’m right there with you.”

you sniffle and his heart breaks. “only three more weeks,” you repeat weakly. you sigh, the sound just barely loud enough for him to hear. “i hope they go by quickly.”

he sighs, letting his eyes fall shut. “me too, baby.”

he knows he doesn’t have long before he has to load onto the tour bus, and you’re probably just as exhausted as he is. it’s relatively late for you in LA and he feels bad keeping you up.

“i love you, angel,” he says, a bit desperately. he knows you know, the ring on your finger and the wedding on the horizon proof of that, but he’ll never get tired of telling you.

you make a soft sound, almost awed, and he’s lit up again by the reverent way you whisper, “i love you too, richie. i love you so much.”

he leans back, beginning to tell you some silly story of whatever happened that day. as he hears your giggles, he thinks, i really hope these next three weeks go by quickly.

***

it’s quiet in the apartment when richie lets himself in.

he’s certain it’s because you’re still asleep. it’s early in the morning after all, and you don’t know he’s home. as far as you’re concerned, his flight lands tonight. he didn’t tell you he’d managed to snag the last seat on a much earlier flight.

it’d been a hard tour, on both of you. this is the longest either of you have been apart, and his crazy schedule meant your phone calls after his shows were sometimes your only communication at all. it hurt to be away from you, but now he’s home, and he’s determined to stay at your side for as long as possible.

he smiles to himself, dropping his bags by the couch and gently placing his keys on the counter. he’ll deal with unpacking later, maybe after some kisses and a nap.

the bedroom door is slightly open when he gets to it, so it’s easy to push open without creating any noise. he quickly shuts it behind himself, not wanting the light from the windows in the hallway to wake you up and ruin his surprise.

he has to suppress his coo at how adorable you are, curled onto his side of the bed with your arms wrapped around his pillow. you’re only wearing one of his shirts and underwear, and it makes heat pool through richie’s veins. later, he tells himself.

quietly, he toes his shoes off and pulls off his jeans and jacket until he’s left only in a t-shirt and his boxers, much like you. only then does he let himself climb into bed beside you.

you don’t wake up immediately. you just scrunch your nose and murmur something unintelligible, rubbing your cheek against the pillow. it’s so adorable richie can’t help but reach out to cup your jaw, and that’s what finally wakes you up.

you blink your eyes open, disoriented, and you don’t really register that it’s richie in front of you for a couple of seconds. when you do, though, you gasp, quickly reaching out to pull him into your arms.

“what’re you doing home?” you breathe against his neck, holding him so tightly his ribs ache. he laughs into your skin. “i thought your flight wasn’t until later!”

he presses his lips to your forehead. “wanted to surprise ya, doll.”

his fingers won’t stop running up and down your back, and you’re so sleep-warm and soft that he feels his exhaustion begin to pull on him. you cuddle yourself even closer, leaning up to kiss him gently.

he hums against your mouth, fitting his hand to the back of your head to keep you there. it doesn’t lead anywhere, both of you too exhausted for much more, but it’s the thing he missed the most on tour. this simple intimacy with you, and the humanity of being in your arms. it’s more powerful than he will ever understand.

“i love you,” he mumbles into the kiss, tightening his hold around your waist. “i love you, i love you, i lo—“

“rich,” you laugh, pulling back to kiss his cheek. you gently take his glasses from his face and put them on the bedside table. the blurred smile on your face makes him more sleepy. “i know. i love you too.”

you snuggle back beneath his chin, your eyes already closing. he presses his mouth to your temple, holding it there as he, too, starts to drift off.

“i’m really glad you’re home,” you whisper into the quiet, your lips moving against his skin.

he smiles, pulling you closer. “me too, angel.”

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 3 years

Text

Protea (Part 14)

Azula’s mouth runs dry. “How so?”

Ursa shrugs. “Sometimes, a mother just knows.”

Azula lays back on the mattress, her head is dizzy with nerves, and stress, and hunger, and a dreadful concoction of other things. She supposes that it is just the nature of things for one misfortune to birthe many more of them.

“Am I mistaken?” Ursa asks.

There is hardly any sense in denying it, and maybe it would be much less painful to just come out with the truth. If even one person could know her secret. If even one person could help her carry the weight of it. “No.”

Ursa gives her a soft smile. “I didn’t think so.” Azula thinks that her mother might have chuckled. “I know my daughter…”

“No you don’t.” Azula says sharply, abruptly. The force of the fire these words ignite is enough to drive Snapdragon out in full.

She expects the woman to fervently deny it. Instead the woman offers a solemn nod. “I suppose that I don’t, not like I should.” And the flames cool just as rapidly. There is something respectable about an honest admission. “But I would like to. Mohi has been a good mother to you.”

Azula nods and Snapdragon trickles back in. Snapdragon is warmth and love and affection. Snapdragon is kindness and loving gestures and imperfections. Snapdragon has these things. She has Mohi and Mai and Zenyul. She had Kaz.

“I’m very grateful that someone has been a mother to you when I couldn’t be.” Ursa continues. Azula doesn’t jerk away this time when Ursa cups her hand upon hers. “I would like to be your mother now, if you’d let me.”

Azula thinks of pillow nests and stories and she suddenly finds it surprisingly hard to deny her. Isn’t this what she has been craving. What has been driving her mad and agonizing her for so, so long. What was one of many things that had driven her into the Forgetful Valley in the first place. She can only manage a small nod.

And Ursa’s...her mother’s smile is so warm. “Now I’m not much of a healer,” she looks to the swelling and bruising that only seems to be getting worse, “but I think that I can make this bed a little more cozy if you still like lots of pillows.”

She does, very much so. The mattress shifts with Ursa’s rising, there comes an almost instinctual urge to tell her not to leave for fear that she wouldn’t return despite knowing that she is only going across the hall. In her wake Ursa leaves behind a whirling sense of vertigo. A something that Azula has trouble fathoming despite all of her wit and know how.

Hope. Gentleness.

She rolls onto her side. The bruises throb and ache. She closes her eyes and tries to process everything. That they had imprisoned her, that she had been careless enough to get caught. That she might have ruined things between she and Mohi’s sons irreparably. That her mother, her real, by blood mother wants to take care of her. Somehow this is the most dizzying concept. Somehow it is the most frightening.

Ursa returns, her arms are overflowing with pillows and blankets. Yora trails behind her with another armful of pillows. “Once you get comfortable I can send for the healers.” Yora offers.

“Send for them now.” She anticipates it taking them a while to get here. Snapdragon is no one to fuss over and rush for.

Yora gives a soft smile and hands her the pillows. “I will.”

Azula begins arranging her pillows and blankets into a neat little nest, trying to leave ample space for the healers to do their work. She supposes that she will make it cozier when they are through with her.

“I am happy that things are going well between you and Mai. Though I always thought that your brother was the one who was fond of her.”

“He was, but he couldn’t keep her.” The off-handed remark slides from her tongue before she can stop it. It was a careless comment and she knows it by the flicker in her mother’s eye. Her stomach turns. The look passes but the fluttering remains.

“Your brother can be temperamental. Mai doesn’t seem like the type of person who would want to deal with that. She isn’t the most sensitive person…”

“She is. She just has trouble expressing it.”

Ursa’s face softens and she quirks a brow. “Are we still talking about Mai?”

Azula shrugs. She is certain that she has just answered the question despite having said nothing at all.

Ursa backtracks, “you love her very much, don’t you?”

Azula nods as she lays back once more. She cares for...she loves a lot of people. But, aside from Mohi, she isn’t sure that any of them love her. Not anymore anyhow. And she can’t really blame them. She is hard to love. Even as Snapdragon, she had baggage. A history. A list of streetfights, tantrums, and childish antics.

“I’m glad to hear it, I was worried. The way that your father was rasing you…”

And there it is--what she had been expecting to hear from the start. “You thought that I was going to be a monster. That I’m not able to love people.”

Ursa’s brows knit. “Oh no.” She frowns. “Azula, no, that isn’t what I think. I know that you can love people. I was just worried that your father was going to teach you to hide it and push everyone away.”

And she isn’t wrong. It is only because of Snapdragon that she knows she can love people. Her mother squeezes her hand, holds it tightly the way Mohi always had when she came home bruised and bloodied. If Mohi were here now, she would be pressing a rag to her scrapped knees and grumbling about how she ought to stop scaling occupied buildings.

“I would like to see Mohi.” Azula might as well have slapped her mother. It isn’t that she doesn’t want to patch things up with the woman, that she doesn’t want her company at all. But she doesn’t tend to her the way that Mohi does. Doesn’t know how to cheer her up.

The smile returns. “Don’t worry, I already sent someone to let her know that you are no longer in a cell and that she and her sons can come by.”

Azula considers that they don’t want to come and see her. Her mother is quiet for a long time. “You should tell them who you are. You should tell Mai too.”

“Kaz already knows.”

Ursa smiles, “that’s wonderful.”

“No. It isn’t.”

She inhales, “and you tried to fix things with him, didn’t you.”

“It didn’t work. Clearly.” She hugs one of the pillows to her chest. It is the softness and warmth that she could use.

For some reason, her mother still smiles, almost as though she is relieved. “You’re willing to go rather far for them, aren’t you?”

She supposes that she is. And maybe that is why father had worked so hard to shape her into someone ruthless and unfeeling. He knew that it would be the destruction of her if he didn’t. Firebenders are too passionate.

“It doesn’t matter. If Kaz is angry then so is Zenyul. Mohi won’t choose me over them, I’m not even her daughter.”

“I have a feeling that it is a little deeper than blood. A mother is a mother.” Ursa brushes Azula’s hair out of her face.

“Mai won’t take it well either.”

“Why would Mai be upset to know that her friend is still okay?”

“You’ve been gone for a long time, mother...”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Mai #Maizula #Fanfiction

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years

Text

Cross My Heart - CH.09

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean x Reader; Chuck Shurley x Reader

Summary: After opening up a letter, the life as she knows it, changes forever. Her husband hires Dean Winchester to protect her but is Dean really who he said he was? And is her husband really worried about her safety?

Warnings: Flangst

WC: 2145

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dean stops to pump gas after approximately an hour — she wouldn’t know exactly, time is a fucking construct nowadays — and goes into the store while she waits by the motorcycle. Y/N leaves her helmet on, just to be extra safe.

He comes out after a couple of minutes, and only then does she dare take her helmet off. She places it on the seat.

Dean still looks at her like she’s something fragile, which, given the circumstances, she maybe is. He hands her a chocolate bar. It’s dark chocolate, not really her favorite.

“Eat it. It’ll help calm you down.”

She can’t help but smirk at that, thinks it’s cute how he cares, but then realizes that he’s only doing his job. Which is her. And then she thought that Dean really did her too, she grins a little because she thinks she’s funny, which is really not the right time to be right now.

Y/N’s his job. Period. Because that’s what she is to him, isn’t she? Only a job and an added burden with them getting shot at.

Looking down, she nods and unwraps the chocolate, but before she can take a bite out of it, Dean pushes his fingers below her chin, tilts her head up to look at him, “Hey, everything alright?”

How can she tell him that everything’s not al-fucking-right? That her life’s a fucking mess and that she’s slowly but surely falling for someone who only sees her as a job? How can she tell that she’s scared shitless and that she won’t ever be able to fall asleep again without hearing bullets flying against the wall and into her home?

Instead of telling him all that, though, she nods, “Yeah, just never been in a shootout before.”

“It’s been a while for me either,” He huffs out a tired chuckle.

That’s right. He’s been deployed, has probably had a fair share of being shot at. She never asked him what he did, not that she doesn’t want to. It’s more that it doesn’t really matter to her who he was or what he did. What matters is that he’s here when she needs him the most.

There are scars, though. She’s seen them, even if the light was dim. She also felt them underneath the pad of her fingers.

Dean sighs before his hand comes up and he lets his thumb brush over her chin, thumbs at the corner of her lips and the crease between his eyebrows grow. Apparently, she’s a terrible liar.

He leans closer and speaks in his soothing husky voice, “I got you, okay? I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

She nods teary eyed, “Promise?” She wants to believe him.

Dean smiles. It’s wide and white, there are crinkles around his eyes, “Cross my heart.”

Leaning down, he steals a kiss, his lips are warm and soothing.

He waits for her to finish the chocolate bar so they can drive to wherever he takes her. She doesn’t really ask him anymore where they’re going, because she had made the choice and at this point, she’d follow him anywhere.

After about what felt like another hour's drive, they arrived at another safe house, hidden by another forest. The sun’s slowly coming up, there’s a hazy glow and the ground condenses, little patches of fog rise up.

If it wasn’t for her being on the run, she'd say that it’s beautiful here, that it’s picturesque and maybe if there are other circumstances surrounding her being here, she might even be able to enjoy it. But she swears, she’s already a little sick of the damn trees.

Dean halts his bike and waits for her to get off before he gets off it himself, and walks around to take the bags, places them on the ground. He then wordlessly wheels his bike behind the cabin.

She hears plastic, some leaves rattling. Didn’t dare to go look or follow him. She’s just too tired too and she stands there, waiting for him with her arms wrapped around herself. The mornings are cool and the effect of too little sleep makes her shiver to her bones.

About five minutes later — could be longer too, she wouldn’t know — Dean comes back, rubbing and brushing his hands against each other, a satisfying smirk decorating his face.

He comes to stand before her, towering over her, as he rubs at her arms and pulls her into a warm embrace, “You okay?”

She manages to nod, her teeth are already chattering together.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside before you freeze to death,” Dean places his warm lips on her forehead, before he picks up the bags from the ground, takes her hand to walk to the front of the cabin.

On the porch, Dean walks to the far right side, kneels down and opens a little trap door to take out a box. Inside of the box, he finds keys to the cabin.

They step inside and she takes in her surroundings. Everything looks almost the same as the previous cabin, only a little more modern, cozier, too. The sofa is bigger, the TV is the same as in the previous cabin, though.

“You want anything to drink? Or food?” His voice jerks her back to reality.

“No,” She says warily, “Thanks, I’m good.”

“The bedroom’s over there,” Dean jerks his head to the adjacent room while he walks into the kitchen to drop off things he bought at the store, “Go to bed, get some rest.”

She nods and makes her way to the bedroom with her backpack in hand. The bed’s bigger here. Could easily fit the both of them without her having to move too much out of the way. Not that she thinks he’s going to stay in the bedroom with her, though. She doesn’t really know where they stand after last night. Didn’t dare to ask because there are more important things right now. For example trying not to get killed.

Dropping her backpack into the closet, she takes off her jacket and shimmies out of her pants, climbs into bed, and covers herself with the blanket. She lies there on her side. Exhausted but not tired enough to fall asleep yet.

Dean walks in after a while, a mug of coffee in his hand. He slowly moves over, as if he wants to see if she’s sleeping yet and when he sees that she isn’t, he sits on the bed, on the side where she’s curled up, and places the mug on the bedside table.

“I don’t want coffee, thank you.” She mumbles.

“Who said it was for you?” He chuckles while his hand comes up to stroke at her head, tucking a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, “You should try to get some sleep, I’ll be in the living room, doing some paperwork.”

Y/N looks at him, her eyelids feel heavy, “Can you stay close?” She didn’t want to come across as needy but it’s hard because right now, that’s all she is. She wants him close, wants to know that he’s here to protect her.

“Of course,” There’s a warm smile on his face. It came out too quick. Like he didn’t even need to think about it at all, “I’ll just get my laptop.”

Dean takes the mug and walks out, only to return with the laptop in his other hand. He takes off his shoes and gets into bed, too, sits with his back to the headboard and she turns herself the other way, curls up next to him.

He strokes her hair back, “Sleep, okay?”

She nods, her eyes are already closing.

Y/N wakes to something heavy draped over her body.

The sun is bright in the sky, she guesses that it’s mid afternoon. Not that the time of day matters, since recently, one day blends into another fucked up day.

She blinks the sleep out of her eyes before she looks down on herself, sees the source of the thing that crushes her.

The heavy thing is Dean’s arm.

He’s sleeping soundly, one hand protectively draped over her. She stirs a little and that was already enough to wake him. God, he’s such a light sleeper. So jumpy all the time.

Dean lifts his head alarmed and looks around, but soon lets it fall back onto the pillow and closes his eyes again when he sees that it’s her.

“I thought you were going to be working?” She says teasingly.

