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yinses · 3 years

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—hawks ft. established relationship + dom!keigo + exhibition + overstim

rating: 18+ a/n: thank you so much to @ultimate-astridwriting for allowing me to be part of this collab !! it was the shove i needed to get back into the fandom. hawks has always been my favorite hero so i hope to do him justice.

➳ impatient collab masterlist

fist pressed against his cheek, he browsed over the sight before him, taking it all in without considering really any details. fighting a smirk, he cocked an eyebrow.

“i’m not feeling the color. change it for the other one.”

to be frank, he had no particular preferences for color, design, texture or any of that shit–though, he did have a weakness for anything with a pretty flare to it, the air of innocence that he loved to bathe you in with all the frills and fluff. however, it didn’t mean that he wasn’t fond of deciding which palettes suited you best. but he had a specific reason as to why he voiced that particular opinion of his.

sale’s representatives, all mascara-lined eyes and glossy lips, held your hands by your side in a surrendering position as they paraded you in front of your boyfriend as though this was his own private fashion show. and in a way it was, he’d spent good hard earned money renting out the area for a few hours. enjoying it all from his throne placed perfectly in front of the changing rooms, watching how you were dragged in and out by the forceful employees with him picking out what items you wore.

the clatter of the sale’s girls dragging you back in the changing room again, drew him from his thoughts. you were a flushed mess, struggling to wriggle away from their sharp nails while insisting that you could walk on your own. overall, you'd have been rather accommodating to his whims. but you always were. and as such a good girl, he would reward you for it. for now though, he couldn’t resist giving you a mocking smirk when you tried to grab him and failed miserably at that.

back to the prison of hands again, he noted, as they closed the door behind them and made a fuss over what you disliked and what he wanted. as more girls pecked at you to stay still while they taught you how to wear the clothing properly. outside, keigo waited patiently for them to be done as his eyes travelled from one end of the store to the other, looking at the fancy lingerie and wondering what would actually be perfect for you. but then again, to be painfully honest, you made anything here look good.

and then there's also another fact that he had to come to terms with.

he liked you best without anything on.

with only your bare skin, lying amidst the fluffy pillow with silken sheets tangled around your body. legs demurely spread, hands placed above your head and looking as though you were begging to be dominated. that was certainly the very image of excellence that any man could ever ask for. wanton eyes, warm cheeks, slightly parted lips, panting–ah, but you would gasp wordlessly as he’d stolen your voice many rounds prior. keeping his eyes peeled on the floor, the man shuddered briefly and rolled his shoulders back to remind himself that he was in a store and any further acts of indecency would totally be out of the question. especially when he remembered how you straddled him last night, thighs over his torso. sinking in inch by inch, throwing your head back when he bucked up a bit too hard on you–

"mr. hawks, what do you think of this?"

there you stood, with your hands still raised again, eyes watering under the torment of these awful ladies. biting your lips with warmth tainting your cheeks, hair cascading over your shoulders and meeting the body that was hugged by a pair of lingerie. strapless and curvaceous mounds of yours, covered with a brassiere. a matching panty, complete with small laces forming gathers on the hems as they trailed invitingly towards to garter at your thighs.

he stared.

and blinked.

only once.

"sir?" one of the older females repeated, raising her eyebrows. "…what do you think?"

trying to cover up the fact that his awkward silence was making the room uncomfortable with anticipation, keigo casually leaned backwards and crossed his legs together. his wings fluttered in reflection of his thoughts, rising and falling with each new epiphany. dark eyes walked all over your body, drinking in how your breasts were perfectly pressed together and how your legs trembled when his eyes stopped at the ribbons of the panty. finally hovering over your face, where when eyes met, your blush darkened and you immediately dropped your gaze to your bare feet. he smirked at that sinfully innocent reaction of yours.

coy today, were you not?

without skipping a beat, keigo drew out a card and threw it over to one of the sale’s girls, who fumbled as she tried to catch it with her clammy fingers. eyes still locked at your face, knowing that with his stare alone he was making you feel uncomfortable. and damn, he still loved seeing you squirm around like a virgin on her wedding night.

"i'm taking everything that she tried on just now," he answered loftily, still seated on the cushiony sofa, leaning his head against one arm and letting the other one tap rhythmically on the armrest. when the employees all squeaked out a pathetic noise of agreement, keigo allowed his lips to curve upwards in a smirk as he drawled out the next order; "charge what you need on it, i don't give a shit. and oh, and don't forget to charge what it takes to buy this section for another hour. turn off the surveillance too while you're at it because this area's mine from the time being."

needless to say, their faces instantly decolorized. but they wouldn’t challenge his demands. the brief raise of his massive scarlet wings was an unnecessary reminder as they stretch languidly without threat. he was a hero after all. who were they to challenge a frivolous form of stress relief?

he had no doubt that they had an inkling of what would occur over the next hour or so. but he was certain the gossip would get lost in the rumor mill.

hawks was a rather eccentric individual. what isn’t he up to these days?

keigo had never saw the staff evaporating and clearing the area within less than a minute as they closed off the doors behind them, leaving this particular section untouched for the next event that was about to take place.

it really did not make you feel any better though.

"little dove."

he watched as you jumped, realizing his attention was solely on you now. you raised your eyes to his again, locking eyes with deviously glinting ones. right now, at this moment, keigo knew how much power he held over you, and damn well he was about to abuse his privileges to no end. leaning snugly against the soft backing of the sofa, he cupped his chin with his palm and arrogantly raised an eyebrow when you shuddered under his disturbing gaze. you looked much as though you were lost and backed into a corner with nowhere else to go. keigo smirked; haughty, superior, dominating you single-handedly, and his other hand rose slightly from the armrest.

a single finger curled inwardly.

a low voice

commanding.

"come here, now"

you knew what came from that tone, but the words didn’t ignite the same spark as it did within the safe space of your home.

you only hesitated briefly, but it was still a second to long for his tastes as his lips already began curling down in disappointment. your heart rapped heedlessly against your ribcage, sent spiraling into an off-beat staccato as you quickly tried to alleviate the shift in mood.

never in your relationship had you considered denying keigo. not the man who laid out everything you could have asked for on a silver platter. it's just that-

your feet crossed the minimal distance necessary to appear agreeable though your face still twists in concern.

“really? …. you want to have sex …. here?”

fingertips grapple anxiously while your eyes dart across the empty but still very publicly accessible room.

“now?”

keigo already look bored with the exchange, digits curling once more with something just outside of patience.

“yes, now.”

his wings flex in consideration, yet he doesn’t move to rise form his seat. instead he changes tactics.

“i just want to show a bit of appreciation for all the pretty things i just bought you.’’

it sounds backwards … as if those should be the words coming out of your mouth not his. but the hint doesn’t come any stronger than the easy grin that spreads across his lips. he even makes a show of lounging back against the cushioned seat, body open in invitation should you dare.

and bite you did, teeth nibbling at the bait as you approach. keigo remains still, though his eyes dance with barely contained excitement as you gingerly crawl into his lap, fancy garments already rubbing enticingly against his thighs?.

the flap of his wings welcome gusts of winds and gratitude as his arms curl around you. the hand at your cheek tilts your head up to meet his gaze. it was always so easy for you to get lost in those specks of liquid gold. but now there was hardly any left to admire with the way his pupils were blown wide with lunch.

a shiver tickles your spine and you’re vaguely away that he’s kissing the line of your jaw, whispering soft words of encouragement as his hips raise to rock subtlety. it all left you shuddering in peaked anticipation as your worries melted into the recesses of your mind.

the hand cupping the roundness of your face stops you before you can lean in for more, the nose brushing against the tip of your nuzzling there in brief affection as he garnered the fraying tips of your attention. “yes?”

the fog of arousal abated a little at the question as your conscious thoughts swam back into the surface to input the code that would spiral you into your deepest desires.

“yes,” you verbally consented as you leaned up into him for a needy kiss. keigo swept his tongue out, meeting the the soft upper palate of your mouth with languid strokes. a rumbling trill greets you when you nibble in response. keigo eagerly chases you into a fevor of song and dance, building your body up to the inevitable fall he plans to send you crashing down in.

when he breaks the kiss, his eyes drop to the price tag still resting innocently against the swell of your bosom. he snaps it away from the fabric, uncaring of the threat against its delicacy as he tosses the flimsy paper to the side.

there were plenty more where it came from. and he was yearning to get the real show on the road.

“now then. how could i possibly show my thanks?”

nails dig into his shoulders for purchase as you rock traction into the firmness of his lap. keigo meets the upward curve of your hips with a sneaky dive of his hand between your thighs where his hand warms the skin there.

you expect him to dip right in, cognitive of the spare time the two of you had to play. but as a dangerous smile twists at his mouth, you realize this is hawks time, a reality that flows differently than everyone else’s.

“trying to decide if i want you to keep these on or not. “ he contemplates aloud, fingers plucking at the elastic.” i mean it would be a shame to leave them out.”

you nod mutely, ready to agree with whatever favored progression. keigo’s gaze narrowed at the silent insinuation “what? you want to make this into a quickie? but we have so many outfits to try.”

you already knew that, acutely aware of each and every article of clothing that had been zipped, tied or squeezed around your body. and you were grateful of each and every addition, would even gladly spend the next few weeks letting him fuck you in each variation against your shared mattress at home.

what you wanted now was for him to come so that you could start that private show within your own walls.

keigo chooses to go for an adorable pout, lips pulling on aged heart strings, yet managing to make them go taut all the same. he waits until your body soften from the tension, aiding the transition with slow strokes against your back and inner leg.

“one pair.”

it’s your back that losses his touch in order for him to bring a single finger in front of your face.

“let me ruin one pair with my come and we can call it quits.”

and you say okay. brining your pelvis back into an enticing dance as you meld that pout into an eager kiss. you were already dressed for the occasion and had all the tips and tricks in your inventory to help him reach his goal. one easy step and you could be on your way.

how naive you still were.

eight pair now. he’d brought you near completion just as many times before halting the grind of your hips with a frown. he mad for a rather convincing curator, inspecting each and every pair of to the finest thread.

‘too blue.’

‘too much lace.’

‘it just doesn’t feel right. ‘

‘why don’t we try something else?’

true to his word, keigo had been determined to find the perfect pair to meet him at the edge of nirvana, and dragged you from one painstakingly near orgasm to the next along the way.

"stop."

you whimpered desperately, pressing your forehead against his shoulder as you forced yourself to remain seated with him throbbing deeply within you. pulsing, hot, too hot. scorching you inwardly and causing strange sensations to sear through your veins. his hands were still on the armrest, they were not on you, they were not driving you crazy with their constant teasing and whatnot this time. because he was not doing anything to make you this crazy when you were already this crazy for him.

his lips smirked against the shell of your ear, a moist tongue peeking out to leave a wet trail. you fought every inch of yourself to stop your hips from moving again. because of his command, you could not move. you could not bring yourself to move. simply because it was his desire and you could not deny him.

"close?" he murmured darkly into your ear, wispy breath tickling your neck. making a sharp sensation run down your spine, forcing you to arch against him and pressing your bare breasts against his chest. he knew it, he knew that he drove you this wanton for him, all desperate and wanting more.

and yes, you were too close.

too close until one more move, he could make you topple over the chasm of ecstasy without even doing anything to you.