He squints one eye open, his voice is raspy and full of sleep when he speaks, “You looked so peaceful, and then you started to talk in your sleep.”

“I did?” Her cheeks feel warm, and she’s a little embarrassed.

“Yeah, you trashed around and called out my name. I had to hold you down and then I couldn’t resist falling asleep either.”

Y/N blushes. She called out his name? She wishes the bed would open up and swallow her whole.

Dean hand goes under the blanket, finds her waist, and pulls her closer into him. He kisses her forehead, “No matter how hard I try, I can’t resist you. No matter how professional I try to keep things between us, I fail, because one look at you and my walls come crashing down.”

Her heart beats ridiculously fast upon hearing him say those words. Just when she opens her mouth to say something. Opens them up to tell him that it’s okay, that she welcomes it when he isn’t going all bodyguard on her. That she feels the same and wouldn’t want him to go back to being professional— his phone rings.

He tilts his body, reaches for it blindly, his hands search on the nightstand and when he finds it and looks at the caller ID, he frowns a little. Dean holds it out, shows it to her.

Chuck.

Dean picks up and puts Chuck on speaker. She knows that it’s also his way of reassuring her that he isn’t behind any of Chuck’s plans.

“Hello?” Dean’s voice is still raspy and he clears his throat.

“Mr. Winchester, I didn’t get a text this morning and am worried!”

Chuck sounds weird, his voice is a little higher than usual. But she can’t miss the annoyance in it.

Dean places the phone between them, turns to brace himself on his elbow, “Yeah, uh, I’m sorry, sir. Everything’s fine. We are alright. I was out at the store because we were running out of food.”

There’s a long awkward pause until Chuck talks again, “Okay,”

“I don’t have to remind you that you should be careful, do I?”

“No, sir.”

She can see the tense in Dean’s shoulder. And really, who is he to tell Dean how to act? Chuck crosses the line but that’s so typical.

“Good,”

“Do you have any news for us?” Dean asks and looks at her.

“News? Uh.. no, there’s still none. You stay put.”

“Of course,”

“Report back to me, Mr. Winchester.”

Chuck hangs up before Dean could say anything. And he didn’t ask about her once.

“Wow,” She huffs out hot air, “Do you think he knows?”

Dean rolls on his stomach towards her, pushes himself up on his elbows. He looks at her and chuckles, “You mean about us?”

Us.

She tries not to get too excited at the mention.

Y/N groans and rolls her eyes, “Duh,”

“No, and he doesn’t seem to care about you one bit anyway,” Dean says and she knows that he’s right.

Dean gnaws on his bottom lip, his face deep in thoughts. He’s thinking of something and she thinks she knows what bothers him.

“You think he knows about the shooting,” She states as a matter of fact.

He breathes out, pinches at the bridge of his nose, “There’s something fishy about it, yeah.” He leans down, kisses her gently, “And I absolutely hate how he treats you.”

Before she can say anything, Dean pushes himself up on his knees, runs a hand through his hair, “I mean, he usually doesn’t even care if I miss on some texts. Why care now? He also never calls. Good thing he doesn’t know that we changed our house yet. I’d like to keep it a secret for a little while longer.”

Getting off the bed, he reaches under the blanket, and searches for her legs. When he finds them, he pulls at them with one swift motion, making her shift down until her feet are dangling off the edge.

He inspects her calf, “We need to change the bandage.” And then with the next breath he says, “Come on, let's fix you up and find something to eat before I eat you up.”

Well, she can’t say that she would mind if he does.

CH.10

#cross my heart #dean winchester #bodyguard!dean #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fan fic #nathalie writes

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justreadingfics · 4 years

Text

Looking For A Heartbeat (23/26)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. It’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

Word Count: 7K

Warnings for this chapter: angst and an author that really doesn’t wanna spoil anything. If there’s anything you absolutely can’t read and you wanna make sure it’s not in the chapter, dm me.

A/N: Thank you @suz-123 for being so amazing. I’m finally with my new laptop so I hope to be able to write more frequently. I’m really sorry for being such a messy and slow writer, but thank you for staying with me. I really hope you like this chapter, it’s a special one!

Perfect.

That’s the conclusion you come to while you walk around the terrace of your apartment, filled with balloons, happy birthday signs, a huge table with cake and all kinds of colored sweets, matching the Unicorn theme decorations and a lot of different toys.

Summer’s first birthday.

Looking back, you can’t believe it’s already been a year, it feels like everything is happening too fast. A lot of firsts happened in that time: her first tooth, the first time she crawled towards Bucky, her first haircut, the first word… That was a special one. The three of you were in the living room and the TV was on while you and Bucky played with her on the carpet. At some point, your baby daughter´s attention diverted from the toys and she pointed at the TV, and a perfectly pronounced “mama” came out of her lips. You and Bucky looked at each other with widened eyes, and, while she kept repeating her very first word, you turned around to see your image on the TV, dirty and battered, at a press conference after a particularly tough mission. Needless to say, your heart turned into a puddle and you attacked her chubby cheeks with thousands of kisses pulling out giggles from the baby. You could tell daddy was happy but a little bit jealous, just a little bit… however, only a couple of days after and she added “dada” to her vocabulary, making a crying mess of her softie dad.

The one first thing she has yet to go through is her first step. She’ll get there, though. No need to rush. Dr. Nadine has explained more than once that her enhanced DNA could show how far it would affect her abilities at any moment throughout her development and they had no way to estimate exactly how and if it would happen. For now, you’re thankful she’s a healthy baby and has her own pace on things.

You can’t wait to see her little face when she sees her first party. You and Bucky decided to go for the unicorn theme because that stuffed unicorn, the first one Bucky got her when she wasn't even born yet, it’s her absolute favorite and they're inseparable. The poor thing is old, dirty and torn in one too many places, but when you tried to replace it with a brand new one, all you gained in return was tears and a very irate baby.

Yeah, she’ll love it.

As you supervise the last details, checking if the decorations, music, food and drinks are all set and waiting for the guests, Bucky gets Summer ready. She's slept all morning so hopefully she´ll enjoy her party properly. You decided to celebrate it at your own home, since it’s big enough to accommodate the number of guests and, at the same time, it’s cozier than the party rooms available at the Tower. You opened the living room’s glass doors, which goes to the terrace, moved the furniture to allow more space and it worked out pretty well. It’ll be good, you’re confident.

The timing is also perfect since the team does need some good distraction… the last month has been tough. Zemo got out of prison and everything led you guys to believe HYDRA is behind it and helping him hide. At what purpose you still have to figure out. But the thing is, there’s nothing on his whereabouts yet and, in the meantime, you and your friends will stop everything to celebrate your little girl’s first year.

“Hey, mama! Look who’s ready to shine.”

You’re organizing cone hats over the table at the terrace when our gaze lifts to Bucky walking into the living room holding the cutest – and most dolled up - baby you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, my God.” You cover your mouth with both hands and rush to meet them, “Aren’t you the most beautiful birthday girl ever?” You take Summer in your arms while gushing at her.

She brings her hands to the pair of pigtails over her head, as if to show you them, “Dada,” she happily babbles.

The two proud parents laugh and Bucky pecks her cheek to her absolute delight.

“Yes, Dada made your hair really pretty and chose you the most gorgeous outfit, hasn’t he?” She does look incredibly endearing in a pink tutu dress with a few shades of blue on the skirt alluding to the party, blue little party shoes matching the two tiny bows adorning her pigtails. Bucky always makes sure to pamper her and on her first birthday you expected nothing less.

“She looks cute anyway.” He shrugs, but the pride is obvious on his smile and puffed chest. “You look beautiful, too.” He adds softly as his eyes drop to the floral summer dress you chose for the occasion.

You swallow as a wave of warmth reaches your cheeks, “You, too.” He sure does handsome as ever in his customary jeans and white t-shirt. Despite still not going to missions, he keeps his daily workouts, whose results are evident on the muscles straining the fabric covering his arms and chest. Since Summer loves to play with his hair – a preference she may have gotten from you - he’s been keeping his locks in a longer length, right above his shoulders. God, he’s beautiful.

“One year… can you believe it?” He says softly, taking you out of your gawking and stepping closer, bringing his hand over yours on Summer’s back.

You sigh deeply at the warm touch before whispering, “One year…”

“I don't remember ever being this happy…” His voice is tender and low while he speaks, “Looks like we’ve made it, right? Together.” He bores his deeply blue eyes on yours while slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

You sigh and tighten your lips in a small smile as his touch sends shivers through your skin. You don’t remember ever being this happy either but you’ve been thinking more and more about what Wanda said at Pepper’s party. What exactly have you been doing all this time? What are you? A couple? Friends? Co-parents? To be honest, you think you’ve been leaning a lot on the excuse of parenting Summer to not address and hold back your true feelings and, at the same time, to stay close to him as much as you can… How long can you keep up with this?

A loud squeak makes you notice Summer squirming in your arms. You know exactly what she wants, “Ahm, I think I’ll nurse her before everyone arrives, or else she’ll get too agitated,” you say and Bucky nods in agreement, seeming lost on his own thoughts as well.

~~~

It's a cheerful and loud afternoon. All your friends are there, along with some parents with their kids, whom you and Bucky have met when you started taking Summer to the nearest park regularly. You do it mostly together, but when you are on missions he goes alone and Summer, being as sociable and lovely as she can be, has become fast friends with a lot of kids, even the older ones, so it made sense to you to invite everyone who loves her to the party.

Speaking of the little girl, after you nursed her and the guests started arriving, you almost don’t get to hold her anymore, as she goes from lap to lap when she’s not playing with her friends or attached to Thor’s hips. The God of Thunder stopped by just to attend her party, which makes her so happy, reaching out for him to grab her and pointing to all kinds of directions so he can take her and also play with her friends, for all the kids delight. It’s like the one year old just knows he’s everyone’s favorite and wants to share her uncle with them.

Harry and the twins are there, too, being some of the firsts guests to arrive. It turns out Bucky was the only one who didn’t know about Harry and Nat. Everyone had already caught on when they decided to make it official and it was absolutely no big news. Even for the now five year old twins. Luna just couldn’t understand why they were treating something she already knew for so long as such a big deal when the couple put on a special picnic to tell them. Auntie Nat was very proud and, for her relief and Harry’s, she has been a success with both Luna and Jon.

The party has been going on for a little more than an hour when you finally get to pick Summer up to check if she needs a change or something to eat or drink. Across the room, you spot Bucky talking to Steve. Seeing you picking up Summer, he raises his eyebrows as if asking if he was needed. You dismiss him with a wave and he smiles, while you sit on the couch, Summer in your arms. The bell rings and, as you make sure Summer doesn’t need a change yet, putting her standing on your lap and taking a peek beneath her diaper while the one-year old babbles and bounces on her chubby legs, Bucky goes for the door. You can’t imagine who it might be, since everyone you remember inviting is already there.

“Hey, you made it.” Bucky greets the person in front of him.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Your heart and your hands stop at the voice you haven’t heard for a long time.

Your gaze follows the sounds of cheerful greeting and meet the sight by the door. Everything and everyone else around fade out as the two of them say hello to each other and Bucky invites her in.

Anna.

He doesn’t seem surprised by her presence. He seems… comfortable. Even…happy to see her. Did he invite her? Without telling you? When?

You don’t even know how, but you’re already standing up, Summer securely attached to your hip, when the pair starts walking towards you, huge smiles on their faces.

“Here’s the birthday girl,” Bucky announces when they approach you. They’re both smiling still so you put on one for yourself. Or at least you try to, if you succeed you’re not sure. Bucky seems relaxed… you see no disturbance on his demeanor despite the turmoil surfacing inside you, nothing that could hint he is as thrown as you are by Anna’s unexpected – at least for you- presence.

“Hello, happy birthday, Summer.”

It’s nothing but a reflex when you hold Summer tighter in your arms and take a tiny, almost unnoticeable step back when Anna stretches her arms with a wrapped box on her hands and greets your daughter. Her wide smile slips a bit as her widening gaze flashes up at you.

It seems like your step back wasn’t as tiny and unnoticeable for her.

“Ahm, hi, Anna.” You force a calm voice out of you, “Thank you so much,” You reach for the gift, “I’ll put it with the other ones for Summer to open in a bit.” You nod as a vein pulses on your neck, “Ahm, it’s been a while.” You add, trying hard to keep your voice steady.

Summer starts smacking the box repeatedly as delighted loud sounds come out of her lips, making her dad smile at her and move to cup her cheek lovingly. Both dad and daughter oblivious to the tension thickening the air.

Anna’s eyelids drop and her gaze grounds to the floor. She nibbles on her lower lip, fidgeting with her fingers…thinking… it feels like she’s searching for something to say but is failing…

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky says, still focusing on Summer as she succeeds to steal the box with Anna’s gift from your hands and starts shaking it. “I ran into Anna in that coffee shop nearby the park the other day, can you believe that? It was two or three weeks ago, you were on that mission with Sam. I thought I had told you, haven’t I?” He looks at you and tilts his head to the side.

“No, no you didn’t”. Your stare is hard on him, but you don’t care.

“Oh,” it slips out of his lips as his eyebrows furrow.

“Y/n, I thought you knew, I can-”

“You don’t need to worry, Anna.” You interrupt her attempt to say something. “It’s just that I…I was just surprised to see you… that’s all.” You try to form a kind smile on your face. This is your kid’s first party, you really don’t want to ruin it by making a scene or forcing someone to leave. Even if this someone is Anna, a woman who makes your hands shake and your spine freeze with pure… Fuck… It’s irrational and a little unfair, but it is what it is, “You make yourself at home.” You nod, keeping the smile tight in your face.

She seems like she is going to protest when a couple of agents of SHIELD, that certainly must’ve been friends with her when she worked there calls her from across the room. Anna shoots you an apologetic look before thanking you and walking over them. Without actually addressing to Bucky in any way again.

“Hey-” Bucky starts when she’s out of reach.

“It’s almost time for presents and cake,” You cut him, “I’m gonna give Summer something to eat so she doesn’t get cranky.”

“Alright,” he nods, “Let me-”

“It’s ok.” You raise a hand when he moves to grab Summer, “You go entertain your guests.” The harsh words slip out without warning, sheer venom lacing your tongue. The words are bitter, because that’s exactly how you’re feeling. You ignore the crease between Bucky’s eyebrows to strut towards Nat and Harry at the terrace, not giving him space to say anything else.

Bitterness and coldness are all you present him with every single time he tries to interact with you after that moment. You can’t help yourself. You’re mad, angry, disappointed, you feel sick in your stomach, you wanna scream, you’re… you’re jealous. You’re damn jealous, not that you’re proud of it, but you are. You know you have no right to feel that way… but then again, don’t you really? Shouldn’t he have told you he met Anna after all that time? Let alone that he invited her to your daughter’s first birthday? Why didn’t he? Was that just it? Just a casual encounter? Or maybe he was in touch with her all this time? He had never mentioned her again… And no, you’re not in a romantic relationship with him but what you have built so far together had to mean something… He should’ve told you. It’s about respect… nothing else.

No matter how much you fight it, your gaze always ends up seeking for her. You dismiss all questions of concern from mostly Wanda and Nat. It’s fine, you lie. To Anna’s credit, though, she keeps it to herself. You’ve spot some of your friends greeting her, but she stays next to the SHIELD agents most of the time and doesn’t approach Bucky again. You hate to allow all this situation to somehow taint the experience of your daughter’s first birthday and therefore you’re even madder at Bucky, no matter how childish it makes you seem.

“Anna is what I need…She’s the one for me.”

Even after everything that transpired afterwards, you’ve never forgotten those words he said to you that night. The night he chose Anna. Those are the words repeating in your brain now and breaking your heart all over again, bringing out memories of nights spent awake thinking about him and her together, holding each other. The damn terror that he finally comes to his senses, again, and realizes that, indeed, she’s the one for him, lodges itself in your chest again.

The words keep haunting your mind while everyone gathers to watch Summer opening the presents. You and Bucky side by side as the gifts are delivered to your daughter on his lap. The little girl, by the way, seems much more interested in the papers and bags rather than the actual presents inside, playing and trying to hold all of them at once. That makes your heavy heart a bit lighter as you giggle at her antics. You try not to think too much of how Bucky seems to insistently gain your attention and you never engage fully when he tries to share a word or a laugh with you.

After all the presents are opened, Summer is enjoying herself with some of her friends, finally giving her new toys a chance with Bucky’s close supervision. You decide it's almost time for the cake and go to the kitchen to pick it up from the fridge.

“Y/N?”

You’re closing the fridge’s door with your elbow, huge chocolate cake in hands when Anna quietly calls your name. Not really expecting to have to talk to her again, the breath catches in your throat before you turn around to see her.

“Oh, do you need help?” She steps to you when she spots the cake in your hands.

“It’s ok. It’s not as heavy as it looks.” You quickly dismiss her offer. Does she want something? Why has she followed you to the kitchen?

She halts, “Ahm, Can I talk to you for a second?”

You use a moment to take a good look at her. Her plunged shoulders make her seem small as she looks up at you through her eyelashes expectantly, almost sheepishly. She’s nervous. You sigh and step forwards to carefully place the cake on the balcony. There are plenty of stools for both of you to take a seat, but you prefer to keep standing up when you nod at her, “Sure.”

“I’m sorry for today,” She doesn’t take a breath before speaking, “I really thought Bucky had told you. Like he said, we ran against each other on a coffee shop, I don’t even remember which one. He walked in to use the bathroom, he needed to change Summer or something.” She narrows her eyebrows before her features softens, “She’s beautiful by the way… ahm, we hadn’t seen each other for a long time and he stopped to talk for a bit. It was five minutes. He mentioned Summer’s birthday and ended up inviting me to come. I-I, he seemed so carefree and casual, I thought it wouldn’t be a problem If I dropped by… I really missed everyone and…” Her head drops as she sighs deeply, “I should’ve thought things through better.

You let her words sink in. She talked fast, urgently. The way she keeps looking back at you, pleading…It seems important for her that you believe what she’s saying and, in fact, you do.

“It’s ok, Anna.” You relent, letting your posture lose the stiffness, “I mean… I’m not gonna pretend I expected to see you here… but I… I just wish he would’ve told me beforehand…” You admit in a murmur, choosing to omit the part where her presence made you jealous as fuck. You’re not sure if Anna is aware of what’s the status of your relationship with Bucky and you rather keep it that way for some reason.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.” She says, waving both her hands and taking a step forward, “He might have just forgotten. I know planning a birthday party is a lot…”

Even if you’re now assured that they haven’t been meeting and it was just a casual encounter and despite her trying to soothe you and justify his omission, you’re not convinced. The fact he hasn’t told you anything still bothers the hell out of you, “Anyway…” You shake your head dismissively, “Don’t worry, it’s fine, Anna. So, how’ve you been doing?” You’re not sure exactly why you’re asking it, maybe to try and make the tension still lingering a little easier to bear.

Her lips open and her brows raise. Anna sure wasn’t expecting your question, either, “Oh…yeah, I’m good. it’s been a good year actually,” She licks her lips, “I stopped practicing, have been focused on studying… I’m engaged.” She lifts her hand, showing the beautiful diamond on her finger.

Your jaw drops. How the hell haven’t you seen this?

“Oh, wow, congratulations.” You greet, sounding as stunned as you really are.

“I’ve met him during PHD classes.” The smile on her lips is easy and dreaming, “He proposed in three months, my Jeromy. Seems a bit rushed, but when you know, you know, right?” She shrugs.

For the first time since she walked through the door of your home, you don’t have to force it when you smile at her. She’s right. When you know you know, even if, sometimes, pretending you don’t seems easier…

“Bucky invited him, too, but he’s giving a lecture now.” She informs.

Silence falls back between you two. After the news of her engagement – which helps to ease down the tension a bit more- you don’t know what else to say to her, but she seems like she’s not done yet. She places her hand on the back pockets of her jeans, and takes in a long breath as her eyes drop to the floor before she speaks again.

“Listen Y’/N, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you for a very long time…” She looks up at you.

You tilt your head, encouraging her to go on.

“I’m sorry for that day…” Anna murmurs, “For coming saying all those things to you before… before you got into the accident.” She swallows.

Oh…that.

“Anna…” you try.

“No, really.” She insists, “I know you don’t blame me. Bucky told me as much the last time we spoke when you were still pregnant. Maybe I didn’t directly cause the accident, but I shouldn’t have come, anyway.” The regret is heavy on her voice, “I tried to manipulate a situation in favor of my own interests with the excuse I was doing it for Bucky. Now I can see that and how messed up it was. I’m sorry.”

You see the guilt still tormenting her. You never really think about that accident anymore and you can see it still haunts her. And, after all, coming to talk to you that day and everything else… you know she was in love with Bucky. It was stupid, but who are you to judge, anyway. Anna ended up caught up in the mess of you and Bucky. Suddenly you feel a little bad for how you’ve been acting today. You know she’s not a threat, even if you can’t help but still dread what she somehow represents to you: that, maybe, there’s something or someone else out there better for Bucky and he can leave you, or whatever this is what you have, can end at any moment.

“We all make mistakes, Anna.” Your answer is firm, “And, yes, I really don’t blame you. What happened, happened, and it’s in the past. Everything turned out fine.”

A loud squeal catches both of your attentions and through the opened door, you see Bucky throwing Summer to the air as the little one screams with sheer joy. His smile just as big as hers.

“I’m so glad he’s that happy. He deserves it.” Anna grins, when she turns back to you.

Your gaze remains stuck on your little family. He really is happy. And so are you… even if it’s not complete and you’ve been denying yourself an attempt of being fully happy beside him by admitting how much you still love him and need him by your side as more than Summer’s father. What you already achieved with him is more than you’ve ever dreamed of after running away like you did all these years ago. The thought of anything ruining this happiness, whether someone else or your own stupidity, makes it hard for you to breathe.

“Anyway, I guess it’s better if I go now.” Anna cuts through the small silence.

“Oh, no, Anna.” You quickly protest, turning your gaze back to her, “It’s time for the cake. Stay. It’s ok, really.” You softly assure her, “To be honest, I could actually use some help, Steve ordered like 3 tons of cake here.”

You offer her a smile, which she kindly accepts by answering you with one of her own and a small thankful nod.