"hmm," he whispered this time, continuing his words with a foreboding edge as his lips brushed against your neck, against your ear, over your cheeks and teeth lightly nipping at your bottom lip. making you try to kiss him, but he pulled away just like that and watched in sadistic satisfaction when you gave an exasperated groan. "i was too. and then i saw a pretty olive green peeking out of that pile over there."

there was hardly any vigor left in you to groan.

you pressed your forehead against his slick neck, letting your warm gasps leave his skin, as your head desperately twisted in pinpricks of denied pleasure at his command. it was all a game, one that you could end with a single uttered word from your lips. but you’d never been a quitter, something keigo admired in you. his desires took you on erotic journeys you would have never dared to attempt in prior relationships. perhaps you were becoming just as debauched as he was.

there probably wasn’t even fabric of that color lying around and if there was it they weren’t within his eyesight. keigo was painfully teasing you with this, building up your desire to the most desperate extent because you could not stand anymore. and he knew it too. he throbbed against your walls, the sporadic pulsing sending shrapnel of lust into your loins, and you told yourself that if you were compliant to his orders, then he would surely reward you afterwards.

he would.

he always did.

"okay," he spoke up again, pressing his cheek against yours because he knew that you had if he didn’t end it now, then he wouldn’t get out of it what he wanted. bright eyes were still glowing deviously under the chandeliers of the store, making him appear feral. it provided a visual desire for you to nip his ear, to lick his neck and to kiss his lips.

"you can move now, dove. let’s finish this and go home."

what an alluring goal that was, twinkling encouragingly from finish-line.

you gulped harshly, feeling your legs too weak to push you upwards again. because he stopped you countless times and made a pleasure overload overrun in your body, turning your limbs to jelly.

a simple shake of your head was all the answer that you could muster.

it was either that or you would faint from the sheer ecstasy.

that made him smirk devilishly again when he looked at you, taut cheeks, lust-darkened blue eyes, a trickle of sweat running down his temple from the amount of restraint he was putting on himself. you felt as though you were opened, taken, torn from within by this man alone when he chuckled, pressing those sinful-stained lips to your forehead.

"maybe if you would beg just right, i’d bother to move."

whining, you shake your head as every cry you knew spilled past your lips. you begged, to pleaded keigo to move so that he would put you out of this torture. so that he could make you reach that blinding bliss, that your nerves would tighten and your toes would curl. so that you would clench around him tightly, that he could come together with you in this passionate endeavor.

too desperate, nerves tingling with his every wicked command, your shaking hands slowly rose and cupped his cheeks, feeling his soft, flushed skin under your touch and forcing him to look at you in the face. your lashes falling part way over your gaze. plump, bitten lips drawing closer and closer and closer to him and closer and closer and closer with every second. him slowly moving forward to join his mouth with yours in a desperate kiss, and you suddenly paused, letting only your lips brush against his, not moving forward anymore.

his eyes hardened when he felt your words form at his lips.

please.

it seemed as though playtime was finally over, for now.

keigo adopted a fast and hard pace, thighs jerking up to meet your earnestly with each slap of skin. the force of his thrust jolted you into a haphazard bounce as you fumbled desperately for traction and stability. each pull and push of your joined bodies was accompanied by a tremulous whimper as you gasped and groaned against the shell of his ear. keigo knew the sweet vocalizations weren’t completely for his sake, but more of the aftershocks of the broken damn as they spilled through the cracks of your lips.

he still hummed, pleased as his mouth latched onto a pebbled nipple protruding from the fine silk still managing to encase your breast. it was a combination of the gyration of your hips and his own weakening resolve that triggered his own orgasm as he finally let go with broken explicative.

your own pleasure was brought to you without chase, almost a reward for your efforts as you withered through it. keigo’s quiet praises wash over you like aloe, softening the worst of the burnings sensations as your thighs quake in protest. he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck as his arms encircle you and drag you down with him.

the already too small chaise had to be uncomfortable for his wings with your additional weight but he never voiced a complaint as the rose and fell over your sweaty skin. neither did you, despite the sticky resistance of his spent coating the inside of your thighs. at least you wouldn’t have to walk home in this particular pair. not that you planned on walking period as you grumbled a demands that he would be flying you both home.

he snickers all while peppering a series of kisses against your nose,” anything you want, little dove.”

#hawks x reader #hawks bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha hawks #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #hawks smut

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miss-smutty · 3 years

Text

Forbidden

Chapter 1

A/N- I've teased y'all for so long I hope this series is going to live up to expectations, I'm confident it will though because I'm addicted and it's been super easy for me to write - I'm up to chapter 3 so far so updates can be on time! There's a slight age gap between my professor Hemsy and OC Jess but she's twenty and completely legal. You know this is gunna be a giant tease fest for the first couple of chapters cos that sexual tension is fucking gold 🥵

Summary- Jess meets the man of her dreams and then stupidly leaves without getting his number. Will fate bring them together again?

Word count- 1.5 K

Pairing- Professor!Chris Hemsworth x OC

Warnings- Swearing, age gap

18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 5th August 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

@skyfullofsong123 @swaggysposts

Chapter 2

I pulled out a chair at the last available table in the unusually busy coffee shop, I thought I might've caught a break choosing the one outside of campus but alas I was wrong.

I was about to sit down when the chair opposite me slid out from under the table, my eyes lifted to meet with the most sparkly blue eyes i'd ever seen. The sight of him took my breath away. Literally.

I stood staring, frozen on the spot, my mouth slightly ajar as I looked him up and down. He was tall, so tall, definitely over 6ft and built like a dream. Thick thighs straining against his fitted trousers, wide muscular shoulders and I just knew there was a six-pack hiding behind that tight t-shirt.

"Sorry. You were here first, I'll just grab a take-out." He smirked a side smile, amused at how I was so obviously checking him out but his sexy Australian accent distracted you from anything else.

"It's fine, I'm on my own. I don't mind if you want to sit there too." I mentally face palmed myself, drawing attention to the fact I was alone wasn't the best idea but then again he was alone too. "I don't bite." I added trying my best to flirt.

It seemed to work, he smiled at me as he sat down and I took the time to admire his handsome face. He was quite clearly a lot older than me, the laughter lines around his eyes a tell tale sign but he was still quite possibly the best looking man I'd ever laid eyes on. His hair was fair and the short beard framed his face perfectly but the one thing that stood out the most were those piercing ocean-blue eyes.

"So do you come here often?" I cocked my eyebrow at him over my coffee cup making him laugh at my reaction. "Sorry, it's been a while." He said nervously, running his hand through his hair.

"It's been a while since you spoke to a stranger or…?" I questioned casually.

"It's been a while since I spoke to an attractive woman." He finished, his eyes sparkling as he watched me almost choke on my drink.

"Oh, I err…. I don't think you're doing too badly." I absentmindedly circled my finger around the rim of my cup, crossing my leg over my other and accidently rubbing my foot up his leg. My cheeks felt hot and flushed as I looked up into his eyes and saw him smiling slyly.

"Evidently. We're already playing footsie under the table." He smiled widely, a genuine smile that stretched the corners of his mouth. I smiled back at him shyly, thinking of something to say to change the subject before I ended up looking like a tomato.

"What part of Australia are you from?"

"I'm originally from Melbourne but I lived in Byron Bay before I came to America."

"Awesome. I've always wanted to go to Australia, the Spiders put me off though."

"Yeah I think they put most people off but in heavily populated areas they stay pretty much hidden, I think it's the size that scare people." How have I made this conversation go from flirting to talking about spiders? And how do I get back to flirting?

"Are we still talking about spiders?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly and laughed at the innuendo, flicking my hair over my shoulder. I noticed something in his eyes when I did so, a hunger, just a little flash and then it was gone again. I'm sure I didn't imagine it though because his eyes lingered on my exposed shoulders.

I checked my watch subtly, not wanting him to think he was boring me but I had to get to class and couldn't be late again, not when this semester had only just started.

"I'm really sorry, I'm gonna have to run, I'm going to be late. It was really nice meeting you." I gathered up my bags, ready to leave.

"Already? You've only just got here." He looked disappointed, his smile fading. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something else and then closed again when he saw I was ready to leave. "It was really nice to meet you too, hopefully I'll see you again." His eyes sparkled as he looked into mine, standing from his chair to get the door for me. I felt fireworks when his hand brushed against the small of my back and his face lingered close to mine. The tension was unreal, like we were the only people in the room as his eyes hungrily stared into my soul, undressing me with his eyes. My heart stopped beating when his face moved closer to mine so I could feel his breath on my lips, the smell of coffee and his aftershave filling my nostrils. I paused, my feet routed to the spot, I wanted him to kiss me so badly but I moved away at the last minute. Surely he wasn't actually going to kiss me, we'd only just met, that would be ridiculous. Wouldn't it?

********

I spent most of class daydreaming about my tall handsome stranger and the way he looked at me but most of all how I didn't even get his name. Or his number.

Now I was feeling sorry for myself because it would just be my luck to meet the man of my dreams and then never see him again. So I'd moped about all day and avoided the invitations for drinks after class. Instead I'd

gotten home early, changed into some sweats and settled myself in front of the TV for the night.

"What's up with your face?" My roommate, Ellie said as she walked into our room, throwing her bags onto her bed.

"What're you talking about?"

"Your face. Looks like you're chewing on a wasp."

"Feeling sorry for myself." I pout pathetically.

"Why, what've you done now?" She rolled her eyes, kicking off her shoes and throwing her legs up onto the bed. I felt so lucky to have a roommate like Ellie, during our freshman year she'd become my best friend practically straight away and now after two years together we were practically sisters.

I sat up in bed cross legged and faced Ellie, getting myself ready to spill my misfortunes of the day with her.

"Well, I went to Impresso's this morning to get my morning coffee before class." She nodded, showing her enthusiasm by also sitting cross legged on her own bed, facing me. "And it was packed full of students, there was only one table left. So I went to grab it as soon as I could." She raised her eyebrow at me, wondering where I was going with the story. "And I kid you not, the most attractive man I have ever seen, pulls out the chair opposite me."

"Oh my god! No way. Did you talk? Oh my god, this is like the perfect chick flick. Carry on." I smiled at her excitement.

"I told him I didn't mind if he sat there, I mean of course I didn't mind, you should've seen him El. Oh, oh, oh I almost forgot" I flapped my hands, bouncing on the spot. "He was fucking Australian."

"Fuck off, you're lying. Drop dead gorgeous with the sexiest accent ever. How is this even real? Now remind me why you're sat there with a face like a slapped arse?"

"I panicked when I had to leave, didn't want to be late for class and I didn't get his number, didn't even give him chance to ask for mine."

"Wow! Ok, now I understand. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking, I was panicking and you know what I'm like when I panic." You sulk.

"It's ok, maybe you'll bump into him again."

"Yeah, right. I should be so lucky."

"Cheer up." she says throwing a cushion at me. "There's a party at Alpha Kappa this weekend, I'm sure we can find you someone to help get over your mystery man. Or under should I say?" She raised her eyebrow at me, smiling slyly and making me laugh. She always did know how to cheer me up and maybe a party is what I needed.