~~~~

It’s already dark when the last guests say goodbye. After striking up a battle with sleep to keep playing, Summer finally lost to exhaustion and passed out on Steve’s lap. Now, after cleaning everything up with the help of your friends, you’re at last relaxing on one of the loungers in your terrace eating a piece of the cake, while Bucky gives Summer a bath and puts her to sleep. Since she’s a heavy sleeper and almost nothing wakes her up after she dozes off, it is not uncommon for you two to bathe or change her while the little girl sleeps like a rock.

All in all, it was a good day. After your talk with Anna you were able to properly enjoy the rest of the party. Watching Summer clapping her little hands along with everyone else while they sang her happy birthday will always be held in your heart. Summer had a blast on her first birthday, even if she still doesn’t really get the meaning of it. Everything was worth it.

But now, that the buzz of the party is gone and you find yourself alone with your thoughts, that ugly, toxic feeling comes back to bite the pit of your stomach. You can only define it as jealousy and… and fear. Both feelings holding a grasp around your throat… slowly taking the air out of your lungs…suffocating you. You haven’t really talked to Bucky again at the party…Why didn’t he tell you about meeting Anna, about inviting her?

Yeah, you’re still damn annoyed.

You hear his steps when he walks into the terrace, but you don’t turn to him. You don’t move from your spot, staring ahead to the skyline through the glass windows when he sits on the lounger beside you and places the baby monitor – which, by the way, is Friday showing the image of you daughter peacefully sleeping on her crib - on the small round table between you two.

“She was exhausted, slept while I bathed her, but kept clapping her hands. She might’ve been dreaming... it was so cute,” He chuckles quietly, and continues when you just hum an answer and don’t look at him, “She didn’t even stir when I put on her pjs, and you know how much she hates putting on her pjs. She’ll probably sleep late tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” You answer plainly, shoving a huge piece of cake in your mouth.

“It was a great first party wasn’t it?”

You scoff, swallowing the cake and biting your tongue to just don’t spit the growing irritation inside you all over him, “For the most part, yeah.”

“Are you ok?”

From the corner of your eyes, you catch him leaning over to be able to see your face, since you have yet to look at him.

“I’m fine.” You grumble.

“Ok, it’s just that…I’ve noticed you were a little off-”

“Oh, have you?” Your face snaps to him, “What a perceptive genius you are.”

“Oh, hey…Where is that coming from?”

“You invited Anna?” You finally let it out of your chest, desperate to finally let loose the grip on your throat, “I haven’t heard a single word from her for more than one year and then she comes to our daughter's first birthday party? Have you been seeing her?” You know he hasn’t, you know that, but you can’t control your tongue, you want this fight. For some reason, you want to fight him, yell at him. Even hurt him.

“What? No, of course not, I-”

“Don’t tell me. You don’t need to say anything.” You swiftly get up, stomping your feet, as the plate with the cake makes a tingling noise for being roughly placed on the table next to the baby monitor, “Forget I said anything. You don’t owe me an explanation, it’s not like we have anything to do with each other-”

“Hey, hey, what the hell?” When you try to storm your way passed him, he stands up and grabs you by the arm and you jerk back before he turns you to him. Your face is so close to his, your bodies only an inch from each other, you feel the warmth rolling off of him to you. Your angry heart beats faster and when he tries to pull you even closer to him you smack him across his chest. “I haven’t been seeing Anna.” He continues, gaze fixed on you, unfazed by your attempt to shove him away. “I’ve met her by chance the other day, Summer played with her, Anna asked how old she was and I ended up inviting her to drop by, I didn’t even think-”

“What? You didn’t even think of me?” You challenge, raising your chin up, “You could’ve told me, Bucky,” The defiance sweeps into your voice. But you don’t try to get away from his touch again. It burns you in a much too familiar and longed way.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pleads, “But do you wanna know why I didn’t tell you?” His eyes are frantic, roaming around every inch of your face, “I forgot. I just forgot because it didn’t feel important at all. Seeing Anna again didn’t mean anything… it was like meeting someone I used to know a very long time ago and that was all that it was… a turned page of my life. Summer was there and we were in the middle of planning the birthday, I just invited her… I didn’t even think about it again, but If I knew it would make you so upset, I would’ve never done this. I’m sorry.”

His eyes settle on yours. Even if his look is still filled with despair, just like his words, beg for you to understand, it somehow calms you. The fear that has been making your heart shrink, that the encounter with Anna had maybe awakened something inside him, a realization that he deserves more than you… that fear fades, allowing you to take in a deep breath, “Ok… ok. I have no right to be upset,” Your eyes shut, “I just…”

“I didn’t even think of you? We don’t have anything to do with each other?” The hold on you becomes stronger as he turns your own phrases into offended questions and you look back at him while his eyes narrow, “Why would you say that when you mean everything to me and you’re what I think about all the fucking time?”

Your heartbeats are loud in your ears as your knees buckle, “Bucky…” you breathe, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. His eyes flutter close and he leans against you. Your chest could explode at his admission… Not once in the last year of spending almost all the time together he had said something like that to you. That Wanda’s question creeps up to your mind again, “Bucky,” you call, and his eyes open to you, “What the hell are we even doing here?” You ask softly as tears well up in your eyes.

“What do you mean?” He asks, letting go of your arm to wipe one tear of the corner of your eyes with the back of his finger.

“This.” You cease the touch on his face and step back, waving back and forth between you two, “This whole year? You never… you never said anything like that.” Your voice comes out tiny, “I’m the one to ask. What do you mean by it? This life… What are we doing? What the hell are we?”

For a moment he just looks at you, breathing… thinking…“I don’t know.” He says, “We’re us, I guess.” He steps forward, making the distance you’ve just added between you two smaller, “I don’t know if what we’re doing is right, if we’re fooling ourselves… all I know is that this is where I belong. With you. With Summer...”

Your gaze drops. That’s it. Summer. She’s yours and his whole world and she’s the only thing holding him with-

“With you, baby…” He speaks quickly as if he’s reading your mind while both of his hands cup your face. The contrast between warm skin and cold metal you love so much because it means it’s him “I belong with you… This whole year… this whole time there wasn’t a minute when I didn’t think about kissing you.”

You hold your breath when he rushes a bit forward but halts, like he’s holding back the impulse to kiss you. He licks his lips, burying his eyes into yours. A single tear rolled down his cheek, “I buried everything inside me because what if you didn’t want this… what if I scared you again… what if you left me? If you leave me-”

He couldn't finish his sentence because your lean forward and capture his lips into yours. What if you leave him? Is this what he’s been thinking? You’ll show him, you’ll show him…

He kisses you back instantly. And of course the kiss is desperate, of course is eager and sloppy, because that’s what you both are now. Desperate to show each other everything you two have been keeping inside this whole year. All the want… all the desire, the need. The love. All of you.

Metal hand drops to your waist and pulls you to him while the flesh one rests on the back of your neck. But they don’t lodge there for long as they run all over your body. Fast… Hard. He pushes his tongue through your lips and you fist the fabric of his shirt on his back with one hand while the other snakes up and digs on his loose locks. God, you missed him. You missed this. It’s old, it’s home but also it’s like something you never tasted before. A relearned love.

Without parting your lips from his you step forward and he follows your lead, stepping back till his knees meet the side of the lounger. You break the kiss only for a second before pushing him backwards so he can sit on it. Sheer want rules your moves when you quickly straddle him and close your lips around his again. A whimper sweeps into your mouth when he grabs your ass. Your body move on its own when you rock into him. Feeling all of him. Hard and longing for you against your core, setting it to flames.

A hand of yours dips beneath his shirt, roaming over that enticing path of little hairs right above his pants before your nails scratches up higher on his broad body. With a gasp, he breaks apart from your lips, only to drag his mouth down your jaw and neck. Licking and sucking and biting… Marking you as you hiss in delightful pain, a kind of pain that can soothe the ache of not having him for so long.

“I love you,” His voice is rough and breathless when he whispers against your heated skin, as lips kiss and hands and fingers touch, stroke, grab. “I’ve loved you for so long, baby.” He reaches your ear with his lips and you pull his locks harder.

“God, I love you too.” You’re a mess of tears, smiles and soft whimpers as you keep kissing and touching him, never wanting to stop, wishing that you could somehow imprint his body and soul into yours and never let go.

“There’s no one else for me. I was so stupid…” He whispers, “I love you. I love you.” He repeats, between soft and long kisses on your neck, “Only you. All this time, all I ever wanted was you… There’s no one else. You don’t have to be jealous…” His grips on your body becomes impossibly stronger, “I was so scared, so damn scared…”

Something triggers inside you. A somber feeling that makes you stiffen. He continues ravishing your neck and cheeks and earlobes but you don’t respond anymore, widened eyes staring forward at the wall behind him and when he seeks for your mouth again you pushed him back. Ignoring the frown on his face and without any word you pull away from his lap and turn your back on him.

He follows you shortly and gently places his hands on your shoulders, “What’s wrong, baby?”

You can hear the impending fear in his voice.

You can’t do this.

“We can’t do this, Bucky.” You give voice to your mind and you can feel how he stiffens behind you so you turn to face him. You need him to understand. His stare is fixed on you, swollen lips from kissing parted… his eyes close for a moment as if trying to process what you just said after admitting you love him.

You breathe in the courage to say what you must, “Here I was thinking we were tracing a new path, that we were finally reaching that peace you always said you wanted but I know you couldn’t find it with me, and then…” You scoff, staring away for a moment, “and then I get jealous and we fight… We haven’t fought for so long… We were at peace. I love you, I do.” You assure, pleading for him to understand, “I love you so much, sometimes is hard to even breathe when I look at you, but… but… We shouldn’t do this. We’re filled with imperfections. We can’t do this. What if we hurt each other… What if I hurt you again,” You can’t stand that thought, “I’m not… I’m not perfect.”

His stare is undecipherable as he keeps it fixed on you. You love him, you really do, but would you two be able to write a different story, one that won’t bring hurt and pain upon the both of you? Upon Summer? You know you have been doing good so far, but both of you admitted you’ve been holding back for the sake of your peace… what happens when you let all your feelings loose?

He takes in a deep sigh before tilting his head to the side and bringing a hand to slowly scratch his beard. When he looks back at you a small smile curls up his lips.

You hold your breath.