There must be some good looking boys around campus that could make me forget about my Australian hunk. Surely? I thought about the guys I'd seen around campus, the guys I'd seen at frat parties and that's definitely not what I wanted. How could a twenty year old boy match to the masculine, experienced man I met this morning. My mind was set, I'd dipped my feet ever slightly into the mature pool and that's what I wanted more than anything. There was always something missing with previous boyfriends and I was tired of all the game playing. I wanted someone who knew what they wanted and wasn't afraid to get it.

The only thing was, he didn't know I was only twenty and I had no way of finding him again. If fate did bring us back together, would he mind that I was still a student? That I couldn't even drink when we went on dates?

Who am I kidding? Of course he would mind, he could get any woman he wanted, why would he want me?

#smut #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #chris Hemsworth series #chris Hemsworth X oc #mcu rpf

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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

Text

bucky barnes x reader. masterlist.

part 1 — part 2 (soon)

a / n. this is a series of 15 mini-drabbles to celebrate the 500 followers' milestone, based on one word for each story. this first part contains 8, and the next one contains 7. it was supposed to be posted one story per day, but by that way, it'd take me to last an eternity to post other works / requests.

words. 1.533.

warning, tags. none, just a bunch of fluffy and cute situations with bucky.

join my tag list.

necklace;

It was the first time since you started to date that Bucky had to leave for a mission. Neither of the two of you knew when he'd be back, and that got you worried than ever. You were conscious of what he did for a living when you met him, but you couldn't help but feel scared. Next to the front door of your apartment, Bucky left his backpack on the floor, leaning to cup your cheeks on his palms and kiss your lips tortuously slow.

“I'll be okay, (Y/N)”. He murmured keeping his eyes closed.

“You better”.

Your hidden threat made him giggle. The soldier felt goosebumps bristling his skin as your fingertips toured his neck blindly, just to put in place the chain of his necklace. But soon, Bucky stopped your moves to take it off from him and place his dog tags on you.

“I'll come back for them”. He promised, fixing his pale blue orbs on yours, holding your hands to bring them to his lips and place fond kisses on every knuckle of both. “I love you, don' forget it, okay?”

“I won't... How could I, Buck?”

eclipsed;

Bucky was sweating, still not believing he was about to get married to the love of his life. He was on the altar, waiting for you and surrounded by all of your friends in common. Steve had had to help him with a panic attack he had suffered while dressing up, thinking that maybe you could change your opinion at the last moment. He couldn't blame you. But all those doubts vanished at the second you crossed the huge, heavy doors of the church. Your beauty eclipsed him, wearing a white lace wedding dress and seeming like you floated over the floor. Just like an angel.

His heart jumped. His oceanic eyes got covered in tears. A giggle escaped his lips, stretching a hand towards you, still praying it's not a dream. And you noticed the tension and the nervousness running his veins, leaning forward to kiss his cheek with all the love you felt for your future husband.

“Can't wait to say yes”. You whispered into his ear, causing Bucky to lace his arms around you and embrace you tight and tenderly. “I love you, James, from now and forever”.

sunset;

After his most recent nightmare and walking all grumpy from one side of another around your house, you decided to cheer him up only like you can do. With reluctance, you managed to get him out of your apartment and drag him to your car. Bucky was like a child, cross-armed, lips puckered and frowning annoyed. He tried to hide the fact that he had another nightmare to not worry you, but you weren't stupid.

Thinking that glimpsing the beach throughout the large front window would make him feel happier, your boyfriend just reclined himself on the seat, causing you to roll your eyes. That mood changed as soon as Bucky was sitting on the sand, between your legs, tho. His back was resting against your chest and his neck was wrapped by one of your arms, watching fascinated the sunset on the horizon. He wouldn't recognize it, but he felt much better hearing the waves crashing into the shore, while you stroked his scalp tenderly using the tip of your nails.

“You're welcome, grumpy mummy”.

clingy;

You didn't want to drink, but Sam and Sarah wanted to celebrate that the family business was picking up. On another occasion, you wouldn't mind, but Bucky was there. So, when everything started to spin around, you lead your clumsy steps to the edge of the harbor, having a sit there and let the soft breeze help you.

“Stop”. You heard from behind.

“Uh?”

“You're stealing my antisocial personality”. Bucky chuckled, taking a seat by your side. “What's up? Why are you here all alone?”

“Truth or lie?” You asked tilting your head towards him, raising both eyebrows.

“Truth”. He scoffed as if it wasn't obvious.

“I'm too clingy when I'm drunk”.

“Can't see the problem there”.

You chuckled, shaking your head inevitably, causing him to pucker his lips with a funny grimace.

“What?”

“Tru—”.

“Truth”.

“I've been all night wanting to rub your beard”.

Bucky exploded in loud laughter, not believing your words until you put your hands on his jawline. “God... It's so soft”.

His laughs increased, causing you to burn in shame. “No more drinks for you, ma'am...”

But the fact was that he turned to you, so it could be easy to caress his face.

safe;

Bucky was deadly tired on the sofa, warmly cuddled between your arms. A while ago, he stopped to pay attention to the movie, turning his back to the TV to hide his exhausted expression on your chest. You placed the cozy blanket over your bodies, making sure it covered both of you, being aware that tonight you'd sleep there. You felt sorry just at the thought of waking him up, seeing him peacefully breathing and his face more relaxed than the last few days.

Shutting off the TV and stretching an arm above your head, you turned off the small lamp on the auxiliary table close to the sofa, before getting comfier by Bucky's side. Your boyfriend purred delighted, still sleepy, as your fingers got tangled on his hair and started to scratch his scalp slowly, urging you somehow to place a leg over his waist, so he could settle between both a little more closely.

“Feel better?”

“I feel safe”. He replied in a low breath, to exhale the sweet scent concentrated on your neck.

“You're safe, James. You're at home”. Your calmed tone made him sigh, snuggling you strongly.

stay;

You snapped awake because of some knocks on the front door. Tossing the sheets to a side of the bed, you grabbed the gun under your pillow. It was stupidity. If somebody wanted to kill you, that would be the last thing they'd do: knock the door. You walked slowly, step by step, through the main hallway aiming to the door, more than ready to shoot your assailant.

“It's... Bucky”. You heard from the other side.

Sighing in relief and closing your eyes for a split second, you left the weapon on the dinner table in the living room. Not doubting on opening the door, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when you noticed the reddened mark around his left eye and cheek.

“Can I, uh... stay tonight with you?” Bucky inquired, licking his upper lip ashamed, bowing his eyes down to his boots covered in dust.

“C'mon, Sergeant”. You invited him to walk in, using such a sweet tone, while holding his cold hand.

He looked like shit but felt much better when his arms got wrapped around your waist and middle-back, hiding his face into your neck. Kicking the door shut, you embraced him tighter to your body.

notebook;

You were lying on the opposite side to Bucky on the sofa, but keeping your legs tangled. It was a rainy evening with nothing to do and you decided to start to read the book you bought last week. Your boyfriend was silently doing something in a notebook. Maybe writing memories, maybe doodling, you didn't know. But the third time you caught him staring at you, you had to ask.

“What?”

“Uh... nothing”. He whispered focused on the paper in front of his eyes.

“Whaaat?” You kicked his right leg with your bare foot causing him to chuckle.

“Nothing!” Bucky replied using the same playfully tone of voice.

Putting the book on the coffee table, you sat up to lie on top of him, cuddling between his legs and resting your head on his chest. Glancing to the sketch of yourself he was drawing, you raised your heart-eyes to his. It was such a piece of art. The drawing and Bucky. Both.

“I learned in Romania. It kept me sane sometimes”. He confessed, leaning to place a kiss on your forehead. “I want to remember you forever”.

marshmallow;

“Truth or dare?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, leaning on the table just like you did, challenging him. He was trying to read your mind to figure out which were your intentions.

“Dare”. He answered firmly.

“Put twenty marshmallows in your mouth”.

The soldier stared at you in silence, watching him lick his inner cheek and push it with the tip of his tongue. He nodded his head then, grabbing the plastic bag without losing eye contact, to start to place —one by one— the sweets into his mouth. In less than thirty seconds, he looked like a squirrel with his cheek swollen. Bucky squinted at you again, triumphant.

“Hold on, I need to capture this moment”. You laughed, catching your phone to take a picture.

When the flash went off, he spitted a marshmallow like a shotgun. And you couldn't help but laugh.

“C'mon, Bu—”.

You didn't finish the sentence, being hit by another marshmallow slightly wet because of his saliva. Your grimace turned into a funny disgust, grabbing it back to throw it to his face.

“You're like a five years old in a body fos— STOP!” You ended up giggling as he spitted you the third one.

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aki-mochi · 3 years

Text

Levi x Reader: New Life

WARNING: contains language and mentions of prostitution.

This takes place in the Underground.

Being a teenager wasn't easy, especially if they lived in the Underground City where you had to fight to survive. Literally. Levi huffed as he wiped the blood off his cheek from beating another man to tried to talk shit about his late mom. As he turned down into an alleyway, a few men were seen hovering around something as they talked as he got closer, he could hear their conversation and decided to hide behind a barrel to eavesdrop.

"Think we should sell this little girl in the black market to pay for our next meal?"

"Nah, we should teach her a lesson for stealing from us" he partner said as his knuckles were cracked in the process, ready to beat the shit out of the girl they had cornered.

"You pigs didn't need all that food since you're already fat enough!" the girl yelled as she tried to stay brave.

"You little bitch!" the man yelled as he raised his fist as it made contact to her cheek.

The girl fell to the ground due to the force as she held her cheek in pain. Tears welled up in her eyes but refused to let them fall. She shakily got back up to her feet and glared at the men in front of her. "Y-You punch like an old lady! That didn't hurt at all! You're weak!"

"This kid just doesn't know when to stay down. Very well, you'll get what you asked for" the man growled as he went to punch the girl again.

She just stood there, waiting for the impact but it never came as a knife had been thrown into the man's head, killing him on the spot. His body collapsed onto the ground while his partner's throat was slit open by another blade. She watched in horror as blood splattered all over her clothes and face. Backing up to the worn down wall, her legs gave out as she slid to the ground, terrified of the bloodbath she had just witnessed. The person's shadow came closer to her shaking form before it appeared under the streetlight.

"You ok, kid?" Levi asked.

All she could respond with was a nod.

"So, you stole their food?"

"Th-they had a mountain of food on their plates....and I haven't eaten in days...." she whimpered as she held her hollow stomach.

At that, Levi finally got a good look at her form. She looked no older than ten. Her frame was all boney and sick looking, her ribs were probably showing under that oversized tattered shirt, hair all matted, dirty and probably overgrown. He looked just like he did before Kenny had found him after his mother died. He couldn't let her suffer the way he almost did, and based on her appearance, she doesn't have any parents either. With a small sigh, Levi knelt to her level on the ground and offered a hand.

"Come with me. I'll help you get your strength back but you gotta help clean and help me hunt when you do, ok?"

She stared at his hand before shakily reaching her own boney hand out to take it. Once she did, Levi helped her onto his back and started to carry her back to his place.

"You have a name?" he asked.

"(Y-Y/n)....it's just (Y/n)..." she whispered tiredly.

"(Y/n), huh? I'm Levi. Go ahead and sleep, it'll take a bit to get home."

'A home...? Sounds nice....' (Y/n) thought before she drifted to sleep.