“I’ve stayed away from you for two years and not a single moment I was at peace.” He says. With no rush, no desperation. What you hear into his soft voice is a quiet sense of realization. “I’ve been lying to myself… first I thought I could find peace and love elsewhere. Didn’t happen.” He chuckles. How can he be so calm? “Then I told myself that just staying next to you, without expressing how I really felt, what you really mean to me, would be enough, but tonight, fighting with you? Seeing how much you still love me? Kissing you…having your body close to mine once again…” You take in a shuddering breath as he speaks, no trouble, no sign of doubt on his speech, “I was never more at peace than tonight… You’re it, baby.” He licks his lips and shakes his head, “I don’t wanna lie to myself anymore. I don’t wanna lie to you. I know you’re not perfect, I don’t expect you to be. I’m not perfect either, I’m far from it. But I love you and you love me.” He pauses, waiting for you to deny him, but you don’t, how can you? “And love, my dear? Love isn’t perfect.”

When he finishes, with a teasing and comfort smirk on his face your heart beats loudly against your chest. You know you said that exact same thing to him…. That night on the rooftop. The very night your daughter was conceived… the last time you felt all of his love. At that time, it seemed like you truly believed that. But now? There’s too much to lose... too much to risk for an imperfect love… Right?

He steps closer to you and your body follows him, as you take one step closer to him, too, like you’re in a trance. But that’s when something catches your attention behind him, right past his shoulder and takes you out of your little daze. The baby monitor over the small table a few feet behind him. Your blood freezes in your veins. The image of a sleeping Summer is there, but…something…something is wrong.

“Bucky?”

He follows your transfixed gaze and looks over his shoulder. The way he holds his breath tells you he can see it, too. It’s small. Almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Her little arm moving to reach for her face and then it’s back on its original position… a few seconds… a small glitch…it happens again.

Your heart flies to your throat and you don’t breathe or think again before you turn on your heels and bolt to your baby’s room, Bucky on your toes. You trip on furniture; you may have hurt your leg… you don’t know… you can’t feel. All you feel is Summer, Summer, Summer.

The scream rips out of your soul when you storm into her room and, through blurred vision, you find the crib. Like you so violently dreaded, the image on the baby monitor was a nothing but a recording,