Levi glanced back at her sleeping form before sneaking into alleys and back roads to keep out of sight, wondering what his life will be like now that he has a partner to survive with,

~Several Years Later~

Years have passed and Levi and (Y/n) have done well surviving the hell hole they live in. The constant struggles of earning money, stealing food when they couldn't afford any, kicking other thug's asses. It's hard, yes, but they have each other's backs and company when all felt wrong. Levi comes in the house and finds (Y/n) asleep on the loveseat with her legs hanging over the armrest. Lately, he's noticed how tired and sore she'll be during the day and how she would go earn money at night. One day, she went to bend over to pick up a cup that she accidently dropped but had hissed in pain while placing a hand at her lower back. Going to help and ask what was wrong, she waved at him saying she had lifted too many crates for an old man. Levi knew she saw lying since her lips always moved when she does but didn't say anything else.

Walking over to her, he shook her shoulder. "Oi. (Y/n). Wake up, lazy brat."

(E/c) eyes fluttered open as a yawn escaped her mouth. She stretched her stiff limbs before sitting up and rubbing her neck "Do you have to call me lazy everytime I take a nap?" she mumbled.

"Yes, I do. Now get up. I brought food and it's your night to cook."

"Damn it....alright alright. Just give me the bag already." she sighed as she took the bag from his hands and went to the kitchen to see what all he had brought. As She was sorting through the ingredients, Levi stood and watched in the doorway with his arms crossed before hearing her speak up while her back was turned to him.

"So....Kal s-said there's an open spot at-" she was cut off by a fist punching the wall.

"I don't want to hear it, (Y/n)! You promised that you wouldn't sell your body to disgusting men and be a prostitute!"

she turned to him "But Levi-"

"No buts! You're not doing it! I forbid you!" he seethed with a dark glare.

An audible gulp was heard and nothing else was said as she continued to figure out what she could make in silence. Sudden footsteps made their way over to the young woman before stopping right behind her as arms made their way around her waist.

"L-Levi...?"

"I know you want to help but I can't let you do it. You know about my mom and how she died. I don't want it to happen to you too." He said softly with his chin on her shoulder.

(Y/n) sighed but rested her hands on his arms, rubbing her thumb on his skin. "Alright....I won't do it."

"Good. Now, finish dinner while I get cleaned up." With that, his gave her cheek a soft kiss before letting go of her waist and leaving to clean up the non-existent dirt off of him. (Y/n)'s cheeks went ablaze as she held a hand to the cheek he had kissed. She felt happy but she knew that he will find out about her secret job soon and it would tear him apart.

~A few weeks later~

(Y/n) knew that once Levi had cleaned and put away his knife he goes straight to bed. As she watched and made sure he wasn't going to come out anytime soon, she grabbed her bag and quietly sneaked out of their house, making sure to lock it so he wouldn't get on her ass about 'forgetting to lock the door before bed'. Looking around for any stalkers, she quietly made her way down a street, unknowing of a person hiding in the shadows watching her every move.

After turning a few corners here and there, she finally arrived at her destination. She looked up at the sign and cringed in utter disgust, loathe, and regret.

Kal's Prostitute Service.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) reached for the doorknob only for it to be roughly snatched away by a hand. With a gasp, she was forcefully turned around and now staring into the fuming eyes of a very pissed Levi.

"L-Levi, I can explain-"

"You're damn fucking right you'll explain. You're coming home. Right. Now."

At that, he forcefully dragged her by the arm, ignoring her whimpers and protests of how he was hurting her wrist. He was fuming. Raging with anger. He didn't know where to start. She promised him she wouldn't do it. Why the hell would she break her promise?

When he got there, he slammed open the front door and tossed her inside. She landed on the hard floor with a gasp before turning to look up at him. She's seen him angry before, but fucking hell, he was terrifying right now. With a gulp, she sat up a bit with a small tremble of fear.

"L-Levi please let me explain..."

"Explain what?! You went behind my back and did things you promised you wouldn't do! What fucking reason do you have for going back on your word?!"

"I had to! I couldn't stay at home while you did all the work anymore! I wanted to help!"

"You knew how I felt about you doing this shit! Why did you do it?!"

"B-Because..."

"Because what?!"

"Because I did it so we could get our citizenships to live up on the surface instead of this shithole!"

Levi stopped in his tracks and just stared at her. That was her reason? To help get the both of you to the city above them? Tears watered her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she continued.

"I-I had to....I hate seeing you struggle and come home tired and dirty....I couldn't stand it anymore....s-so I took the job of being a-a prostitute.....only until we got the money to get out of this place and have a little extra to get the things we'll need....I couldn't stand being useless anymore, Levi. I-I'm so sorry...!"

She curled up on her spot on the floor and sobbed into her knees with her hands in her hair as Levi watched her, hearing her apologize over and over again through her hiccups. His anger burned out like a fire without air and carefully went over to her shaking form. When he kneeled down to her height, his arms encircled her form, making her tense as her sobs suddenly paused.

"How much...?" he asked softly.

"H-huh...?"

"How much do you have saved up?"

"M-More than enough to get us past the gate a-and to get our citizenship....I've asked around...and someone told me the prices......I saved twice as much than what we needed..." she explained.

He held her closer. "I'm sorry for getting so mad. I was just worried that I would lose you just like mom. I'm still not happy that you went behind my back....but I'm happy that you and I will get to live a better life up there."

(Y/n) blinked before she smiled through her tears and hugged him back. They both stayed like that for a small while before Levi pulled back with his signature glare. "Now, I'm all dirty."

That made (Y/n) laugh.

~Timeskip~

A few weeks had passed and Levi and (Y/n) had finally settled in their new home on the surface after buying some new furniture for it. And, of course, brooms. Levi couldn't forget the brooms. While Levi spent the days cleaning and organizing their new place, (Y/n) ran a small stand in the market. She had a big surprise for Levi. As the sun was starting to set, all the other stands were closing down, meaning (Y/n) could go home and have the day off tomorrow since her boss knew of her surprise. As she quickly packed up her stuff, she ran down the familiar street she takes everyday and soon made it home. With a smile, she went inside and placed her bag in its normal spot that Levi made just for her.

"I'm home~!"

Levi peeked his head from the kitchen and hummed before walking over to her. "You seem happy. What's the occasion?"

"You'll see tomorrow. Boss gave me the day off because of it."

"Oh? Then it must be a big surprise if you get an entire day off for it."

"Mhm! You'll love it~" she smiled.

"I enjoy everything that you give me, (Y/n)" he said as he ruffled her hair, making her whine in protest. Levi only chuckled and went back to the kitchen to finish the food he was preparing.

The next day, everything went smoothly until she had suddenly finished all her cleaning early before noon and had told Levi to get ready for his surprise. With a grunt, he got up from his spot on the couch and slipped on his boots as he waited for the woman to grab whatever she needed. Once she was back, the two headed out and began to walk. When they turned down a specific street, (Y/n) went behind him and covered his eyes, making him mumble a few curse words.

"Calm down, I'll make sure you won't fall. Just trust me." she smiled.

"Alright, fine. Hurry up, though. I don't like not seeing where I'm going." he huffed.

(Y/n) only giggled and carefully led him to a specific building before uncovering his eyes. In front of him was a small tea shop. And it wasn't no ordinary tea shop either. Inside was clearly cleaned to where it shined and several different types of tea was displayed neatly behind the counter with a good few table sets were evenly spread out enough where people can walk. He noticed that no one was here so he turned to her.

"You brought me to a tea shop with no one here?"

"Nooooooo. I brought you to your tea shop! You said you've always wanted to open one so, Ta-da~!" she grinned.

Levi was flabbergasted. The tea shop is his? He looked at her before suddenly pulling her in for a sweet kiss. (Y/n) tensed and turned a dark shade of red before slowly returning the gesture as her arms found themselves around his neck with his around her waist. The kiss lasted for a minute before Levi pulled back.

"I love it. And I love you. Thank you for everything." he smiled.

"You're welcome. And I love you too, Levi."

"I'm glad. Now, let's go see what kind of tea we have."

(Y/n) laughed at this but followed him inside as their new lives have only just begun.

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lunarflux · 3 years

Text

"baby i drink to forget - not to remember"

hwang hyunjin x reader

genre — fluff!au

drinking!!!

suggested background music: x

What started out as one bottles suddenly turned into ten.

Your group of friends sat in a circle on the floor, passing soju bottles around like greetings at the thought of another long year of friendship that came and went. It was already past midnight, but the crickets were silenced by the boom of spontaneous laughter and conversation.

Hyunjin always sat beside you. You never knew why - in all the years of friendship you had, he always chose the seat next to yours. He'd smile and laugh with you, but he never got any closer than the two inches of the space between seats. It's been years, but you never thought to ask.

Tonight was game night. Felix bought some card game and thought it was a good idea to play this over drinks. You had to admit this was more fun than watching everyone play games or going out to a club.

"It's called We're Not Really Strangers -" Felix opened the box.

You groaned, recognizing the name. "Felix, that's like an emotional game; why'd you pick that?" You hiccupped in between shots.

He shrugged, "I dunno. It seemed like a fun thing to do. I can't remember the last time we had a deep talk other than that one wedding we went to when Changbin started crying into his cake after one too many shots."

Had Changbin not finished a bottle of two by himself, he might have been awake for that jab.

Hyunjin puffed out his cheeks, taking the deck from Felix and shuffling it in between taking another shot. "Five years of friendship, and you still want to know more about us, huh?"

Felix smiled in between exchanging glances with your friend beside him. He'd had a crush on her for ages. A small game like this should've said enough.

In one word, describe how you feel right now.

When was the last time you surprised yourself?

Strangers would describe me as _____. Only I know myself as ______.

The game went on until eventually you and Hyunjin were the only ones awake. Felix left with his crush for a midnight ice cream run. Changbin had to be carried home. It was just the two of you. He pulled the next card.

"Are you missing anyone right now? Do you think they're missing you?" Hyunjin read aloud to you. "Well?"

"Well, what?" You sneered.

"Are you missing anyone?" He smirked.

"No."

"Not even one person?"

"No."

"Why not?"

You shrugged. "Everyone I really like is here in this room. What's to miss?"

Hyunjin almost looked satisfied. Skipping your turn, he picked up another card. "Wild card - make an assumption about me. Says we both have to answer."

You turned to face your friend.

As if he wasn't expecting you to get so close, he nearly leaned away. You could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his lips. Or maybe it was yours? After the last bottle, you couldn't really tell anymore.

Hyunjin was always such a curious character. Back when you were in high school, he was always so sweet. He'd offer to walk with you to school or share his lunch if you tried to diet. You almost swore he liked you at some point, but it just never happened. He stayed a dear friend, one you'd see every month or so for drinks.

When Hyunjin was drunk, he'd lean on you. This was the only time he ever did, and part of you wished he wouldn't drink when you were together because in his drunken splendor, he'd talk - and you never forgot what he'd say.

"Be my girlfriend."

And every time you'd respond -

"Ask me when you're sober."

He never did. He never really really remembered. The next days were always full off groans and complaints of hangovers, yours included. Even though he'd ask you what happened, you knew those were just drunk words. If he didn't remember in the morning, it couldn't have been real.

It would be a complete lie to assume you never developed anything deeper than friendship-like love for Hyunjin. It was hard not to. But every time you tried to get close, it was like he wanted to pull away. After all these years, it didn't make sense anymore.