Summer. Your baby daughter… She’s gone.

~~~

Chapter 24 coming soon.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes series #bucky #bucky fic #marvel fanfiction #angst #looking for a heartbeat

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unhealthyforexo · 4 years

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Persistence.

In which Chanyeol pushes your buttons on vacation, but you are as stubborn as him.

Pairing: Chanyeol x reader; Genre: Fluffy fluff; Word count: it’s short; A/N: I finally sat down to write this idea I had for weeks. It’s kinda short but the amount of fluff makes up for it, because it’s like... a looot of fluff. I also wrote this while listening to “Daydreamin’” by EXO-SC; I don’t know if you’re into that kind of reading, but if you are, I think it really fits the scenery. Anyway, I hope it’s not tooo much fluff and hope you really enjoy reading it. Xxx

The hours you had spent swimming in the sea and exploring the narrowed streets around the city start to take its notice on your body, as you feel it getting heavier. Your can’t even find the strength to lift your legs properly to walk, causing you to lazily slide your bare feet across the cold kitchen tiled floor. After gathering a few ingredients on the counter, you look out the window. Even though you already need the lights on to prepare the dinner, the warm colors of the sunset still shine through the windows of the rented apartment. Your eyes feel slothful from the intense contact with the salty water and the sun. You take a deep breath, briefly closing your eyes, before moving your head from side to side, trying to relax your muscles, feeling every drop of water fall from your damp hair against the fabric of your boyfriends t-shirt, that covered your torso down to your thighs. Even though you showered just minutes before, your body still feels warm from how much sun you had been getting in the past few days. You open your eyes and take in the silence as soon the water from the shower stops running.

Summer always felt different with Chanyeol. His skin would taste better whenever you were on vacation, his hair would also be a lot messier and curlier due to how much he swam in the ocean. He always looked good, but it would take your breath away to watch him on the beach and kiss his salty lips whenever he came back to you, while you would be laying in the sun, or even when you went swimming with him. Your favorite part of your vacation’s days were the sunsets. It would either be under an orange or a pink kind of sky, but his cheeks and toned chest would always match whatever color the sky had, wether it would be tanned or slightly burned. He would always had his arm around your shoulders as you left the beach and went back home. Although the wind became cooler as the sun started to set, his bare arm would always be much warmer against the skin of your shoulders. You would make your way back home, taking slow steps and discussing what you would have for dinner. It didn’t matter if you went out for dinner or cooked at home. You would aways rent an apartment somewhere around the Mediterranean cities’ coast, so it would feel cozier. You also liked those kinds of vacations because you could take your time to wake up in the morning, especially if the night was longer than usual, but mostly because it would surely be just you two, not thinking about work back home, but still feeling like home somehow, even if it were just in each others arms.

Your thoughts vanish quickly once you hear his heavy footsteps approaching the kitchen. You look up to watch him lazily walking towards you with a big smile. His hair is wet and, as he comes closer, you notice there are a few drops sliding down his naked torso, while he tries to adjust it with his hand; his other free hand quickly reaching out for you. You feel his fingers sneaking around your waist, his body hovering yours once he stands behind you. You smile, feeling his torso pressing against your back as he hugs you from behind.

“Do you need help?” He asks. His voice sounds soft, almost sleepy. You nod in denial.

“No babe, I’ll take care of it tonight.” You assure him, speaking quietly.

You feel him kiss the top of your head before his nose brushes against your hair, down to your neck, to place his head in the crook of your neck. You giggle, shrugging at how his nose tickles your skin so softy.

“Are you sure?” He hums against your neck, pecking its skin slowly.

“Hmm-mm.” You nod, smiling, taking the ingredients, that are in front of you, in your hand and start cutting a few and season the others.

His arms hold you firmly, tucking the t-shirt you have on, causing its wide collar go lower, exposing a bit of your shoulder and your collar bones. You feel his lips move slowly to the side, now pecking your shoulder. You let out a small chuckle at the feeling, causing him to smile against your skin, which is easy to tell, even though you don’t take your eyes off of what you are doing. Chanyeol breathes in, his chest rising and falling against your upper back, and crosses his arms over your stomach as he holds you. You feel his cheek rest against your shoulder, his breath on the skin of your neck assuring you he has his lips parted, probably in a pout.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” Yep, it was definitely a pout. You rise your shoulder as if you are shaking his head away, causing him to raise his head, and look at him in the eyes. You part your lips to talk only to be interrupted by a cheesy peck. You smile and roll your eyes. “What?” He whines. You know he can’t stand still, not even for a second, but you also promised him you would cook the recipe you had to cry for, to a chef, at one restaurant you went on the first day of your vacation.

“Go pick a movie for us to watch later.” You tell him, but he always has an answer on the tip of his tongue.

“I don’t want to watch movies, I want to watch you.”

You stare at him, biting the inside of your cheek, watching his messy hair sway as he moves his head to the side, giving you the cheekiest smile. You let out a chuckle, looking down afraid you’re going to give in just too easily if he kept giving you that look. He knows too well, so he lowers his head again, pecking your shoulders, up to your neck as you try your hardest to concentrate on what you are doing, before you cut a finger instead of a pepper.

“Hmm…” He breathes. “…you smell so good.” He hums against your skin. He isn’t leaving a trail of pecks on your skin anymore, instead, he has his nose against your hair, just over your ear as his lips brush on it while he speaks. It tickles on your skin, but you don’t think it further, since you know there is nothing but tenderness in his attitude.

“I just showered you idiot.” You giggle, earring a chuckle from him, causing your body to shift against his. He adjusts his arms around you and you press your back comfortably against his torso.

“I know…” He says almost in a whisper, kissing your temple softly. He looks down at your hands as he watches you prepare the dinner. You feel the wet ends of his hair brushing against your ear once he leans in again, now resting his chin on your shoulder.

“It’s the lotion you use. It smells really good.” He compliments you.

“Thank you.” Your voice comes out almost childishly. You smile like the spoiled girlfriend you are, because you know your lotion has a very common fruit sent and it is not at all special. “I didn’t know you like it.”

“Hmm.” He hums, nodding against your shoulder, his chin pressing against your skin as he spoke. “ I love it…” He pauses, his eyes always following your hands, watching you attentively. “… but only on you. It smells so much better on you.” He remarks.

You chuckle at his words, giving him a small thank you. You feel your cheeks burning but you aren’t sure if it is because he still manages to make you blush after so much time together, or because you can’t stop smiling.

You extend your arm to get some condiments for the meat, and he consequently lifts his chin from your shoulder, not to put so much weigh on it as you move. He stands straight, uncrossing his arms from over your stomach, slowly letting go of your waist. He lets his arms fall on each of his sides, watching you slice the meat now. You can hear and feel him breathing calmly, the air hitting your shoulder’s bare skin.

It doesn’t take too long before his hands are on you again. First, you feel his torso press firmly against your back again, his fingers coming to notice after as he slides them through your forearm, quickly reaching for your hand, his long fingers caressing your thumb, wrapping his hands over yours, one around the knife and the other trying to take your hand’s place to hold the meat.

“Chanyeol.” You warn. He lets out a small chuckle against the back of your head.

“Wha-a..” He laughs as you try to push him back with your shoulders, only to fail completely, since he is obviously stronger than you and resists easily. You give up trying to push him back and start moving your arms, shaking his hands away from you. You start to giggle, your body language failing your tone when you try to scold him.

You drop the knife and let go of the food, taking a few steps back, which he mirrors, walking backwards as if your back is glued to his chest.

“Stooop!” You whine. He lets out a giggle, extending his arms trying to reach for the counter, but you quickly hold him back. You turn around, facing him. You press your body against his, forcefully pushing him back. You succeed, getting him to take a few steps back, but he is still trying to fight back and walk around you. His giggles are precious and you know he is trying to push your buttons and also enjoying it, as always. You take your hands up and place them on his bare chest, trying to ignore the feeling of his muscles tensing under your touch, and start pushing him away. “Go sit down!” You try to warn him, but have to turn around, not being able to contain your smile as he keeps chuckling, obviously appreciating your whines a bit too much.

“I want to help you!” He tries to excuse himself. Of course he does. He always has to be doing something, it is inevitable and sometimes even annoying, because so do you.

“No!” You insist. You extended your arm as you turn your back at him again, walking to one of the kitchen cabinets to get the pan. “If you touch that food I will shank you.” You tease.

You feel his hand on your back, gripping the t-shirt, trying to hold you back, but you keep walking. You hear him mutter something you can’t understand along with his footsteps as he follows you around the kitchen. You bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter. You stop by the kitchen cabinet, opening it, looking for what you needed. You can feel him standing beside you, still not letting go of the t-shirt you have on and once you think you have shut him up, he teases you further.

“But I do it so much better…” He watches you turn your head to the side to face him. He can’t help but smile once you raise your eyebrows at him. You bite the inside of your cheek trying not to laugh. There is no way someone can have the energy to be that annoying after a day of swimming and walking around under the sun. You stand up straight, turning to him, already raising your hand to point a finger at him and answer back, but he is quick to pull you by the fabric of the t-shirt, taking a few steps closer to you, giggling as you speak.

“You just earned yourself fr…” You try to speak but his arms are quickly around you, only giving you time to turn your back at him again, failing to escape. Your fingers sneak around the forearm he has wrapped across your chest, trying to detach his hold from your skin, quickly feeling his other arm wrap around your waist, pulling you against his chest again. Chanyeol’s giggles suddenly grow into a laugh at your words. “… free nights on the cou…” You can’t finish your sentence, his fingers tickling your skin make you throw your head back in laughter. He leans down, laughing at how you shift under his touch, still trying to escape.

“You’re…” He tries to answer back, not being able to control his giggles either, feeling your body brush against his as you desperately try to move away from him. “… baby…” He chuckled.”… s..stop!” He giggles, leaning his head down. You can feel his giggles close to your ear and his arms holding you firmly while he keeps tickling you. You let out a desperate cry in between your laughter once you feel his teeth against the skin of your neck as he nibbles it playfully.

His fingers find your unsteady ones as soon as your nails brush against his arms, holding you back from moving his touch away from your body.

“Yeol!” You cry as you feel his playful nibbles go down your neck and to your shoulder, his hair now tickling you as you breathlessly laugh.

I really need to learn how to finish these ahaha

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itsagutthing · 4 years

Text

Places Carrie Mathison Has Lived: New York City Edition

this installment of my carrie’s apartments series is close to my heart because i also live in brooklyn, though not close to carrie. the show actually filmed a scene just a block from my apartment, but for obvious reasons i’m not going to specify which scene. i know, season six is overall meh with the exception of carrie’s blazers, but my lizard brain still goes, “that’s where i live!” so i give it more leeway than i probably should.

carrie lives in the bedford-stuyvesant neighborhood of brooklyn, which was once primarily home to black and latino families but unfortunately is in the process of gentrifying. some light googling tells me they filmed the interior apartment scenes on a soundstage in another brooklyn neighborhood called greenpoint, which begs the question: why didn’t they just make carrie live there? greenpoint has also been gentrified but is mostly home to eastern european immigrants, so the writers could have avoided the questionable racial implications of carrie living in bed-stuy, particularly when she’s working at a non-profit that promotes racial justice. and greenpoint is also more convenient to her office in williamsburg! i know the answer to this question is probably just “brownstones look pretty,” and there are lots of brownstones in bed-stuy but not in greenpoint, but i’ll still bitch about it.

anyway, we know from quinn’s escape to the bodega in 6.02 that carrie lives close to the intersection of throop avenue and halsey street, which means she lives off of the kingston-throop A and C trains and a sort-of far walk from the bedford-nostrand G. she probably takes the G to work in williamsburg. this is information that’s only important to me, but i love public transit.

the bike lane sign in the screenshot above reminds me how much i loved seeing carrie biking around berlin. even though nyc isn’t nearly as bike-friendly, i hope she does the same in brooklyn.

carrie appears to have free reign of the entire brownstone, which must have been two separate units at some point — both where she and franny live and the ~garden apartment~ on the basement level that has both a full bath and kitchen. she obviously can’t afford to rent out an entire brownstone in new york city, even in bed-stuy, so my headcanon is that otto bought it as an investment property and is letting carrie and franny stay in it at a heavily discounted rate.

brownstones are typically long and skinny, as we see here. there are really only two rooms on the first floor: the living room and the kitchen.

i love seeing all of franny’s drawings strung up on the living room wall and her chalkboard/easel in the corner. this fixes an issue i had with carrie’s berlin apartment, which was that there was a weird lack of kid stuff. i don’t think that means anything on its own — we see in 5.01 how devoted carrie was to her seemingly normal life as a mother — but it’s nice to see more little touches in her brooklyn apartment.

i assume the fireplace in the left-hand corner isn’t actually usable, but it does make the living room look homier. i’m surprised there isn’t more carpeting, since carrie loves a patterned rug. the living room looks a little cold without it. maybe she isn’t done decorating yet, though i think we’re supposed to believe they’ve been in nyc for a few months.

there’s a tv next to the fireplace in 6.05 that isn’t there in 6.01, which is very strange placement. the only furniture opposite the tv is a desk and chair, so there’s nowhere to sit comfortably while watching. i don’t think carrie spends a lot of time watching tv, but that’s still a confusing choice. i do like franny’s fuzzy chair with bunny ears, though. carrie probably ordered it on amazon but i like to imagine her schlepping it in and out of a cab.

now for the kitchen:

one nice thing the show did to convince us that this is an apartment carrie could maybe afford is that it’s not newly renovated: all the kitchen appliances are basic and/or old, and the countertops look like plastic laminate and are chipped along the edges. and there’s no room for the nice cutting boards or espresso machine she had in germany! i always find barstools charming even if they’re just a cheat to make an efficient use of counter space.

my favorite detail in the kitchen is the trio of framed drawings done by franny. again, i love all the “carrie’s a mom, remember?” touches.

the curtains are a gold color and match the curtains in the living room! carrie learned some design lessons in berlin.

even in the daytime the whole first floor feels really dark, which makes me miss the floor-to-ceiling windows in berlin. i brightened the screenshots a lot to see the details, but especially in the living room, the sunlight just doesn’t reach all the way across the house. the lack of natural light (and the fact that they filmed during the late fall) does a lot of quick work to set the dreary tone that persists for the entire season. i can’t help but compare it to the americans, which also filmed in brooklyn in the fall/winter, but at least the indoor scenes in that show were well-lit and generally warmer in both color and tone.

i associate the early seasons of homeland with warm yellows, probably because they filmed either in the desert or in charlotte in the summertime. the shift to gray winter skies and heavy coats is a little jarring, even with berlin in the middle as a transitional urban, cooler season.

that door behind carrie goes out to a set of stairs and their little backyard/patio:

it’s common, if a little depressing, to have bars on first-floor windows as shown in the second shot above, both to child-proof an apartment from the inside and to prevent break-ins. our first view of franny for the season is through those bars, but i’m not entirely sure what the symbolism is supposed to be. carrie already feels a separation from franny, maybe? this shot especially feels super foreboding.

carrie continues her trend of killer outdoor lounge furniture (remember the multiple chaises on her DC patio?) with the wooden chair with blue cushions right outside the back door. there are also more potted plants than i believe carrie would purchase/remember to water, especially in the winter, but maybe she figures if they’re outside they’ll get enough rain to survive.

i don’t have a lot to say about the patio itself other than i’m jealous that carrie has outdoor space.

inside by the stairs/front entryway is a framed berlin jazz poster which makes me inexplicably happy, and follows the same trend with the jazz posters she had in her DC apartment. it’s hard to tell what’s in the photos, so i’m choosing to believe they’re pictures of places she and franny loved in berlin, including some of the two of them taken by jonas. there is absolutely a photo of franny and carrie at the birthday party we saw in 5.01 where carrie’s wearing that balloon hat.

we don’t get to see a lot of the second floor, but i’m going to assume it’s just franny’s room, carrie’s room, carrie’s weird conspiracy closet, and a bathroom.

franny’s room is very colorful, with the rainbow sheets and rainbow polka dot curtains. it makes up for the dreariness of the first floor. behind carrie in that second shot is franny’s star lamp, which i love but have many questions about. it’s obviously an allusion to brody, of which there are many in season 6, probably because they’re in new york city and brody would have never served/been captured/turned/bonded with carrie if not for 9/11. assuming that carrie purchased this lamp for franny with brody’s memory in mind, does franny have anything else that’s star themed? if not, why this lamp? did carrie explain to franny that stars make her think of franny’s father, or is it just a secret nod for carrie alone? how often does carrie talk to franny about brody, if at all?

now we move to carrie’s conspiracy closet:

i’ve been in enough brownstones to know that sometimes there are strange inexplicable tiny rooms, which is what we have here. i’m sure this would be advertised as an office space on streeteasy but it really looks like a glorified closet with a confusing number of doors leading off of it. i count three total including the one saul came in — what are all these doors? i think the one on saul’s right goes to franny’s room but i don’t have a great spatial brain and i’m not confident about that assessment.

this conspiracy board reveal was kinda anticlimactic since very little happens with it, but i still felt like i needed to include it as a separate room since carrie clearly spends a lot of time here.

i wish we got to see carrie’s bedroom because i love to scrutinize the art she has, but sadly we’re limited to franny’s room. i’m going to assume there’s a full bath up here somewhere, and a half bath downstairs that we don’t see.

finally, we have the basement apartment that carrie allegedly rents out on airbnb. in real life it likely would be marketed as an entire unit separate from the two floors above, but since otto owns the entire brownstone / is in love with carrie he’s just letting her do whatever she wants with it.

the full kitchen is what convinces me it was supposed to be an independent unit — no one has a stove and sink and lots of cabinets in their basement. like we saw in carrie’s kitchen, none of the appliances are fancy and the countertops are nothing special, which makes the room look kinda drab but does help sell the idea that carrie could actually live here. there’s also some water damage in the corner by the fridge. i’m not sure why they decided to be realistic in season 6 — can we all recall carrie’s unnecessary two-bedroom townhouse in DC? — and it’s not particularly fun to watch, but i’m not mad about it.

the living room area of this basement actually looks cozier than carrie’s living room, with all the pillows and the exposed brick wall. i have a weakness for exposed brick walls, as we know from carrie’s DC apartment, and here it goes pretty far to make the space look homey. the couch looks like it matches the chair on her patio (with the wood frame + blue cushions), so does that mean the patio chair is meant for normal indoor use? why is it outside??

as we know from her berlin apartment, carrie really loves a two-curtain combo with a sheer under layer. these are dark green, similar to the navy ones she loved in berlin but not the same. i do like the thought of carrie taking her navy curtains with her from germany and relegating them to the basement to avoid the constant reminder of her past life, but i also have no desire to think about what it would mean that quinn ends up living in the basement with her jonas curtains. so those must be new!