Drunk words are - after all - drunk.

"You go first." You closed your eyes, finally feeling one or two drops of soju hitting your spine. It had been too long since you drank this much. It was a miracle you weren't passed out like the others.

Hyunjin laughed once then nothing. He just stared, like he was looking for the words.

"I don't know what to say."

"Oh, come on - " You pushed his shoulder, your head rolling forward. "There has to be something you think you know about me. Anything. Something."

You were close to laying back down on the floor when you suddenly felt Hyunjin's hand on your back, keeping you upright.

You grimaced. "This really is the only time, huh."

He looked at you with concern. "I'm sorry?"

You leaned in closer to him, poking his cheek with your finger. "You always hug the guys. You never hug me! You don't lean on me unless you're drunk - you never get close to me." You giggled, turning your five year long question into sarcastic banter. "How come you never want to touch me, huh?"

"It's not like that." He smiled, poking your pouted lip. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what." You pouted harder. "You never get close to me when you're sober, you never lay a hand on me. You only ask me to be your girlfriend when you're drunk. Why can't you be like that all the time?"

Hyunjin's smile slowly dropped. He looked at you seriously.

"Why, you want to be my girlfriend?"

You stifled a laugh. This was no time to be serious. For once, it looked like you were more drunk than him, and this wasn't the time to get caught up in feelings you always tried to forget. "Shut up. You don't mean it."

"You think I don't want you to my girlfriend?"

You turned your head only for your cheek to meet Hyunin's finger. He kept his finger there, his smile growing again. "You're cute, you know that?"

Pushing his hand away, you released a heavy sigh. "Hwang Hyunjin, I told you before, so I'll say it again. Say these things to me when you're sober. I'm too drunk to deal with you teasing me."

"I'm not drunk." He shrugged. " You guys drank the most, and I have work in the morning. Why would I drink?"

You blinked once. Twice.

"You're being serious. You're not drunk?" Suddenly, you felt very sober.

Hyunjin's smile stretched across his entire face, like he was watching a puppy stumble over its own legs. "I never drink enough to get that drunk. I sober up very quickly - I thought you knew."

"How the hell would I know that?" You sneered. "We always drink together!"

"Yeah, all of us. It's not like you're counting my shots or checking when I stop drinking."

"Then why didn't you ever ask me when you were sober?"

"If you really thought I only wanted you to be my girlfriend because I was drunk, then I thought you really didn't want to." Hyunjin patted your head. "You're always so touchy with the guys. I didn't want to be like everyone else. If you were my girlfriend, I'd get jealous."

"I still can't tell if you're lying - " You poured yourself another shot before lifting the shot glass to your lips, but instead of feeling another stinging kiss of liquid, you just felt the back of Hyunjin's hand, shielding the soju from reaching the edge.

He grabbed the shot and downed it in one easy swig. Placing the glass back down, he sighed. "Fine -"

Hyunjin pulled your face close to his, the taste of soju still glimmering on his lips. A forceful yet deep kiss, he sighed into you before dropping one hand to the back of your neck, the other to your waist. His lips moved slowly but with a hunger. Your head was spinning, but whether it was because of the alcohol or just him you couldn't tell. Squeezing the back of your neck ever so slightly, Hyunjin lowered you down to the floor, suddenly more sober than ever.

He looked at you - but it was like you were looking at him for the first time ever in your life. The apartment suddenly seemed so quiet as his gaze followed your heaving chest, breathless from his kiss.

"Yes, I want you to be my girlfriend." He finally spoke. "But I don't want you to answer until you're sober."

Hyunjin stood up and gathered his things. After what seemed like an hour, you sat up and realized he was gone.

Your head was still spinning - that couldn't have been real.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin in a week.

Not for lack of trying, but whenever you unlocked your phone only to see his name at the top of your notifications, you couldn't help but panic. Yes, you woke up with a hangover the next day, but the memory of that kiss was burned into your brain, and it was the only thing you could think about.

Hyunjin lived at an apartment complex down the street.

You couldn't help but wonder if he'd magically appear in front of you, and then your words would just be caught in your chest.

Look down, look down. Just keep walking.

Ready to enter your apartment, your curiosity peaked. Looking across the way, you spotted him. Standing in front of his apartment.

With a girl?

Blinding fury took over as you made your way over to him. The girl had already walked away, but something in you just said -

"You're such an asshole!" You gave him one hard shove, nearly pushing him over.

Hyunjin laughed once. "Did I miss something?"

"You - and the - she -"

"- is my neighbor. She got my mail by accident." He opened his back to reveal a small package and two envelopes.

You stumbled back, immediately regretting your entire existence.

Hyunjin took two steps toward you as you took two back. "You haven't been answering my texts."

"W-Well, I -" You couldn't find your words let alone remember how to speak. "I just - "

"So are you ready to give me your answer?"

"What answer?"

He leaned in again, cupping your cheek with his hand. Barely grazing your lips with his, Hyunjin teased. You could feel his breath playing over your skin. Gently resting his lips on your forehead, he pulled away with a content grin.

"I won't kiss you again unless it's as your boyfriend."

It took everything in you not to punch him straight in the stomach, so you settled for a hit to the arm. "Why -" and again "- didn't -" and again "- you just -" and once more "- ASK ME."

Hyunjin couldn't hold back in his laughter. "Sue me for getting nervous in front of the girl I like!" He grabbed hold of your hand before lacing his fingers between yours. "Is that a yes?"

"I hate you." You fought back a laugh.

He nodded. Pulling you into his chest, Hyunjin kissed the top of your head.

"I guess that means yes."

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sebstanseabass · 3 years

Text

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 16

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The sun glared through the thin sheet of the tent, making your listless self stir beneath the blankets draped over your naked body. Cautious not to wake Bucky, who had his arms wrapped around you, you carefully buried your face deeper in his neck but he wasn't that much of a deep sleeper as you thought he would be.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." He said, pulling you closer.

"G'morning." You replied, smiling against his skin. "Have you been awake this whole time?"

"Yes. I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful sleeping."

"Someone tired me out last night."

Bucky chuckled, sending a low vibration on top of your head. "Hmm, how was he?"

"He's pretty good in bed." You chuckled. "But pretty creepy when he refers to himself in the third person."

You stayed right there for another hour — in each other's embrace, in heat, in thin sheets, in profound silence, still taking pleasure in the afterglow of what had transpired last night: the intimacy in each other's skin, of each other's mouths, of each other's everything. A kind of intimacy you never dared share with anyone, not even with your serious ex-boyfriend.

Before the both of you got up and headed down the fire escape and then to the apartment, you had looked at him one last time and asked yourself the same question you had asked Bucky the first time you were here on the rooftop:

"Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" You asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

Was this the kind of afterglow you sought after?

You shook your head, suddenly feeling ridiculous. Perhaps it was the sex; just that. The most amazing, mindblowing sex I ever had in my life, you thought. The more you described it that way while descending down the stairs and entering the apartment through the window (while wearing Bucky's shirt which looked huge on you, by the way), the more you believed it was just because of that. Besides, it was something that had given you sweet, sweet pleasure, something that made me feel like you were high on drugs, something that made you feel alive, something that made you feel things you didn't even know you could — the after of it all, of course, was worth so much more.

You both went straight to the bathroom to wash your faces and brush your teeth as soon as you got in. Of course, you took way more time than he did. He soon went to the kitchen to prep breakfast. You approached him afterwards, his bare back exposed to you while cracking some eggs into a bowl.

Without any hesitation at all, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. You caught a whiff of his scent, even though he reeked of sex, the vanilla-lavender hint never faded.

"Whatcha cookin', good-lookin'?" You asked, taking a peek on the table.

"I was thinking of making you Japanese omelettes today." He stopped whipping for a second to face you. He placed a finger on your chin, tilting it upwards, and proceeded to kiss me.

"Have I told you you have the softest lips?" He whispered after.

"Yes, you did." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "And you kept reminding me last night."

"Good. You should be reminded of all the beautiful things you possess." He rested his hands on your hips. You wanted to shy away from the mention of the word beautiful but you didn't.

You have always received compliments, yes, but you never learned how to respond to them unless they tell you how to: "Oh for god's sake, just say thank you." Most people compliment you just because they have to, because social convention dictates them to (especially when you're at a party). Some, perhaps only five percent, genuinely compliment you.

But the spontaneity of last night — all the compliments Bucky kept giving you, all the "beautiful" being said over and over and over, were playing in your head like a broken record. Even after he saw all the folds, the rolls, stretch marks, scars, and acne marks.

It wasn't just that. He admired every single one of your photos down at the bar, photos you worked hard for, photos people kept neglecting. He talked about them like how you imagined someone actually talking about them. He talked to you about the beauty of art like how you wanted to talk to someone about it (Weirdly so, you picked friends you had nothing in common with: Nat just wanted to gossip, Steve preferred to be mysterious, Peter was all about business, Wanda was the one person you could talk to about these but you chose not to anymore, and Nick... was just Nick). It was like reading each other's minds.

You treated each as a compliment.

The five percent you were talking about? Bucky was it.

He pulled you out of your thoughts by sliding his hands to your ass, squeezing the cheeks for a bit, then placing them on the back of your thighs. You smiled then jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. He placed you on top of the counter next to all the ingredients he had prepared.

He grabbed your face and continued to make-out, leaving the eggs on the bowl raw and unwhisked.

"You should," you said in between kisses, "go back to cooking. I'm starving."

"Y'know, you could just eat me."

"Sorry, I want cooked eggs."

He pulled away from, yet his hands stayed on your waist. With a cute pout on his face, he said: "Mean."

You broke into laughter after that and you watched him cook this Japanese omelette he kept talking about.

"I would make you the most amazing Japanese omelette — and the most complicated one, by the way. It took me months to perfect that — but I'm too lazy to prepare the rice." He chuckled, grabbing an apron. "So, I'm just going to make you the normal one. It's called Tamagoyaki."

"Hmm, interesting." You commented. "I just do mine sunny-side up. Crack an egg on a pan. That's it. It's an underrated hack, really."

He laughed. "It's a good thing I'm here then." He proceeded to heat the pan, and throw some butter on it once the heat was good enough.

"You told me you only know how to cook breakfast, right? Why is that?"

"The same reason why you cook your eggs sunny-side up."

"It's easy?"

"Not just easy." He replied. "It's the easiest of all meals! Toast, eggs, bagels, bacon — see, they're pretty easy."

You frowned, tilting your head. "You know, most times, you say the most profound things but you do say the weirdest, silliest things sometimes."

It was like two people were fighting against each other inside him: the child, and the man.

He laughed at your comment and said nothing further as he concentrated on cooking. You watched him move around the kitchen as the minutes passed by. And while you talked about the small things in life, you couldn't help but wonder how this Bucky, standing right in front of you, kissing you, holding you, was much more different — way more different than the Bucky you knew in Peter's stories.

The thing you liked about it though, was that both versions excited you. You longed for spontaneous adventures, ones that you’d keep forever, ones that would remind you of the days of your youth, ones you too stuck up to do, and you longed for conversations like this, and the ones you and Bucky have had before, conversations that made you see more of life's beauty and appreciate it.

That same afternoon, you spent it lying down on a couch in each other's arms, watching a movie he guilted you into watching: Roman Holiday. You made side commentaries while you watched, how lame the lines were, how cheesy they all sounded, but at the same time, amazed at how things have changed since then.

"Ugh, I love me a vespa." You said, watching the vespa speed away on the streets. "I would just love to ride around New York city in a vespa and just pull off some Roman Holiday in this bitch."

"I have to admit, that does look fun."

And somewhere halfway through the film, when Bucky was making small circles with his finger on your waist (igniting fire within you, and at the same time, making you weak on your knees), you ended up making out, grabbing and touching each other beneath your clothes, and taking them all off, sending them flying all over the living room floor, and repeating what you did last night — except it was in broad daylight and Bucky dominated over you, over and over and over, flesh on flesh. You kept screaming each other's names. He kept fucking you into oblivion, taming the mad woman in you.

You laid there on your back, pulling down his neck with your right hand, making your foreheads touch, locking your eyes together, telling him to go "faster, deeper", digging deep and scratching into his back with your nails, making him hiss out your name, and at the same time, crying out his name repeatedly like a chant, making you forget your own.

You felt the droplets of his sweat on your skin, mixed with your own. You watched him ravish you, watched the pleasure consume him wholly, and watched his eyes roll back as he came inside.

"I really can't get enough of you, babydoll." He growled, and kissed you one last time before you showered and headed down to work.

"You look different." Nat observed, sitting on one of the high stools across you. "Did you do something with your face?"

"No, I didn't." You grimaced, shaking your head.

"Then, why are you glowing?"

"Quit staring."

She chose not to listen to you and kept on following you with her eyes as you moved around the counter. "Oh my god, I know what it is — "

"Goddamn it, Nat — "

" — you had sex!"

She cackled, gesturing you towards the booth with a sharp tone: "Booth. Now."

You followed suit. It was crystal clear in that moment that you had no other choice, that she held the upper hand in this friendship. You were starting to think that perhaps this friendship you were pursuing with Nat was a mistake as she kept on berating you about the information she just acquired.

"There's no way in hell I'm telling you all about it." You huffed, sitting across from her.

"I'll tell you one thing, though," she said, "I'm a fucking prophet."

"Don't be such a smug bitch." You rolled your eyes. "No one likes a smug bitch."

"What did I tell you about this Bucky thing, huh?" She smirked, ignoring you. Again. "Come on, spill the beans! I wanna hear everything!"

You shook your head unamused. "Nope. No way."

She groaned. "Please? Nothing exciting is ever happening in this bar but now I have this! You!"

"How about you and Steve humping each other like bunnies?" You bit your inner cheeks to prevent your lips from smiling. "That's gotta be exciting."

"Let's not talk about me and Steve."

"So, it's okay if we talk about my sex life but not yours?"

"Exactly."

You frowned. "You're a weird friend."

"No." She leaned in. "I'm a miracle-worker that happens to be your new best friend, by the way — "

"Parker's my best friend — "

" — and you should at least thank me. I am more than welcome, by the way."

"Nat, if you don't stop I swear to God I'm gonna out you and Steve to the whole ass bar." You groaned, knocking your forehead against the table. Coincidentally, you could actually out them of the closet knowing they were actually doing it in one of the closets here in the bar (yes, you found a condom wrapper lying around one time. Knowing what had transpired in that small space, believe you me, you sprinted the fuck out of there).

"Ugh fine, fine." She said, making you stop banging your head and forcing you to look at her. "Just tell me this... Was it good?"

You rolled your eyes. "Fine, yes, it was good."

"Just good?"

You sighed in defeat, leaning back on the cushioned backrest of the booth. "It was the best I ever had." Nat bit her lip, hiding a squeal. "There. Ya happy?"

"Now, I'm curious! Please, y/n, you have to tell me. I gots to know! Okay, tell me, how big was he?"

"What?! No, I'm not gonna tell you that."

"Come on, I'll trade you Steve's."

"Ew, Nat! Gross!" You cringed. "I don't wanna know that!"

Then, she proceeded to move her hands in the opposite direction slowly, "tell me when to stop." You shook your head and just watched her in plain amusement as she continued to do it. Her jaw dropped. "Oh my god, this big? Seriously?"

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Come on, you told me about the time you kissed!"

"That's different." You scoffed. "This one's... intimate."

"Ooohhh, intimate. Well, I've never heard anyone describe sex that way."

"It was just different, okay? Good different." You replied. "And that's all I'm telling you."

She heaved a sigh, finally accepting the fact that you won't go anywhere past what you just told her. "Okay, at least you gave me something. Do you mind if I ask you something real, though? I swear this is the last time. It's not about sex, I promise."

Convinced, you nodded. "Go ahead."

"So, are you guys dating now? Or is it just, ya know, fooling around?"

You sat there, undoubtedly floored by the question. You had never even given it a thought. It never crossed your mind until Nat just made you realize the consequences of yesterday, last night and this afternoon, the inevitable. Were you dating? Will you ever talk about it? Is he even considering it? Or will you just continue to have sex without ever talking about dating?

"I, uh, I don't know. We didn't talk about it."

"Well, clearly there's gotta be something, right? That it's not just fooling around. I mean you said it was intimate, that it was good different — whatever that means." said Nat. "There's gotta be something deep?"

You looked at Natasha with astonishment, baffled by the things coming out of her mouth. Apparently,you were still on cloud nine to think about any kind of repercussion, to think about what could happen next to afterglow.

"I guess?"

"Do you like him?"

"Clearly, I do."

Unlike Nat, you were stunned by your answer. You answered that question faster than the speed of light.

She smirked at you in response. "You are so gonna fall in love."

"Shut your hole, Nat."

The door flew open suddenly, revealing Bucky and Sam, which got you up your feet. Instinctively and ignoring Nat, you approached him halfway and greeted him with a kiss which he gladly reciprocated, all the things you and Nat just talked about disappearing into this sweet, sweet kiss.

"Hey you." You breathed after pulling away from his lips.

"Hey, babydoll."

"Oh hey, Sam."

"Hey, babydoll." Sam mocked, a smirk playing on his lips. "That's a cute name. What is that? French?"

Bucky smacked his friend on the stomach, making Sam groan and glare at him. "So, it's not French?"

"Sam." Bucky warned which Sam only found funny.

Bucky kept his hand on your waist as you approached the booth, with Sam behind us. Nat, who was still sitting on the booth, cocked her head on the side and eyed Bucky up and down. "Bucky, Sam... This is Nat from the night before." You introduced them to each other before you made them sit in the booth.

"Do you boys want anything to drink?" Nat asked.

"We'll have scotch." Bucky replied, giving Nat a friendly smile. "On the rocks."

"Actually, I don't know how to make drinks, I just asked to be nice."

You rolled your eyes at Nat, laughing lightly. "Don't worry, I got them." You approached the counter and prepared the drinks while Nat followed your trail.

"Babydoll?" She asked. "Steve doesn't even have a nickname for me."

"Okay, I have to ask this since you already did it to me anyway." You said, pouring scotch on the glasses. "Are you and Steve dating? Or is it just, like you said, fooling around?"

"We're friends... with benefits."

"So, just fooling around then?" You asked.

"Yeah, you can put it that way."

"Aren't you worried he might want something more than that? Like a relationship? He does seem like a man who wants to settle, y'know."

"Aren't you worried your new boy toy might want something like that too?"

You fell silent just as you were about to finish the drinks. You weren't worried about that, no. You were worried about you, wanting something more, something you haven't had in a long time, something Bucky hasn't had.

"The chances of me and Steve getting even serious are very slim." She whispered. "But you and Bucky? Now, that's a big fat chance. It doesn't even matter how long you guys have known each other. If there's chemistry, then you can't do anything about it, and the way you described your whole thing with him? Babydoll," she smirked, proud of herself, "if that's not chemistry then I don't know what is."

"As far as I can remember, you're the one who told me to just 'go where the river takes you' and now you're confusing me with these things!" You hissed, looking over at the booth and making sure Bucky won't hear your little banter.

She rolled her eyes at you. "Okay, okay, okay... Allow me to paint you a picture, y/n."

"Paint me a picture — ?"

"Do you know where the river takes you? A waterfall." Nat cut youoff. "Now, right now, you're still on a boat, just gliding through the river, going where the flow takes you. Then some time now, you're gonna hit a fast stream until boom, waterfalls, and when you reach the top of the falls, inevitably, you're gonna fall... fall in love, that is, with the hunky rich man over there. See? Painting a picture. I can be smart too."

You kept Nat's words in the back of your mind until you gave Bucky and Sam their drinks, saving them for later. Nat had to go out for a while to smoke outside, leaving you, Sam and Bucky in the booth, discussing the project you had with Sam's line, updating you with all the dates and details. Seeing as you'll soon be leaving the bar by the end of the week, you offered to start first thing next week.

"But I could actually give you a little pitch presentation just before we start shooting," you added, "idea decks we can work with, like styles, and some mood boards that fit your whole apparel aesthetic. But first, I need to know your brand bible, like your target audience, the tone of your business — stuff like that — just so I can prepare for the presentation."

"Wow, you know a lot about the business industry." Sam replied, amused.

"I used to major in business and finance." You sighed. "It does come in handy with my photography."

Under the table, Bucky reached for your hand, interlacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand three times which elicited a smile.

"Oh, I can give you a tour!" Sam enthusiastically said. "We can go to the office and to some of the stores; maybe the one in Fifth Street. We've actually received the shipment for the new designs. We could discuss everything then. How does tomorrow sound? Bucky can come with ya."

"Tomorrow works, yes! Tomorrow's perfect." You agreed.

You broke out in a smile, leaning on Bucky's side who was more than glad to see you discussing with Sam about the project, squeezing you hand once more, three times.

"Then, it's settled!" Sam boomed. "Now, where's the toilet? I think I got a little too excited."

You threw you head back, laughing. "Right down the hall over there." You pointed.

As soon as Sam was gone, Bucky turned towards you and held your face with his hands, planting a soft kiss on your lips. "You sound so hot talking like that."

You chuckled, sliding closer towards him, your thighs brushing past each other. "You and your weird mind, Bucky I swear to God."

With his lips pressed on yours, you didn't even notice the door open, didn't even notice Steve walk in. You pulled away, hearing Steve clearing his throat. With your hands still on Bucky, you turned towards Steve, who was clearly entertained, and sent him a huge smile.

"H-hey, Rogers." You chuckled nervously. "You remember Bucky."

"Mr. Barnes." Steve nodded at Bucky.

"Mr. Rogers."

You frowned at their formal exchange. "Bucky's actually here with his friend, Sam Wilson. I'm starting a project with him for his business that'll start next week. We were just, uh, discussing the details."

"In his mouth?" Steve smirked.

"Steve." You hissed. "Not cool, man."

"So, where's this Sam Wilson?" Steve asked, looking to his right.

"On your left."

Steve turned around on his left at Sam's voice. Both men stared at each other for a while before introducing each other and shaking each other's hands. Weirded out, you turned to Bucky and asked if they knew each other, if the three of them knew each other (as you now remembered that time when Bucky and Steve met here in the bar).

Bucky shook his head no. "Maybe he's just one of those familiar faces you see on the street." He whispered, but as Steve went straight to his office, and as Sam got back in the booth, a weird tension surfaced that was cut off by Nat entering the bar, together with some customers who were more than happy to be the first ones here.