in summary: musings about carrie’s role in gentrification, the color palette of the show, berlin jazz poster + photos, franny’s art on the walls, star lamp, a basement living room that’s cozier than carrie’s actual living room!

#homeland #carrie mathison #me acknowledging qu*nn's existence? only because i needed the screenshots #me bringing up jonas for no reason? of course #i cropped/brightened these photos while watching gilmore girls which sure was a tonal shift #cma*#i miss carrie even though i have every single episode at my fingertips

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carmenlire · 4 years

Text

Strawberry Skies

written for BTS Aspec Week over on twitter!

read on ao3

This date is pretty damned perfect, if Yoongi says so himself.

It’s a sunny day, late autumn air crisp, and there’s no place he’d rather be right now.

Right now being at an open air market in a cozy Seoul neighborhood. There are dozens of stalls selling everything from cheese to ornaments to toys. When Taehyung had invited him here for their next date, Yoongi hadn’t hesitated to accept.

It’s comfortable in the way Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to pull Yoongi to whatever stall catches his eye and the conversation flows smoothly. They’ve only been together a few weeks but Yoongi’s never felt so good with someone else, so warm and comfortable and, frankly, not annoyed at extended amounts of quality time spent together.

Taehyung keeps him on his toes, though, all while making sure he’s not overwhelmed or tired out or just over it all.

And while he won’t ever say it out loud, at least not yet, Yoongi privately thinks that it might just be impossible to tell Taehyung no, that Yoongi would do anything with him if he just asked.

There’s just one tiny, teensy, very small problem that’s not really a problem at all but more of a conundrum.

“Hey, hyung, look at this,” his boyfriend’s voice brings Yoongi over from where he was looking at carved wooden animals to the stall next door where Taehyung’s eyeing a cupcake.

As he nears, Yoongi shivers a little and pulls his coat closer to him. They’ve been here an hour or so and the temperature is dropping. It’s still sunny and barely enough to notice but Yoongi, who hates the cold, can definitely feel the difference. Crowding closer to Taehyung under the guise of looking at the cupcakes too, their hands knock into each other. Yoongi’s heart beats a little faster, even at so small a gesture, and he wants.

He wants to hold Taehyung’s hand.

But he’s nervous. Everything is still so new and Yoongi has been told a time or two in the past that he can be too clingy, that once he’s comfortable with someone, he’s too comfortable and he doesn’t want to freak his new boyfriend out by holding hands when he clearly doesn’t feel the same need.

See Yoongi’s predicament.

They haven’t done much of anything yet. Really, Yoongi wonders if they don’t look like just friends when they’re out on dates for there’s no kissing, no holding close, no hand-holding or footsie under the table or anything really to give away that Yoongi likes Taehyung so much he feels like vibrating sometimes when he’s on the receiving end of that boxy grin, like he’s won something infinitely precious whenever Taehyung laughs at something he says or looks at him with wide eyes like he’s seeing everything Yoongi tries so hard to hide.

It’s a lot. Taehyung’s a lot but Yoongi kinda feels like a sunflower opening up under that intense stare and warm smile.

The two of them don’t say anything for a moment, just look over the display of baked goods before Taehyung shifts and Yoongi freezes when an arm drops over his shoulders, shivers-- though definitely not from the cold-- when he feels Taehyung speak low into his ear.

“What do you think, hyung? Salted caramel or blueberry lemon?”

It takes a minute for the words to register, Yoongi far too aware of how close his boyfriend is. He feels small tucked into Taehyung like this and apparently his boyfriend is a heater masquerading as a human person because he’s so warm that Yoongi feels himself starting to thaw almost immediately.

Debating, Yoongi stares at the two cupcakes before shrugging and turning to look at Taehyung. When he turns, Yoongi realizes just how close the two of them are and he’s breathless for a whole new reason. Taehyung doesn’t look affected though, just looks at him expectantly with a wide smile and patient eyes, waiting for him to make a decision, and Yoongi is in definite like.

A little flustered, Yoongi manages to whisper, “Salted caramel.” Taehyung’s grin widens.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he exclaims and turns toward the cashier to order.

Yoongi zones out a little, still leeching Taehyung’s body heat, but he startles when Taehyung holds out a steaming cup. “I ordered a hot chocolate too. Want to share?”

Smiling, Yoongi accepts the drink. Humming a little, he brings the cup up to his face and breathes in, warm chocolate making everything seem that much cozier. When he looks up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes, he sees Taehyung watching him with a fond smile, something quieter than his usual. “Thanks, Tae-ah.”

“No problem, hyung. You looked a little cold anyway.”

Before Yoongi can reply, Taehyung is turning to the next stall. Yoongi takes a sip of the hot chocolate and almost chokes on it when he feels Taehyung’s hand take hold of his.

Just like that. Casual, without thought, Taehyung reaches for Yoongi with the hand not holding the cupcake and slides their palms together, intertwining their fingers.

It’s such a simple gesture but Yoongi loves it. It’s the way Taehyung keeps him close, a point of contact when the crowd gets a little busier, and his hand is so warm, so inviting.

Handholding is one of his favorite things and he hates that it’s so underrated. It’s intimate without being too much-- Yoongi’s not one for public displays but he’d happily hold Taehyung’s hand for the rest of the day.

Yoongi hopes Taehyung is ready for that.

Still, as they trade sips of hot chocolate and bites of cupcake, Yoongi marvels at Taehyung’s confident approach. His grip isn’t tight, Yoongi more than capable of letting go if he wanted, but he's starting to think Taehyung might be more hands-on than he’d thought at the beginning. In the way he’d unselfconsciously pulled Yoongi close, the seamless way he’d reached out for him, Taehyung seems very comfortable with the kind of clinginess that had made Yoongi’s other partners wary in the past.

Yoongi can only hope.

As afternoon fades into early evening and Yoongi’s feet start hurting, he curls a little tighter into Taehyung whenever they stop at a stall, holding his hand all the while. Yoongi doesn’t let go.

Taehyung doesn’t either.

Taehyung is so tired he could cry.

His train had been delayed for hours and it’s finally pulling into Seoul, well after dark and it might even be past midnight but he doesn’t even want to check the time.

He’d gone home to visit his family back in Daegu for a couple of weeks but he’d been antsy to return to the city. His family had noticed his eagerness and had teased him mercilessly, asking him what could be so important that he kept his phone on him at all times when usually, Taehyung was content enough to leave his cell in his room and forget about it until he went to bed at night.

When Taehyung unexpectedly blushed at his family’s gentle ribbing, he’d been almost as surprised as them. Because while he has the habit for falling for people for split seconds or a heavy moment, he’s never been so into someone like he is with Yoongi.

His dad had latched onto the name and with a raised brow, asked his son if things were serious, if he could see things becoming serious.

At that, Taehyung had felt his cheeks warm even more, if that was possible. He’s only been dating Yoongi for a couple of months but he’s so deep in like that he can already see it tipping over into something else, something more.

Which brings him back to now when he’s finally back in Seoul, hours after he’d told Yoongi he’d arrive. Yoongi was going to pick him up at the train station but Taehyung had texted him when he’d realized that the minor delay had become a dead end stop, letting his boyfriend know that it was hard to tell when he’d be back, that hyung you don’t need to pick me up, I’ll just see you on Wednesday for our usual movie night, no really it’s fine, I don’t want you to stick around a freezing train station just waiting for me for who knows how long.

The two of them had texted for a while, bickering lightly back and forth about everything from Yoongi insisting that it wasn’t a problem, he could just camp out at a coffee shop nearby, to debating how penguins pick the perfect pebble to give to their mates.

That was until Taehyung’s phone had died and had officially cemented this as the worst day he’s had all month.

He has a meeting early in the morning and it will be at least another hour after they finally arrive at the station before Taehyung will be walking into his apartment. He’d been hoping to enjoy a few hours with his boyfriend after being away for a couple weeks-- it was a little embarrassing maybe, how much he’d missed Yoongi-- but no, Taehyung will be lucky if he stumbles back to his place and manages a few hours sleep before he has to face a hectic day full of meetings and a long shoot in the afternoon that will probably also drag on past midnight by the time all’s said and done.

Taehyung is so tired, not just because of today but how it will have a definite and potentially disastrous domino effect on tomorrow, and he just wants to curl up and rest and reset.

Hearing the automated voice announce that they’ve reached their final destination, Taehyung sighs, grabs his bag and picks up his trash. He exits the train, following everyone else out in a zombie queue of fatigue and bitter resignation.

Tossing his trash in the nearest garbage can, Taehyung’s just debating whether to call a cab or take the bus to his place when a voice breaks through the din.

“Taehyung-ah?”

Startled, Taehyung looks up and stares dumbly at the person who’d called out. In the back of his mind, he officially puts one Min Yoongi on the list of most stubborn people he knows.

“Yoongi-hyung?”

His boyfriend smiles and while it starts as a hesitant, soft thing, it quickly moves to a full grin, visible gums and all. In his exhausted, drained haze, Taehyung’s breath catches at just how pretty Yoongi is and how lucky he is to be on the receiving end of such a look.

Before he can say anything though, Yoongi’s reaching for his bag and throwing it over his own shoulder, rushing out, “I know you said that I didn’t have to wait and I’m sorry if I overstepped and you want alone time but I didn’t think you’d want to have to mess with finding a ride home and--” Yoongi cuts off for a minute, seems to take a big uncertain breath before he softly trails off with, “and I missed you and wanted to see you, even if it’s only for a car ride home and you kind of look like death warmed over, no offense.”

Taehyung just stares at him, mouth slightly parted as he listens to the rambling explanation. There are butterflies erupting somewhere in him before he even fully takes in Yoongi’s words.

Before he quite knows what he’s doing, Taehyung steps closer to Yoongi and throws his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

The impact is solid and Taehyung hears Yoongi let out a little oof, then a thud as Taehyung’s duffel bag falls off Yoongi’s shoulder onto the ground.

Neither one pays any mind to it.

Yoongi is still for a moment and Taehyung’s brain has just started to come back online. He’s blearily wondering if he’d moved too fast-- for even though they’ve been dating for a couple of months, this is their first hug, the first time they’re so close together with hardly any space between them-- when Yoongi must get over the shock that is Taehyung, with his defenses down and his overwhelming need for physical affection, fairly launching himself at the object of said affections.

Yoongi slowly brings his arms up to wrap around Taehyung’s middle and they both melt into the touch, Yoongi’s squeezing just a little, just enough to bring them that much closer.

Sighing, Taehyung feels boneless as he buries his nose in Yoongi’s hair and just breathes.

He doesn’t feel like crying anymore, which is a definite plus, and even though he’s still exhausted and thinking about tomorrow, being surrounded by Yoongi tempers Taehyung’s edges in a way he hadn’t really been expecting.

Taehyung swings between exuberance and meditative, sometimes lightning quick. He enjoys both sides of himself but has found that touch is the best way to ground him or get him out of his head. Hugging is one of his favorite things in the world but there’s always a level of wariness when he approaches it with partners.

To most people, hugging is nothing special. To most partners, hugging is laughably casual while still carrying an undercurrent of tension.

Taehyung doesn’t feel that tension. He has often, however, felt pressure-- the pressure of knowing that hugging isn’t anywhere close to enough for a lot of people, the pressure of wondering when the right time is to tell his partner that hugging means quite a bit to him, that anything much beyond that is totally and completely out of the question.

As he holds Yoongi close, Taehyung marvels at how warm his hyung is, how solidly they fit together. Taehyung feels safe and comfortable, a little bit like a melting marshmallow, all gooey and warm and like he never wants to peel himself away from his boyfriend.

It’s hard to tell how long the two of them stay like that, just hugging in silence on a rapidly emptying train platform but Taehyung’s overwhelmingly content.

He can’t help but wonder, even in this blissful state, what will happen when Yoongi figures it out, when he asks for more and Taehyung has to shut him down. Their relationship is moving slowly, in measured little increments that’s vastly satisfying even if Taehyung’s worried what will happen when they reach the inexorable end.

To his relief, though, Yoongi also seems happy enough to wiggle closer and sigh into Taehyung’s neck. He doesn’t try anything else and Taehyung’s happy.

He really likes Yoongi and he likes what they’re building. And while there’s always apprehension during a new relationship, Taehyung finds himself wishing very much that Yoongi proves the exception to what he privately acknowledges is a bit of a dismal dating history.

Yoongi finally pulls back and he’s grinning softly at Taehyung. “Ready to go home and pass out?”

Groaning, Taehyung steps back and raising his arms above his head, stretching and trying to wake up a little bit. “God, yes.”

“Let’s go, then.” Yoongi grabs the bag again and hauls it over his shoulder, ignoring Taehyung’s protests.

As the two of them turn towards the parking lot outside, Yoongi reaches out without looking and snags Taehyung’s hand. Swinging their joined hands a little, Taehyung sees his boyfriend’s pleased smile and can’t help but echo it.

Less than an hour later, when Yoongi pulls up to Taehyung’s apartment building, his boyfriend is a perfect gentleman as he gets out to walk Taehyung to the door.

They exchange goodbyes, reminding each other of their weekly movie night plans, and Taehyung has just put his key into the lock when Yoongi clears his throat. “Wait.”

Turning around, Taehyung looks at him a little confused. Yoongi’s smile is shy and his cheeks are a little warm as he shuffles closer and pulls Taehyung into one last hug. He smells like coffee and the strawberry shampoo he favors and Taehyung closes his eyes as he leans into his boyfriend, glad that Yoongi is comfortable enough to ask for what he wants-- and very happy that they seem to be on the same wavelength, at least about this, at least so far.

Yoongi waits until Taehyung’s inside the building before he turns to leave and Taehyung’s last thought before he flings himself into his bed, finally, and falls into a dreamless sleep is that he’s even closer to falling off the edge of like than he’d thought.

Unlocking the door, Yoongi finally takes a deep breath, letting it back out in a deep sigh.

Today sucked.

If it wasn’t one thing it was another. He’d slept past his alarm, which never happens, and so he hadn’t had time for his morning coffee before he’d had to rush to a meeting with the new head of the creative department at his company.

They’d ripped his prospective title track to shreds-- something about it not fitting the girl group’s image, something else that included changing the comeback concept that had already been approved weeks ago, even though Yoongi had consulted with all of the members and they had been very enthusiastic about his ideas.

He has a bit of a reputation at the company. He’s been with them for almost a decade-- going back to his high school days when he’d hung around as an unpaid intern, all wide eyes and hungry for knowledge about an industry he was determined to make his mark in.

Yoongi’s worked hard to become one of the lead producers for the company. He knows his shit is good and it had been a very difficult pill to swallow, listening to a manager who was younger than him tell him that his music was uninspired and ill fitting when he’s been working with the group longer than the other man had even been in the industry.

Still, Yoongi had buried down his simmering resentment and listened to what his colleague had said, even going so far as to write down the man’s suggestions.

He’d then talked to the girls who had been outraged on his behalf and promised that they hadn’t said anything, which had gone a long way in smoothing Yoongi’s ruffled feathers. He respects creative differences and knows that he is but a background influence that ultimately answers to the artists he creates for. But he has known this group since their pre-debut days and had been stressed and a little annoyed if they had truly hated his idea but had just gone along with him anyway.

Knowing that was not the case, especially based on other things the girls had said about their new manager, Yoongi had gone back to his studio to see if inspiration would work its magic with a few tweaked ideas.

Never let it be said that Min Yoongi wasn’t willing to compromise.

But not before going to the head of the company for his monthly meeting. Thankfully, Hitman Bang had been in a good mood and the meeting had gone as it usually does-- mostly talking shit about others and bouncing ideas for next quarter comebacks.

Yoongi had brought up the new creative department manager, which had lead to a lengthy discussion and Yoongi had left the executive suite feeling his bad mood significantly tempered.

Until he’d decided to head to the coffee shop around the block to make up for his missed caffeine hit from his late start. He’d ordered his usual americano, with an extra shot, and had just been reaching for the front door when someone else had crashed through the entrance and Yoongi’s coffee-- without a single sip taken-- had landed all over his hoodie.

The man had been an asshole about it, too. Had barely offered a half-ass apology before he’d walked up to the line and had taken a call right there in the busy shop, talking far too loudly and aggressively and looking patently unconcerned with the looks everyone else was throwing him.

Yoongi had stood by the door for a moment, the heat of the coffee stinging his stomach a little and had closed his eyes while he carefully, slowly, counted to fifty.

Deciding not to risk another incident, he’d just looked down at his ruined clothes and walked out of the coffee shop, going back to his studio where he thankfully kept a change of clothes.

Alas, his concentration was shot and Yoongi, even though clean and dry in a new pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, couldn’t focus. He’d grabbed his phone, hoping Taehyung might’ve spammed him with cute pictures of dogs as he’s wont to do but nothing.

Yoongi slumps in his chair and even if he’s judging himself, that doesn’t stop him from opening his message thread with Taehyung.

The last text is from two days ago and Yoongi knows that’s not long, not long at all, but he’s having a shitty day and he could really use his boyfriend right now.

Taehyung’s busy, though, and Yoongi won’t bother him just because he’s feeling a little whiny and tired. Something about pulling overtime for a magazine fuck-up that had mandated Taehyung retake and re-edit an entire shoot with a very tight turnaround.

Yoongi thinks about sending an encouraging message, something that doesn’t require a response but might make Taehyung smile if he happens to glance at his phone for a minute, but Yoongi doesn’t want to seem clingy or distract his boyfriend from work.

Yoongi knows he himself can be a terror when working under a deadline and sympathizes.

So, he fucks around a little on his software but doesn’t make much progress. His stomach rumbles but he’s too tired to get up and do anything about it so he just sits in his chair instead like a sad lump of unmolded clay. Spends more time staring into space than getting any work done, but Yoongi perseveres, at least long enough so that he doesn’t feel guilty leaving too early.

It’s not like anyone around here keeps a regular schedule but there’s a piece of Yoongi that doesn't want his bad day to have too much power over him.

The days are short and night falls quicker now that it’s the shitty time of winter, after the holidays when everything is just gray and sad and dingy.

Huddling in his coat, Yoongi makes it back to his apartment with single-minded focus, so drained that he fumbles with his keys.

Yeah, today really sucked but at least he’s home now and doesn’t have to be a person until morning.

His apartment is dark and he quickly changes into pajamas-- an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants he’s had since his college days.

He’s just ready to put something on Netflix, something he’s already seen a few dozen times, and enter a fugue state until it’s time for bed, when his doorbell rings.

Standing in the middle of his living room, Yoongi stares at the door intently, wondering who the fuck it could be. He’s not in the mood for Hoseok or Jin, knows that Namjoon is away in L.A. for a few weeks working on a private project.

Wondering if his day is about to be capped by being bludgeoned to death, Yoongi swings the door open. Everything rights itself as he leans against the door and takes in his unexpected visitor.

Because there his boyfriend is, smiling even though he looks tired himself and holding a bag that smells suspiciously, deliciously, like fried chicken.

“Special delivery,” Taehyung says hopefully and waves the bag around a little.

Holding the door open wider so he can come in, Yoongi asks, “What are you doing here? I thought you had a deadline?”

Handing Yoongi the bag as he takes his shoes and coat off, Taehyung hums. “And I nailed it! Finished a few hours early and decided to surprise you with dinner and a quiet night in.”

At this, he turns toward Yoongi and takes him in, smiling softly. “It looks like we could both use it.”

Nodding numbly, Yoongi goes into the kitchen to set the bags down and then turns back to Taehyung. Not expecting that, Taehyung bumps right into him but Yoongi just pulls him closer and tucks his head under his boyfriend’s chin. Breathing deep, he lets himself be held and lets a lot of the tension that had kept his spine stiff and resolute finally melt away.

That leaves exhaustion though, and Yoongi is almost dizzy with it-- he hasn’t been sleeping well lately and this bad day has just exacerbated things.

He lifts his head up to thank his boyfriend for such a lovely, welcomed surprise just as Taehyung ducks down to presumably kiss his hair. Because Yoongi’s moved though, the two end up kissing each other right on the mouth.

It’s just a peck, closed-mouth and over in a flash but it sends warmth trickling through Yoongi’s nerves. They’ve been dating for a few months and while there have been hugs and handholding and kisses on cheeks and hair, this is their first kiss, really.

If Yoongi’s being honest, he’s been waiting for this. Really, he’s been waiting for Taehyung to get impatient with the glacial pace of their relationship and to address it but his boyfriend seems happy enough-- very happy indeed-- to follow his lead and to show his affection in the several ways they’ve established so far that are very okay and very much in demand.

He hears Taehyung gasp when their lips disconnect and there’s a moment where the two of them stare at each other, wide eyed and surprised. But then Yoongi’s heart melts as he sees Taehyung’s cheeks flush warm pink, as he sees that boxy grin take over his boyfriend’s face but this time with a flustered edge.

“Was that okay,” Yoongi whispers, tilting his head up so that he can make eye contact with Taehyung. It’s not always easy for him but Yoongi wants to be sure they’re on the same page, wants to make sure that they’re both enjoying where things are taking them.

“So okay,” Taehyung whispers back before lowering his head until Yoongi feels his breath on his lips. “Want to do it again?”

And all Yoongi can think to say is, “Yes, please,” and he closes his eyes as he feels Taehyung kiss him again, mouth warm and gentle. They move together slowly, taking their time, learning each other in this new way, so exciting even if there’s no particular heat behind it.

Yoongi loses himself in Taehyung, in being surrounded and held close and in the gentle way Taehyung wants him.

It’s not too much. Right now, it’s just enough.

Yoongi smiles into the kiss, soft and slow, and Taehyung mirrors him until they’re grinning so much that they can’t keep kissing. He giggles as Taehyung takes that as an opportunity to plant smacking kisses over his face, squeezing him close until they’re breathless.

Without thinking, Yoongi murmurs, “Love this.”

He doesn’t freeze but his mind stills for a split second as Taehyung hears him, as his boyfriend kisses his ear and replies, “Love this, too.”

The two of them finally break away and Yoongi clears his throat, flustered and very much happy, as he turns toward the chicken that’s probably a little cold by now.

A few minutes later, they’re settling on the couch, plates full as they share the middle cushion. Yoongi asks what Taehyung’s in the mood to watch but he’s vague, hands the decision right back into Yoongi’s court.

So Yoongi puts on some sort of space documentary that he’s seen before. It’s a little dry but interesting enough when one doesn’t have the focus for anything better.

His apartment is silent besides the narrator’s voice on the television. Outside it starts to sleet, icy rain hitting the windows at a good clip. The little noise breaks Yoongi’s attention, makes him look over to where Taehyung is taking a sip of his drink, eyes not leaving the television as he learns some mathematical theorem that goes over Yoongi’s head, no matter that this is the third time he’s watching this documentary.

The weather is dismal tonight and Yoongi quietly thinks about offering Taehyung the option to stay the night. That’s something else they haven’t done yet and Yoongi’s a little nervous to bring it up, now, when they’ve just shared their first kiss.

He wonders if Taehyung will take that as an invitation, if he’ll think that Yoongi-- now that he’s comfortable with one form of intimacy, if he’ll throw open the door to more.

Yoongi very much will not be opening that door.

But he’s not an asshole and a part of him thinks that maybe he should just get it over with. Tell his boyfriend that kisses are okay-- good, great, amazing-- but that’s all Yoongi will ever want.

He’s loathe to do that, especially right now, today. He’s had a shitty day and the thought of confronting Taehyung’s desires-- even facing his questions seems like too much right now.

Really, Yoongi just wants to stay like this, as close to Taehyung as he can get. No pressure for anything else.

Taehyung finishes eating first. He puts his empty plate on the coffee table and leans back into the couch, throwing an arm over Yoongi’s shoulders.

Smiling as he takes a bite of rice, Yoongi settles deeper into Taehyung’s side. He doesn’t realize the breath he’s let out until Taehyung breaks the little spell that’s fallen over them.

“How was your day?”

With a little laugh, Yoongi shakes his head. “Incredibly shitty,” he replies dryly.

Taehyung hums, thumb brushes over his shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” Yoongi finishes dinner, sets his plate next to Tae’s, and just as he starts to resettle, he reconsiders.

He hesitates for a moment, looking down as he thinks. When he looks up, his boyfriend is watching him with patient eyes, as though just waiting for Yoongi to make a decision.

So he does. They’ve long since established that Taehyung likes touch-- holding hands, hugs, the casual barely conscious gestures that are as easy to him as breathing.

Yoongi is a little more reticent. It often takes ages for him to warm up to someone but Taehyung makes him feel so warm and he wants him so much that he decides not to overthink things for once.

Yoongi takes a deep breath and very studiously avoids eye contact as he moves, shifting so that he’s curled into Taehyung’s side, throwing his legs over one of Taehyung’s. He reaches for the blanket he keeps on the back of his couch and settles it over them, smoothing it out just to draw out the moment.

Finally, he releases his breath and very carefully eases his head down until he’s resting on Taehyung’s shoulder.

He waits for Taehyung to say something, to move, but his boyfriend doesn’t do any of that. He just wraps his arm over Yoongi’s shoulder, lets it sweep down his back until his hand brushes his hip.

It’s nice. It’s beyond nice and just what Yoongi needs to end this hell of a day. He all but melts against Taehyung and he feels Taehyung’s smile as he kisses the top of his head.

They watch the rest of the documentary like that, cozy and wrapped around each other. Towards the end, Yoongi’s eyes start drifting closed and he brushes his nose over Taehyung’s chest, snuggling closer.

Taehyung huffs out a laugh but doesn’t say anything, just readjusts the blanket.

When the documentary is over, Yoongi’s barely conscious. He feels Taehyung shifting, though, like he’s getting up, and he wraps his arms around him tighter. “No,” he mumbles, voice muffled since he’s talking into Taehyung’s shirt.

Taehyung brushes a hand through Yoongi’s hair and Yoongi leans into the gesture, silently asking for more.

Taehyung obliges but quietly says, “I should probably get going, hyung. It’s getting late and the weather’s turned to shit. I want to make sure I catch the last bus home.”

“No,” Yoongi repeats. “Stay.”

Taehyung stills and in Yoongi’s sleepy brain, an inkling starts that maybe Taehyung doesn’t want to stay. He opens his mouth to back track, to make sure he doesn’t feel any pressure, but his boyfriend beats him to it.

“You want me to spend the night?”

His voice sounds a little vulnerable and that’s what makes Yoongi straighten, blanket dropping around him as he looks up and finally takes in his face.

Taehyung blinks but he’s biting his lip nervously.

Yoongi nods and reaches up, gently tugging Taehyung’s bottom lip from his teeth. He brushes his thumb over Tae’s cheek, watches him slowly blink.

“I want you to spend the night,” Yoongi says simply. “You’ve had a hard week and I don’t want you out in this kind of weather if I can help it. Plus, you’re better than a pillow,” he grins.

Taehyung grins too, quick and bright, before it dims a little and he’s staring at Yoongi with a look in his eye that’s a little too intense for so late at night. “Just to sleep?”

“Yeah?” It’s Yoongi’s turn to blink. “I haven’t slept more than three hours a night this month and I’m about to pass out. There’s no way we’re doing anything but sleeping. Are you not tired?”

His mind is a little fuzzy and he feels a little dumb but it’s almost midnight and he had been so close to sleep before Taehyung had started to leave. He just wants to get back to that point as quickly as possible. He really hopes Taehyung doesn’t want to put another movie on-- his couch is comfortable but his bed is even more so and he doesn’t want to actually fall asleep just to have to drag himself to bed later.

Taehyung watches him for an impenetrable moment before he’s smiling again and standing abruptly. Yoongi groans as he almost falls face first where Taehyung was just sitting and Tae laughs as he hauls Yoongi up too, tangled in the blanket.

“Time to sleep,” Taehyung says brightly and Yoongi groans again but doesn’t try to hide his smile as he lets the blanket fall to the floor.

Deciding to leave it until morning, he forgets about the blanket as he guides Taehyung down the hallway, towards his bedroom. He has an extra toothbrush and offers Taehyung some clothes to change into and they stumble through a night time routine that’s remarkably comfortable, for all it’s their first time.

Yoongi blames it on the fact that he’s too tired to give a shit and as soon as he’s done, he falls into bed. Taehyung joins him seconds later and without thinking, Yoongi’s scooting closer, shifting until he’s right back where he was on the couch.

He settles against Taehyung’s side, laying his head over his heart and sighing deep as he wraps an arm around Taehyung’s middle.

Taehyung, for his part, seems comfortable, relaxing into the sheets and tangling their legs together. One of his arms sweeps down Yoongi’s back and it feels so good-- Yoongi is quickly falling back asleep-- until his boyfriend’s hand lands on his hip.

Yoongi stiffens a little as Taehyung’s hand slides under his shirt to rest against the bare skin of his lower back.

Suddenly more awake, Yoongi’s unaccountably nervous. Only now does it occur to him what Taehyung might have meant when he asked if they’d just be sleeping and he feels a little stupid for not picking up the hint earlier.

Still, Taehyung’s breathing slow and deep-- he might even already be asleep-- and Yoongi knows that he doesn’t have anything to worry about, that at least for tonight he could shy away and talk to him tomorrow, lay all his cards out on the table and deal with the fallout then.

He’s so deep into his thoughts, wondering if that hand is innocent or if there’s deeper meaning lingering in the touch, when Taehyung suddenly stills.

He deliberately moves his hand an inch, moves his thumb over the sensitive skin of Yoongi’s back.

Yoongi shivers but holds his breath.

“This okay?” Taehyung whispers the question into his ear, kisses it for good measure.

Knowing all the ways this could blow up in his face, Yoongi pushes up to his elbows and makes out Taehyung’s face in the moonlight. His eyes are sleepy but there’s a focus there and it’s all on Yoongi.

He doesn’t answer right away, takes stock. The truth is, he has no problems with this-- as long as this is what it stays.

He likes being close to Taehyung, likes when his boyfriend pulls him closer, stakes a claim even.

And Taehyung’s hand is warm, almost burning on his back, and it feels good, damned good.

Shaking his head a little, Yoongi eventually says, “It’s fine.” His voice is low as he tacks on, “No more, though.”

Part of him thinks that Taehyung might protest. Even if it’s late, even if neither of them had intentions, Yoongi’s been with people in the past who took one no as an always no-- and while it would be an always no from him, Yoongi didn’t want to deal with that headache tonight.

Thankfully, it looks like his momentary stress was unneeded. Taehyung just grins, sleepy at the edges, and pulls Yoongi down to kiss him. It’s firm but closed mouth and when he ends it a few seconds later, he gently guides Yoongi back to their previous position.

“No more,” he agrees easily enough.

It feels like Taehyung falls asleep the next minute, hand heavy on Yoongi’s back, breathing even.

Yoongi, for his part, knows that he’s not far behind.

Curling into Taehyung’s warmth, Yoongi sleeps better than he has in weeks. His last thought before passing out is that he’s so glad he met Taehyung, so happy that they’re here now, that he has someone who listens and cares and seems fine with going slowly.

Burying his face in Taehyung’s neck, Yoongi sighs, kisses his pulse, and falls asleep.

Without opening his eyes, Taehyung knows that it’s midmorning. The sun is bright against his eyelids and he shies away from it, buries his face in a messy mop of hair that smells like strawberries.

It’s only when the body attached to the messy hair wiggles a little that Taehyung wakes up enough to notice their position.

Now, Taehyung knows that he needs something to hold on to when he’s sleeping. In Jimin’s more colorful words, he’s a goddamn octopus-- and like the predator, will only squeeze you tighter if you try to escape.

It is what it is, as far as he’s concerned. However, things always get a little more complicated when he starts sleeping with someone new.

Yoongi-- so far at least-- is proving to be the exception to every rule Taehyung’s got.

They’ve been together for months at this point and Taehyung has taken to sleeping over at least once a week. Ever since that first time when he’d surprised Yoongi with dinner and had stayed late enough for his boyfriend to offer, it’s become a new little tradition of theirs.

Taehyung will come over for movie nights and almost always ends up spending the night. It’s a nice routine they’ve settled into, spicing it up occasionally with a weekend too, or a night at Taehyung’s, though that happens less often because he lives with Jimin.

It’s been weeks of them sleeping together and Taehyung loves it. He was uncertain that first night when Yoongi had asked him to stay. He’s taken dates up on that in the past, only for them to clearly have meant something by it.

That night, Taehyung was wiped out from fixing a screw-up with work and Yoongi had clearly had the day from hell but Taehyung’s always been a little amazed and repulsed at just how frequently people like to have sex, no matter their mood. He’d taken a chance on Yoongi, though, and it had paid off.

It was nice and easy getting ready for bed together and Yoongi’s thread count is definitely higher than his own because his hyung’s bed felt like a cloud and Taehyung had been sinking fast.

So fast, he’d been mostly asleep when he’d slipped a hand under his boyfriend’s shirt-- Taehyung likes skinship, especially when falling asleep with someone-- and hadn’t really noticed anything amiss until he’d realized Yoongi was stiff as a board on top of him.

He’d been so enjoying this new level of their relationship-- they kissed! Yoongi was comfortable enough to cuddle with him! They were sleeping in the same bed!-- but as soon as he’d realized, Taehyung had been stressed, even mostly asleep.

Wondering if Yoongi was going to take his hand as an invitation-- or perhaps they just weren’t ready yet-- he’d been very relieved when Yoongi had let the hand stay with a firm order of nothing else.

Taehyung was beyond happy to stick to Yoongi’s limits, especially considering his own would’ve been damn near identical.

When they’d woken up the next morning, Taehyung had been wrapped around Yoongi, which is not dissimilar to how they are now.

Yoongi makes a very good little spoon, curving back into Taehyung, limp and soft around the edges.

Taehyung has a leg over Yoongi’s hip, an arm slung low over his middle, fingers brushing over the bare skin of his stomach. His nose is in Yoongi’s hair, a little ticklish but too nice to make him move away.

This isn’t the first time Taehyung’s woken up like this, but each time there’s a tiny almost imperceptible but definitely present sliver of dread that spreads through him. There’s not an inch of space between them and Taehyung worries that it’s too much, too intimate or suggestive.

Every morning they wake up together, Taehyung wonders if this will be the time Yoongi wants more. They’ve been dating for almost five months but Yoongi has yet to even hint that he wants to have sex.

Most of his relationships have ended right around this time. When his partners realize that Taehyung isn’t a prude or just shy, when they finally understand that Taehyung means it when he says sex will not be happening and that time won’t change his mind, that nothing can change his mind on the matter.

Yoongi is such a gentleman, though. His grumpy hyung, Taehyung thinks sleepily with a grin. Yoongi never pushes Taehyung, never makes it feel like he’s just waiting for Taehyung to give the green light. He acts sincerely pleased and satisfied with what they do now. The cuddling is a wonderfully often thing these days, Yoongi soaking up affection like a sun-soaked kitten.

Then there’s the kissing. Things get a little heated sometimes but Yoongi never reaches for more, seems content enough to sit in Taehyung’s lap and hold him close and kiss him until he’s breathless.

Taehyung’s never waited so long to tell his partner that he’s ace but things are going so well with Yoongi. He doesn’t want to jinx it.

Which brings him to now. While Taehyung rarely likes to look a gift horse in the mouth, he’s well aware that many people wake up in a certain mood.

Thankfully, things have never been awkward with Yoongi but every morning, Taehyung wonders if this is it, if Yoongi will turn around and kiss Taehyung but keep going past his limits.

Granted, Yoongi doesn’t know his limits and would never play fast and loose with them if he did but it’s usually the kind of thing one learns in the heat of the moment, at least in Taehyung’s experience.

It’s starting to be a bit much, if Taehyung’s being honest. He’s getting tired of worrying about Yoongi’s reactions to things. He’s a perfect boyfriend-- grumpy yes but also soft and encouraging and attentive. He listens to Taehyung and surprises him with date ideas or little gifts that he says just remind him of Taehyung, always checks in when he knows Taehyung has something big going on.

He can talk to Yoongi about everything-- well most everything-- and his hyung makes him laugh and fills him with so much fondness that he knows it’s love at this point.

Not that he’s said anything, at least not yet, but Taehyung knows he’s rapidly reaching the point where he won’t be able to hold the words back-- not when Yoongi bowls a strike and does his funny little dance or when he’s cooking in Taehyung and Jimin’s tiny kitchen and trying to teach them too or when he’s working on song lyrics and looks so completely in his own little world that Taehyung’s left captivated by how pretty and talented his boyfriend is.

Taehyung’s so gone for Yoongi.

But every time he realizes that, he remembers that there’s a very important piece of himself that he hasn’t shared. He remembers that it affects their relationship, that it could bruise or even break it.

Taehyung doesn’t like to admit it but the prospect of Yoongi not being okay with things-- being so patient only under the guise that eventually everything would come to fruition-- makes Taehyung’s gut coil with dread.

Those thoughts and their implications are getting harder to ignore but whenever Yoongi starts wiggling around again, this time with purpose, it’s still so easy to put it on the back burner.

It’s hard to focus on tomorrow’s uncertainty when he has Yoongi in his arms, soft with sleep and smiling up at him with eyes narrowed against the sun.

“Morning,” Yoongi says softly, voice so low it’s almost indecipherable.

Humming a silly little tune, Taehyung leans down and kisses Yoongi. “Good morning, hyung.”

The two of them rest like that and Taehyung is almost positive Yoongi’s falling back asleep.

Taehyung doesn’t know how long they sleep like that, sheets warming under the morning sun until it’s almost too hot. He doesn’t move though, stuck in the sticky sweet feeling of being so close to Yoongi.

He’s learned a lot about Yoongi since they started dating. It took ages for Yoongi to become comfortable with him but Taehyung has patience to spare when it counts and watching his Suga-hyung-- as he’s taken to calling his boyfriend just to see him blush-- get to the point where he doesn’t hesitate to reach out, to ask for affection, makes Taehyung’s heart bloom with a combination of pride and fondness.

Yoongi curls up tighter into Taehyung. His breath is warm and slow against Taehyung’s neck and there’s no place he’d rather be, then right here.

They have plans to meet their friends later for dinner but until then, it’s just the two of them, wrapped around each other, enjoying the closeness.

This is Taehyung’s favorite kind of intimacy, when he’s so close to someone else that his own edges are blurred. He doesn’t need more than this, definitely doesn’t want anything else. For now, he rests with Yoongi and decides not to worry about expectations or confessions.

The quiet beckons when Yoongi’s the one he’s sharing it with. Taehyung wiggles down until they’re ’re face to face, ignoring his boyfriend grumbling about how he was already comfortable.

“Suga-hyung,” Taehyung whispers and Yoongi’s eyelids flutter even if he keeps them closed. His smile peaks out though, small and shy, and he ducks his head to keep Taehyung from seeing.

Yoongi’s too adorable, Taehyung thinks and he just knows his face is doing something stupid, his heart eyes out full force, his grin so wide his cheeks ache with the fondness of it all.

Shifting closer, he’s surprised when Yoongi’s the one who closes the last bit of distance between them. Eyes still closed, his lips find Taehyung’s and he sighs into the kiss, something soft and slow that makes Taehyung feel like melting chocolate.

They spend most of the morning like that, trading kisses between dozing and it’s Taehyung’s idea of perfection, his official favorite way to start the day.

Taehyung kisses like spun sugar with a molten edge and Yoongi can’t get enough. His boyfriend lets out these tiny little sounds, low whimpers, and Yoongi makes them his own.

Breaking apart for a split second to catch his breath, Yoongi dives back in. Taehyung’s hands sweep down, from resting against his throat all the way down to his hips and then he’s tugging Yoongi up, nudging him until he gets the hint.

Yoongi keeps kissing him as he’s half-lifted, half scrambles into his boyfriend’s lap. He’s so warm and Yoongi leans into it, just a little desperate.

It’s fun to lose himself in Taehyung-- in his hands, surrounded by his scent, lost in the way Taehyung keeps him close, then closer still.