"That's my cue." You sighed, standing up and letting go of Bucky's hands before going to the counter and greeting the customers.

You felt your phone vibrate against your back pocket after a few seconds. You opened it, and on the screen was a message from Peter:

Sorry couldn't get to you sooner. Lost my charger on the way to the cabin! Schmidt didn't want me to borrow his until I did everything he told me to. Everything's great! I'll send you pictures when I can.

Hope Bucky's taking good care of you. Miss you, y/n. I'll see you in a few days!

Your fingers hovered on the screen as you glanced at Bucky who caught your eyes. He winked at you while taking a sip from his drink and licked his lip afterwards, eyeing you up and down.

Tell Schimdt I'll beat his ass when he comes back. See you in a few days, Parker!

A series of what happened between you and Bucky flashed in your mind, making you bite your lip.

And don't worry, Bucky's taking good care of me.

... such good care.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fan fiction #bucky fafiction #bucky barnes au #bucky au #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes story #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes

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kmikaelsonimagines · 3 years

Text

Illicit Affairs: A Kol Mikaelson Imagine

Request from Anon: Illicit affairs?? (And could It potentially have a happy ending 💗)

So I’ve put off using this gif for 4 years because it’s not Kol as such, but we’re on imagine 125 (that’s 125 different gifs) and this song came up, and I just couldn’t resist anymore because it’s so adorable. Also, I’m potentially running out of gifs which is annoying because I liked having different ones, so if you start seeing ones you’ve already seen in future imagines, I’m sorry!

Anyway, this is my favourite song off this album. Get ready for some cuteness! Hope this is okay for you lovely, and enjoy x

Want to hear the song? Find a link to it just below:

Illicit Affairs

Make sure nobody sees you leave Hood over your head, keep your eyes down

You often thought that Kol Mikaelson was at his most beautiful when he was asleep.

There were the lines of his face, the slope of his cheekbones, so young yet so old, a boyish charm trying to hide the wisdom that resided there. There was his hair, chocolate tufts of feathers splayed on the pillow, tickling your fingers as you threaded your hand through it.

He moved, still asleep, but leaning into your touch.

No-one knew he was here, no-one knew that when he had left his wife that morning he would be climbing into your bed. No-one knew that he was here most days, that you would spend your time staring at the sculpting of his chest, running your hands over his arms as he placed them on either side of your head.

Soon would come the time for him to leave, for those tufts of hair to be covered with the same black hoodie, brown eyes on the pavement instead of on you, a sly kiss of farewell that only left you wanting more.

You wanted him to stay forever, but knew that as long as he was married, you would remain the thing you hated the most.

You would be the other woman.

“I don’t want to be the other woman anymore,” you whispered to his sleeping form. “I want to be the only one.”

Tell your friends you're out for a run You’ll be flushed when you return

“I don’t want to be the other woman anymore. I want to be the only one.”

Kol was listening to things that he knew you didn’t want him to hear. So, he didn’t reply when you whispered to him, pretending that he hadn’t woken up at the sensation of your hands in his hair.

It sounded so tempting, the idea of just having you.

No more pretending, no more lying. No more telling Davina that he had run to get home, no more hoping that she wouldn’t question his movements. Why didn’t you just use your speed? Since when do vampires sweat from running? Those questions hadn’t crossed her lips, but it was only a matter of time before they did.

He always came home flushed, face red as he reminisced on his time with you. Out of what you did together, or out of his love for you, he wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. Not when he hated leaving you.

It should have been easy, to leave Davina. But she was his wife and he had made a vow. A vow that haunted him, that didn’t stop him sneering at the gold band on his finger every time you went to kiss him.

It wasn’t love stopping him. It was guilt.

If it wasn’t for that, he would have made you the only one.

Take the road less traveled by Tell yourself you can always stop

You watched as Kol’s eyes flitted open, a tired smile stretching on his face. No-one would have known there was a killer behind that smile, one that was suppressed when he was with you. Teeth didn’t sink into your neck when his lips were on your skin, fingers didn’t tear into you when they danced across your body.

At the start, you had told yourself that falling for him was dangerous, his reputation lingering in your mind. But then his fingers had mapped out that path on your skin, the one that his lips would follow, the road that only he knew, and all reason had disintegrated.

Now it was just a need, an ache, a desire that blossomed into love as he spoke, voice hoarse as he recovered from the effects of sleep. “Hey.” He reached up to where your hand was threaded through your hair, bringing it to his lips and kissing the inside of your wrist.

“Hey,” you uttered back. Your heart hurt slightly as he looked at you with love in his eyes, knowing that you couldn’t have this every morning, couldn’t wake up to him for the rest of your life. You could always stop the pain, but as Kol’s lips moved from your wrist to your neck, his body on top of yours, you found that you didn’t want to.

What started in beautiful rooms Ends with meetings in parking lots

Kol kissed you to forget. He kissed you to forget that he would have to go back eventually, that it would hurt like Hell when he did. He kissed you to forget that he wouldn’t be able to kiss you like this every day for the rest of eternity.

He kissed you to forget that he loved you.

Instead he focused on the feel of your lips against his, the way you kissed him lazily, the way you let him have control. He focused on your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers fiddling with the hair on the back of his neck. He focused on how your body felt beneath his, legs tangled together.

He focused on how he never wanted this to end.

It had started as a no-strings-attached situation, quick meetings in your room. But now, it was smiles as you saw each other in public, speaking in alleyways before making sure no-one else was around.

It was something so much more than either of you had planned it to be, and he wanted it more than anything. But he couldn’t have it, knowing that it would destroy the woman he had pledged his life to, guilt clouding his judgement.

So he kissed you to forget it all.

And that's the thing about illicit affairs And clandestine meetings and longing stares

When Kol’s lips found your neck, you moved away, forcing him to look at you. He looked confused, hurt even, and you placed a chaste kiss on his lips to wipe the pain away. You couldn’t have him believing the worst, not when you had finally mustered up the courage to say what you wanted, thinking it was now or never.

Seconds passed, but it felt like an age before those five words left your mouth.

You could ruin everything, lose him forever. That was the thing about affairs; you were never quite sure where you stood. Kol stared at you, longingly, and you stared back, aching for his touch, for his kiss, for his demonstration of love.

But you held out, knowing that if you let him kiss you again, all rational thought would disappear like it so often had before. You would just be left waiting again, waiting for a time when he could meet you, keeping your love for him a secret when you wanted nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops.

You reached up and cupped his cheek, heart aching when he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch once again. And then, those five words slipped from your mouth.

“I love you.” You swallowed. “Leave her.”

It's born from just one single glance But it dies and it dies and it dies A million little times

“I love you. Leave her.”

Kol had never heard such control in your voice, such conviction. It took him by surprise, but only for a moment as your words sunk in. He looked at you, at the desperation that lay in your eyes, and he knew.

He knew that you really loved him, probably on par with his own feelings for you.

He was conscious of your hand still on his cheek, of the way your eyes never left his. This was how it had started, a single glance that had his heart beating like it had never beat before, that continued to make it do so, fluttering against his ribcage.

Davina didn’t make him feel like that anymore.

There it was. That guilt again, overshadowing any emotions that he felt towards you. Kol was used to letting it envelope him, used to letting it control his movements. If he had done so this time round, he would be climbing off you, leaving and never coming back. He would have let what you and he had die, let it crumble.

But he was tired of giving in, and as he looked at you, at those eyes that he had fallen for, he made a decision.

“I love you too.” He kissed you. “I’ll leave her. I only want you.”

His heart fluttered a million times as you smiled. This was the right thing to do, he knew it.

It had to be, if he was starting his new life with you.

Masterlist

Folklore Masterlist

#the vampire diaries #tvd #tvd imagine #tvd imagines #the originals #to #the originals imagines #the originals imagine #Kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson imagines #kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson x reader #nate buzolic #nate buzz #Nathaniel Buzolic

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Note

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

I've heard that on TV shows all the time, but hearing it with my own ears is new. I'm scared.

"Hello, hi, uhm." What do I say? How do I do this? "I'm on interstate four, right by the exit to route 408 and I just watched a car go over the side." It feels not real, feels like I'm watching an action movie or one of those dashcam tiktoks that find their way onto my for you page from time to time.

"What interstate four, northbound or south?"

I look to the sign, forgetting that I've driven on this road a million times, still reeling. "North- northbound on four."

"I've dispatched emergency services to you. Can you see the driver?"

I can't even see the car, just the chunks taken out of the concrete barrier where the car hopped it, can see the brake lights still though. "Not where I am but I'm- I pulled off to the shoulder, I can get out and go see if they're okay."

"You don't have to do that, ma'am." A million things are running through my mind, but one sticks out.

"I'm, uh, I'm first aid trained, and I took an EMT class for extra credit in college, I might be able to help?" I turn my keys in the ignition, make sure to keep my hazards on and pocket them, dig through my glove box for the bare bones first aid kit I got when I got the car last year.

"Emergency services are 5 minutes out. I can walk you through helping and give them a better picture if you go over there, but you don't have to. Help is on the way."

"I'm going to see if I can help." Opening the driver's side door seems much too scary, with cars whizzing past going well over the 65 miles per hour speed limit. It's 3 in the morning, and there are no speed traps on this stretch of the interstate. People speed, and they go way over. Instead, I opt to climb over to the passenger seat, careful not to accidentally turn off my hazards, and start over to the crumbled concrete and brake lights. I can hear the driver before I see him, yelling for help. I call out to him.

"Thank god, can you call 911?" He yells, and then I see him. He's laid up between the dash and a cracked but not shattered windshield, curled to see me through the passenger side window, which is gone.

"I'm on the phone with them now, they're, how many minutes is it, 911 lady?"

"Gigi, two minutes out. Can you see the driver? Does he have any visible injuries?"

"Two minutes out, yeah, he's got cuts on his face and his arms, and-" It registers then, that I can see the bones of his arm jutting out of his elbow, and his leg is bent at an impossible angle, and his nose is much too bloody to still be intact. "I think a couple broken bones, too." It's then that I hear the sirens, loud honking, and look to see flashing lights moving down the road. "They're almost here, dude, just keep hanging out."

There's really not all that much distance between where he went over and the ground, so it's easy to clear the wall and land on the ground. Up closer, I can see the puddle of blood he's laying in, bubbling steady out of a large cut in his leg. A flash of my EMT class comes through, it's an artery, somewhere in his leg, and you need to tourniquet it, like ASAP. The truck is still honking, backed up in the saturday night orlando traffic and people pulling to the side to let them through and while I can see and hear it, there's a good half mile wall of bumper to bumper pulling off to give space. No clear path.

"Hey, are you, how do you feel?"

"I feel like shit for crashing my buddy's car, but that's about it right now. Why?" Asking that after you hopped an embankment crashing a car seems kinda weird, but ok?