They don’t do this often but sometimes Yoongi gets in a mood. Sometimes Taehyung looks at him and his gaze-- always intense-- burns straight through him. For Yoongi, this is one of his final doors unlocked and left open.

Taehyung walks through it like he’s done with all the rest-- tentatively, and then once it’s established that they’re both okay with the latest boundary line, with a shameless kind of enthusiasm.

Kissing is intimate for Yoongi and it had taken him a long time to realize that just because he liked it-- not just greeting pecks and chaste morning kisses-- but the way warmth flows throw him when he’s breathing someone else’s air, the slow sometimes desperate sweep of tongue, the bite-then-soothe rhythm that makes his mind all hazy at the edges, didn’t mean he had to like the rest.

In college, there had been enough drunken makeout sessions in corners of low lit living rooms or the dark edges of a bar’s dance floor for Yoongi to realize that he liked kissing well enough but enjoyed it far more when he knew the person, when there was an extra level of safety and fondness that just made everything that much better, that much easier to let himself go.

In college, he’d also learned that most people took Yoongi’s enjoyment for consent to everything else. He’d had more than one person call him a tease, tell him that he’d lead them on.

For most people, these kinds of kisses would only be a precursor to more but this, right here, is Yoongi’s happy place.

Taehyung’s hair is messy with the way Yoongi’s been running his hands through it. He holds Yoongi securely, close but not tight, and he hums into the kiss, wanting but not needy.

Taehyung hasn’t ever hinted for more-- never urged Yoongi past his comfort zone. There’s no desperate bucking of hips, no pulling and grinding, nothing but Taehyung’s mouth, warm and eager, and his hands wandering over Yoongi’s back.

Yoongi startles a little, though, as Taehyung’s hands smooth down to land on his ass, not groping or aggressive, just resting. He pulls back because this is new territory and even though Taehyung doesn’t seem especially eager for more, Yoongi needs to know what he’s thinking, if his wandering hands are trying to guide Yoongi into something else.

After all, they’ve been dating for almost six months and this is the most they’ve done. Yoongi knows by now that his boyfriend possesses the patience of a saint, that he’s guilelessly happy no matter what they’re doing, but Yoongi’s never made it this far into a relationship without The Talk happening.

He’s breathing a little fast and takes a few seconds to catch his breath, to settle. Taehyung lets him but can’t seem to resist a quick nip to his bottom lip before he noses along Yoongi’s jaw.

His hands are still on Yoongi’s ass, warm even through denim.

“Taehyungie,” Yoongi whispers, taking a deep breath and meeting his boyfriend’s eyes. “Your hands are on my butt,” he says plainly, part question.

Taehyung grins, pats his ass like he’s proud of himself. “You have a very cute butt, Yoongi-ah,” he replies seriously. His lips twitch into a smile he tries to tamp down.

Despite feeling his cheeks warm, Yoongi wraps his arms around Taehyung’s neck and leans in until their foreheads are touching. “Are you trying to get into my pants, Taehyung-ah?”

Watching the way Taehyung’s eyes widen, Yoongi almost wants to laugh at the panicked look that flares in his boyfriend’s eyes but he keeps his expression the same-- encouraging but carefully blank.

“What-- no, hyung, I promise I’m not trying to get into your pants! You’re just very pretty like this and I wasn’t lying when I said your butt is very cute and soft and I-- Well, I guess I just touched it without thinking,” Taehyung ends sheepishly before lifting his hands off Yoongi entirely and letting them rest in the space between them.

His head is bowed low now so Yoongi can’t read his face but he knows Taehyung. It’s been almost six months and his Taehyungie hasn’t ever been anything but honest with him.

Ignoring the brief stab of guilt that he can’t say the same right now, Yoongi just stares down at the top of Taehyung’s head and wonders where this puts them.

He doesn’t have any particular problems with Taehyung’s hands on his ass. It was just the implication that this could be leading to more that had made Yoongi pause and reconsider. But if this is what it stays-- just kissing and affectionate little touches-- he’s more than okay with that.

Biting his lip a little as he thinks, Yoongi finally clears his throat and offers, “You can put your hands back.”

Looking up, Taehyung studies his face with a combination of wariness and pleasant surprise. “Are you sure,” he asks. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and I want to make sure you know that I’m not expecting anything else. This is fine-- great, perfect-- and I am more than okay with how things are right now.”

Smiling at how his boyfriend is always so eager to make sure they’re both comfortable, Yoongi feels his blush deepen as he reaches for Taehyung’s hands and brings them around until they’re firmly planted on his ass.

“I’m sure,” he says with a grin. He tilts Taehyung’s chin up and like this, straddling him, Yoongi’s taller. “As long as you’re really okay that this is all we do.”

His voice drops a little and there’s a shiver of smugness as he sees the way his boyfriend’s eyes darken at his tone. “I really like kissing you, Taehyung-ah. Want to keep doing that for awhile, if that’s okay with you.”

Taehyung swallows, eyes dropping to Yoongi’s lips. He seems almost dazed as he replies, “That’s fine, hyung. More than fine. Love kissing you, my sweet Suga-hyung,” in a low tone, eyes shining in a mix of anticipation and delight.

Yoongi’s still smiling when he lowers until he’s sitting in Taehyung’s lap, hands clasped behind his neck as he plays with hair at Taehyung’s nape, long and a little grown out.

Humming into the kiss, Taehyung relaxes and things pick back up where they left off.

There’s just something about Taehyung that makes Yoongi’s defenses shatter, almost on their own. He still worries about Taehyung’s reaction-- has talked to Namjoon and Jin and Hobi enough that they’re probably sick of him-- but when they’re like this, just the two of them sharing the same breath, Yoongi really can’t imagine anything changing.

He knows that’s probably naive, that there’s no way he could be lucky enough to find someone so completely okay with never having sex, someone who could find the same ease and contentment in simple kissing but he thinks Taehyung has to come pretty close.

Losing track of time, Yoongi and Taehyung don’t come up for air until the shadows grow long over his apartment, until the sun’s almost completely set and he feels warm and gooey at the edges, just a little sleepy, like Taehyung had poured his warmth into him until he was overflowing.

His mouth feels a little numb, swollen and throbbing lightly and when he pulls back a scant inch, Taehyung’s eyes are dark and Yoongi almost loses himself in the way his boyfriend watches him, not seeming to miss a thing.

But then Taehyung grins and it’s wide and open and desperately satisfied. He leans in until his nose brushes Yoongi’s and Yoongi’s own smile deepens until he can barely see and he just knows his gums are showing.

“Cutie,” Taehyung whispers and it sounds like he’s talking more to himself than to Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, just looks up at Taehyung. He knows there are stars in his eyes and in this moment, it slides home, everything that Taehyung makes him feel.

They fit together in a way Yoongi’s never really had, especially not with a partner. He makes Yoongi laugh, makes him feel safe and like there’s no place he’d rather be than right at his side.

Yoongi suddenly knows that this is it, this is love. He’s in love with Taehyung and the realization isn’t a dousing of cold water but more like sinking into a warm bath.

On its heels, though, is the apprehension of wondering what his boyfriend will say when he finally comes clean. His smile doesn’t falter and he still hugs Taehyung close for long minutes after the kissing is over, when they’re catching their breath and letting things simmer back down to simply enjoying each other’s closeness.

Still, Yoongi’s brain flies startling quick in the background, knowing that he has to tell Taehyung soon that he’s ace and that being okay with kissing for now has to mean being okay with kissing always.

Slowly, his heart slows to match Taehyung’s and he hums as Taehyung plays absently with his hair, as his other hand moves to rest against his back in a gesture that’s become almost expected.

Soon, Yoongi thinks. He’ll tell Taehyung soon and deal with whatever fallout emerges as best he can.

Taehyung turns off the water, reaches for a towel and absently wraps it around his waist.

He’d stayed the night at Yoongi’s again and the two of them have plans to spend the entire weekend together. The weather is supposed to be pleasant-- sunny and warm but not hot-- and they’re starting things off with brunch at home before Yoongi’s taking him to a tech expo.

Taehyung’s already made dinner reservations at a spot nearby, aims to surprise Yoongi with dinner on their patio. Afterwards, they’re going to an evening exhibition of a local art museum that Taehyung had bought tickets to months before.

It’s their six month anniversary and as he gets dressed, Taehyung finds himself smiling, something bright and happy at the way they’ve grown together the past half-year.

Things are so good with Yoongi. They’ve had a few disagreements-- when Yoongi brushed him off for a week because his mental health had made everything hard and exhausting and he hadn’t wanted to drag Taehyung down with him or when Taehyung had become uncharacteristically short with Yoongi for a few days, work riding him hard and his frustration and stress had plopped itself right in the middle of their relationship.

They talked, though, and those minor blips only served to make them stronger.

Still, it’s been six months and they haven’t talked about sex. Taehyung has a deep and abiding love for kissing and realizing that Yoongi felt the same, that this was something else they could enjoy together, had made Taehyung light up from the inside, all warm and fuzzy with the feelings Yoongi brings out in him.

At this point, Taehyung doesn’t know how to broach the subject. Six months is a long time to keep something like this under wraps and no matter how Jungkook and Jimin tell him that Yoongi is so gone for him that there’s no question, they’ll make it through this even better than before, Taehyung’s been burned in the past and it’s that lingering fear that keeps him in place now.

Yoongi never pressures him, never hints that he’s unsatisfied with things. They’ve reached a point where they’re almost too comfortable with each other.

Taehyung’s unselfconscious about nudity and Yoongi doesn’t mind when he leaves the shower, using his towel to rub at his hair instead of to cover his modesty. Yoongi, by contrast, is still shy and had only recently become comfortable enough to walk around shirtless when Taehyung’s around.

They’ve grown so much and Taehyung knows the little things about Yoongi that can both drive him crazy and make him feel like he’s going to explode in a mess of fondness and love. He knows how his boyfriend takes his tea, what his go-to candle scent is, the most effective ways to get him out of his head when he’s on the edge of drowning.

And Yoongi knows him, too. He knows that Taehyung doesn’t like coffee but has an unabashed weakness for smoothies. He knows when to dig in his heels about something and when to let Taehyung come to him. Yoongi sometimes surprises him with how observant he is, even when it seems like he wasn’t paying attention to something to begin with.

All of which bring Taehyung to now. Taehyung keeps a few things over at Yoongi’s now and he takes his time getting ready, the strong smell of coffee and vanilla letting him know that Yoongi’s well underway in cooking breakfast.

Makeup done, just enough to define his eyes and make his complexion flawless, Taehyung runs a hand through his hair and heads toward the hallway that will open up into the living room and kitchen.

The thoughts about finally telling Yoongi have been weighing heavier in his mind and when he sees his boyfriend, cracking eggs into a large glass bowl in between sips of coffee, Taehyung’s mind blanks at the perfect picture in front of him.

He blames that for the way his mouth just acts on its own.

“Is anything missing with us, hyung?”

Yoongi looks up from the eggs and frowns as he meets Taehyung’s gaze. “No?”

While Taehyung’s internal yelling at himself for broaching the subject today of all days when things are going so well and it’s supposed to be a calm, no-stress weekend, he just repeats, “No?” His voice is tight with suspicion. He supposes that now that he’s started, he might as well just finish things.

Yoongi squints at him. “No. Do you think anything is lacking between us?”

Taken aback, Taehyung just blinks. “Of course not.”

Yoongi looks like he wants to say something-- eyes flicking to the side, avoiding his gaze-- but he doesn’t. “Okay.”

And apparently Taehyung’s brain has just lost all sense because he doesn’t leave well enough alone. Yoongi seems uneasy and Taehyung doesn’t want him to feel bad even if he can’t give him what he wants.

Deciding to just go for it, Taehyung takes a deep breath. “Do you want to have sex,” he asks bluntly.

Yoongi, who had been taking a drink from his coffee, chokes. Taehyung rushes over and pats him on the back, maybe a little too hard in his panicked zeal and Yoongi winces, coughing a little.

Yoongi recovers from the brink of death a little too fast, if Taehyung is being completely honest because it’s just moments later that the kitchen is completely silent and waiting for an answer is becoming agonizing.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything for a long while and Taehyung’s nerves are crackling at what it must mean. His boyfriend must be trying to find a delicate way to let Taehyung know that he’s patient but he’s definitely waiting.

Now that he’s not coughing a lung out, Yoongi’s facade has shifted into something blank. Taehyung can’t get a read on him, which is concerning since he’s prided himself on learning his boyfriend over the past several months. Yoongi is never blank with him, not anymore.

Finally, Yoongi clears his throat. Instead of answering, though, he just flips the tables. “Do you want to have sex?”

And Taehyung’s brain is fried from the past four minutes so he just answers without thinking too much about it. “No,” he says, firm but with an undercurrent of nervousness.

Yoongi stills. Looks up until he’s looking right into Taehyung’s eyes. “No?”

His voice is soft, aching with uncertainty, and Taehyung suddenly feels so, so bad that Yoongi must think that he’s not into him or something else equally as wrong and off the mark.

It takes more courage than Taehyung thought he had, to maintain eye contact and to finally say what’s been hiding on his tongue all along. “Yoongi-hyung, I love you but I don’t want to have sex with you. I’ll never want to have sex with you.”

Taehyung expects Yoongi to look shocked, maybe a little offended.

Yoongi proves him right on the first count, eyes going wide as he stares at Taehyung like he doesn’t know him. However, instead of going on the defensive, it’s like all of Yoongi’s strings have been cut and he fairly collapses into Taehyung, burying his face in Tae’s sweater.

“Oh, thank God.” His voice is muffled but Taehyung hears him perfectly clearly nonetheless.

Now it’s Taehyung’s turn to be confused. Before he can do much more than open his mouth, though, Yoongi’s straightening and looking up at him with a smile that takes over his whole face.

“Taehyung-ah,” he says slowly, making sure that Taehyung’s paying attention. “I have something to tell you.”

Rubbing an arm up and down Yoongi’s back, Taehyung just nods at him encouragingly. “Go ahead, hyung. I’m listening.”

Taking a slow breath, Yoongi says, “I’m ace, Taehyung. I don’t want to have sex with you either.”

Taehyung blinks. Opens his mouth. Closes it. Parses through the handful of words that have just set his world off its axis for a split moment before it rights itself again and then suddenly he’s laughing.

It’s soft with a hysterical edge that neither mention. “Oh my God,” he says, voice shocked but the delight seeping through.

Suddenly, everything makes sense.

Yoongi holds him as Taehyung makes himself smaller, small enough to bury his face in Yoongi’s neck. He wonders if his boyfriend can feel his smile against his skin.

Running careful fingers through his hair, Yoongi kisses the shell of Taehyung’s ear. “We should’ve known,” he says wisely.

Sighing, Taehyung melts into Yoongi’s embrace. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Though I did think it was weird that I slept over so much and you never tried anything.”

Yoongi huffs out a laugh. “You gave me a heart attack when you slid your hand under my shirt that first time. Not to mention when you grabbed my ass.”

Laugh loud in the quiet between them, Taehyung straightens so he can look at Yoongi fully. “I was so worried to tell you that I was ace. I thought it would ruin things, or at least bruise them for a little while.”

Yoongi sighs and this time there’s a sad edge to it. “I was worried too,” he confesses quietly. “Especially once so much time had passed. Thought you might think I was leading you on.”

Slowly, Taehyung shakes his head. “Never, hyung,” he whispers.

Smiling a little, Yoongi raises a little on his toes until he’s the same height as Taehyung and then he leans in and kisses Taehyung. It’s something delicate and full of wonder. “I’m glad we’ve finally got that cleared up,” he mumbles between them and Taehyung just hums in response.

The waffles are definitely cold by now and the eggs are forgotten as Taehyung kisses Yoongi in the kitchen.

The sun is bright and a weight he hadn’t even known was so heavy is lifted away from him, makes him feel free and invincible and like all is right in the world-- in his own little world with Yoongi.

Thinking about the morning’s developments, he laughs a little into their kiss and Yoongi starts smiling until it’s hard to kiss at all.

In hindsight, there were probably so many signs that he and Yoongi had always been on the right wavelength, even if they’d been too stuck in their heads to see it.

Pulling back a little, Taehyung rubs their noses together just to see Yoongi’s face scrunch, cute and reluctantly endeared.

“What are your limits, Yoongi-hyung?” He asks, curious and not wanting to run into any more misunderstandings.

Yoongi shrugs. “We’ve pretty much hit them all,” he says with an open expression. “I love kissing and don’t mind if it gets a little messy but I’ll never want anything more-- anything below the belt. What about you?”

Humming a little, Taehyung slowly waltzes them out of the kitchen and into the living room. “I’ve gone further and haven’t hated it but I’d prefer not to do anything that involves removing underwear. I love kissing, though, especially when it’s you. I like holding you, like feeling you on top of me,” he admits softly and smiles as he sees pink sweep over his Suga-hyung’s cheeks.

He moves them until they’re falling onto the couch in a mess of limbs. Yoongi’s looking up at him like he’s hung the stars in the sky just for them and Taehyung soaks up the wide-eyed look like he’s bottling sunshine.

Yoongi sighs a little, rests his head against Taehyung’s cheeks.

Taehyung enjoys the quiet. He settles into the knowledge that nothing has to change, that everything can stay just as perfect as it’s been. While he knows there will be disagreements in the future, he can rest easy knowing now that sex will never be a reason why.

He doesn’t realize just how close he is to falling asleep with Yoongi as a warm weight in his arms, until his boyfriend suddenly straightens.

“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi says softly, carding his fingers through his hair.

Looking up, Taehyung sees Yoongi watching him with the softest look. “What is it, hyung?”

Silent for a minute, Yoongi finally just smiles. He ducks close for a quick kiss and when he pulls back, he’s grinning. “I love you.”

Eyes going wide, Taehyung repeats the words in his head a few hundred times in the space it takes Yoongi to blink innocently.

Taehyung feels struck dumb, hearing the words making him so happy he can hardly bear it, and Yoongi just takes it in stride.

“Earlier you said that you loved me but you didn’t want to have sex with me. I figured I shouldn’t leave you hanging,” Yoongi says casually.

And Taehyung hadn’t even realized that he’d confessed, not when his heart had been going a mile a minute at the prospect of telling Yoongi his biggest secret that wasn’t ever supposed to be a secret, not really at least. A secret of omission, he supposes absently.

“You love me,” he finally asks, too vulnerable. He’s not surprised, not really, it had just been a shock to hear the words-- because while Yoongi doesn’t hide once he’s comfortable, he still keeps words close to his chest like they’re infinitely valuable jewels that must be looked after with care.

Yoongi’s love is in the way he cares for others, the way he cares for Taehyung. To hear the words makes Taehyung’s heart settle into something that feels a lot like home.

“I love you,” Yoongi says again, just as light but twice as serious.

Taehyung grins and pulls Yoongi close in a hug that squeezes his ribs. “I love you too, hyung. My grumpy sweet, kitten hyung.”

Yoongi’s rolling his eyes when Taehyung releases him and the two just watch each other for a few minutes. Taehyung’s lost in his boyfriend’s eyes, so clear and deep and showing everything he feels.

The past six months have gone by in the blink of an eye, Yoongi settling into his life so quietly, so completely, that Taehyung is still realizing how connected they’ve become.

Taehyung feels good, so good, knowing that they’re on the same page where it counts, that they’re both comfortable and safe and loved.

Yoongi kisses his shoulder, nosing along it like a kitten looking for love, and Taehyung does his best to make sure he always feels the force of it.

They lose track of time, and most of breakfast is unsalvageable by the time they remember.

They clean up the kitchen-- it taking twice as long as it should since they stop so often for quick pecks and not-so-quick kisses that make Taehyung’s smile dopey at the corners-- and they end up just stopping by a coffee shop on the way to the expo.

And Taehyung listens as Yoongi goes on for long minutes at every stall they pass, talking about how cool the technology is or what he could do with such equipment or what he’s hoping to see next year.

And hours later, when it’s his turn to show Yoongi around the museum, losing himself in talking about technique and little trivia facts about the artists, Taehyung comes back to himself just to see Yoongi staring up at him with wide eyes, completely attentive and so fond that it makes Taehyung’s heart ache in sympathy.

They end the day wrapped together and Taehyung falls asleep close enough to feel Yoongi’s heart beat, feeling his own echo in tandem.

#my writing #strawberry skies #taegi fic #taegi au #i can not believe this ended up being over 10k what the fuck

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