"I think I need to, like, help you with your leg? Can I?" He nods. I close the distance between me and his car door and manage to open it enough so I can get in the car. It's awkward and there's no real good footing, but I manage to wedge myself in enough to get in a stable spot. "Let's see if I can remember how to do this. I need-"

Ever the helpful phone call, Gigi reminds me. "You need to tie something just above where he's bleeding, tight as you can. A cut seatbelt, a t shirt, something like that." There is nothing like that in my immediate vicinity except for my own shirt, which, I can give up my shirt for this guy, there's another one shoved somewhere in my trunk. It gets stripped off quickly and Gigi helps with directions all the way through. My hands shake vigorously, but I manage to get it to the point where I can't visibly see volumes of blood pour out of him, so I count it as a win.

I look at the truck, still pretty stuck where it is, but the ambulance is getting through, still huge but better able to work through the gaps between the large quantity of cars.

"Am I going to die? Is that why you keep looking to see where they are? Cause I'm going to die?"

"No." I speak firmly despite the panic coursing through my veins, the fear that I might be lying right to his face. "No. The paramedics are almost here and they're gonna help you and get you to the hospital and all that. You're not gonna die." I read somewhere once that in that situation you have to reassure people. They don't fight to live if they think they might die.

The stretch of time that passes before there's an EMT in front of me feels like a lifetime, even if it's only a couple of minutes. And the first thing I notice is that his gaze travels down my body, catching at my chest and oh, yeah, I gave my shirt to the bleeding guy and should probably get out of the paramedic's way. I make to go back and get the extra shirt I know I have in my backseat but I get stopped on my way by another EMT who wants to check and make sure I'm okay.

"I wasn't in the car, I called it in." I wave my phone, which still has 911 on the line, but the paramedic insists, points to a cut on my arm I hadn't realized I'd gotten. I get led to sit on the tailgate of an ambulance, watching firefighters run past from the truck that finally got through carrying loads of stuff, heavy equipment with ease. Nimble fingers clean out the cut before deciding it's not deep enough for stitches, just using steri-strips and wrapping it in gauze with gentle hands and a reserved smile.

"Jade, we need to get going with him!" The first EMT I saw calls while running with a gurney, the guy from the accident strapped against a yellow board with my work shirt still tied around his leg. The paramedic helping me jumps into action, ushers me into the ambulance and helps the guy get the gurney in.

"Sit down, buckle up." He says, looking at me. Jade turns and gives me a bit of a sympathetic look.

"He's always like this. You have to get that checked in the ER still." Oh. Okay. I sit down, strap into the seat, and the ambulance starts moving before the doors are fully closed. They get the car guy all hooked up to all kinds of machines and fuss over him, till the monitor beeping with what I assume is his heart rate steadies, and then the EMT guy visibly relaxes, eyes landing on me again. I cross my arms over my chest, much more self conscious of my state of dress with his gaze on me. He's, unfairly attractive, wavy blonde hair and toned skin, wrapped in an unbelievably tight uniform.

"D'you- here." And then he starts unbuttoning his uniform shirt, and I'm sure my eyes go wide. There's another shirt on under, just as tight with the fire department logo emblazoned on the chest of it. He shrugs off the button down and pulls the t shirt over his head and dear lord, why the hell do men feel so called to wear wife beaters under their clothes, I wanna see how fucking hot he is. The t shirt gets tossed into my lap. He really just- gave me the shirt off his back. My gaze locks on to it, only being torn away from the offending garment when he clears his throat and I snap back up to see him, button up back on his shoulders but undone, face sheepish and what I'd guess to be a blush tinting his skin further in the half dark of the ambulance. "You looked uncomfortable."

It's my turn to go red, flush covering most of my skin and incredibly visible. "Thanks." It takes a moment of maneuvering to get the shirt on with the seatbelt, but it's warm and smells of laundry detergent and a hint of cologne.

"Dream, only fuckin' you." His head whips to the other EMT.

"Only fuckin' me what? Huh?" Jade just laughs, head shaking from side to side.

"Only fuckin' you would give the first girl your age on a call the shirt off your damn back." If he wasn't blushing before, he is now, reaching a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

"Sorry if that's weird."

"No, it's- I appreciate it." I do.

"Good work, with the tourniquet. He'd be dead by now without it." Is that really the best thing to say while the guy can hear us? Maybe not. Speaking of the guy,

"Is his leg supposed to turn blue like that?" The relaxation in his face vanishes that instant as he hauls up, moves to where he can look up close at the leg, tearing up the leg of the guy's pants.

"Jade, I need to set it so he can keep the leg, can you keep him still?" A distinct yes, and then I get to watch as his muscles flex, hands gripping tight to the broken leg of this guy, and then an audible crack resounds through the small space of the ambulance as he pushes his body forward. The car guy's closed eyes shoot open, mouth gaping in a yell of pain underneath of an oxygen mask. I'm sure that probably hurts like a bitch, and suddenly I am very grateful that I've never broken a bone.

There's not much left in the ride. The two EMTs, Jade and Dream, mainly continuing to work on keeping his monitor from making the erratic beeping it has been letting out from time to time. The ER is a blur of people bustling around the guy, but I get led from the ambulance by a doctor to check the cut on my arm before he comes to the same conclusion that no, I do not need stitches, but that I do need to change the dressing once a day and gives me some disinfectant cream to put on it when I do. While he cleans the wound out, he asks in a lilted british accent. "Did you really tourniquet the guy with your shirt?"

"Yeah, I did. The one thing I remembered from my EMT class, really came in handy." I joke, and he laughs.

"Well the guy is lucky you did. You're an EMT?" I shake my head, and wince a bit when he presses a bit too hard.

"Nah, I wait tables at the Waterfront in South Orange. Took an EMT class for a summer course cause I thought it'd be fun." He hums, turning to grab more bandages to rewrap my forearm.

"Well maybe you should look into it. Quick thinking like that would get you far there."

"I might." It's a real possibility. My accounting major proved to get me the single most boring desk job ever, and I've been looking into other career paths recently. He smiles at me when he finishes wrapping, pulls a card out of his pocket and a pen, scribbles something on the back of it.

"Put me as a reference if you decide you want to." That's, incredibly nice.

"I will, thank you, uhm," The name stitched into his coat is hard to make out. "Doctor Davidson?"

"George. You're good to go, just need to fill out a little paperwork and then you can leave." He walks over to grab a clipboard and a form, brings it back to me, and then heads over to another bed with a little girl in it, pulling a curtain closed behind him.

A week later, I find myself outside of the massive firehouse on Central Boulevard. There's a couple guys in shirts that match the one in my hand outside washing a firetruck, and one notices me and comes over. He's cute. Dark hair that's a little longer than a boys regular, scraps of facial hair on his cheeks, and brown eyes that crinkle at the edges when he smiles.

"Y'need help with something?" His voice confirms the fact that he's young, and it takes me a minute to pull my eyes away from the way his sleeves are tight around the muscle of his arms.

"Uh, yeah, I'm looking for Dream?" I hold up the shirt and the brownies I made as a last minute addition for the firehouse.

"Ahh, shirt girl. Follow me." He heads into the building through one of the massive garage doors, and it is remarkably clean inside. He heads up some stairs to a balcony that overlooks the firetrucks, and both of the paramedics who had helped me are sitting there, talking over plates of pasta. The guy leading me clears his throat and they both look up.

"Hi." I say awkwardly with a small wave. "I brought your shirt back." Dream flusters, standing up to take the shirt from my hands with a thank you and I give him the brownies, too.

"Dream, cough them up, I want one."

"Sap, shut the hell up, here." He places them gently on the table.

"Okay, what's with your guy's names? No way his name is Sap." All three of them laugh.

"They're nicknames." Dream laughs. "My real name is Clay, and his is Nick. Jade is just Jade though, haven't gotten a nickname for them yet." He looks over his shoulder back at his coworker. "Coward." I feel like there's a story here that I don't know, but I don't press for it.

"I mean, I told you my last station called me Storm, so unless you can top that you can call me Jade and nothing else." I like Jade. Jade's funny.

Clay just rolls his eyes, no real malice behind it. "It's gotta be one we give to you. I'm thinking something about you being our getaway driver."

"Dream if you make a baby driver joke right now I swear you will not live to see tomorrow." He laughs, hard and wheezing, sounding nearly painful.

"Fine, fine." He turns to me. "Thank you for returning this." There's a distinct red flush creeping up his neck, but his smile is genuine, green eyes bright with it. Shit. Why do they have to be unfairly attractive? Who's idea was it? Huh? "I'll walk you out."

He walks me all the way to my car, standing awkwardly next to the door of my car.

"Well, I'll let you get back to work. You got lives to save."

"Wait," He says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I'm sorry if this is too forward, but could I get your number?" Oh. Oh.

"Yeah, of course." He hands me his phone and I punch in my contact, handing his phone back to him. "You should text me so I have yours."

The smile on his face is fitting, full of white teeth and bright happiness. "I will."

I don't think I put my phone down for a week. Clay and I text nearly non stop, and I learn a lot about him in the process. He has a cat (a beautiful tabby named patches who purrs very loudly), he's from Orlando (born and raised, baby.), he wanted to be a firefighter because his dad was one, but his mom who's a nurse had him take EMT training instead (I owe her everything for that), and that he's off work this Friday and wants to head out for drinks with a couple of his fire station buddies and me. I also start getting snapchats from that cute coworker of his, Nick.

I can't tell if Nick intends to be flirting with me or is just trying to get to know the girl his "best fucking friend" is talking to, but... I am definitely feeling some type of way about both of them. It's great, the attention is nice, until Nick invites me out to drinks with them on Friday night not three hours after Clay does.

I feel like my best bet is to be honest with them. I'm not one for lying. And then a new groupchat shows up on my phone. It's got Clay and a number I don't have saved in my phone, and there's a message sent, and then another. I'm scared to open it.

I expect it to be both of them mad that I'm talking to the other and instead it's not? There's a message from Clay and it's-

Dreamie

Hey, I just talked to Nick and wanted to make this groupchat with the three of us. I'm not mad you're talking with him, and he's not mad you're talking to me. We both really like you, and are open to letting you make the decision for yourself if you end up with one of us. Just wanted to communicate that with you :)

And another from who I'm assuming is Nick that says:

Unknown Number

its up to you what happens and if your not ok with this then just tell us and we'll back off.

It's not something I've experienced before talking with two guys at once. Talking with two guys at once that know and work with each other with their consent? Never would have imagined it in a million years. But this is probably the best way to go about it.

Three more days pass before I see either of them in person, still having plans to go out for drinks with Clay on Friday. I end up sandwiched in between the two of them in a both of some firefighter bar on the south side of the city. I feel awkward tucked between them until I get a bit of alcohol flowing through my veins, and then conversation comes like second nature. It's not crazy eventful, feels like I'm hanging out with close friends rather than basically strangers, and it's nice.

The night passes quick, but it's still fun, especially when Clay drives me home and drops me at the bottom of my apartment building with a promise of more plans and a quick kiss that leaves him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears.

In the morning, I wake up to go into work and see a text from Nick, inviting me to dinner with him tonight. I shoot back with a sure, I'd love to. Getting off work at four so that's perfect. and he just sends back a :) and an "I'll pick you up at 7." that makes my shift drag on and on. True to his word, he's outside my apartment building at 7 pm sharp in a button down with his hair brushed neatly behind the wheel of a toyota corolla.

"Where are we even going for dinner?" Nick just shoots me a smile and fucking winks at me.

"You'll see. It's a surprise."

It ends up being some hole in the wall chinese restaurant with what Nick claims is "the best moo goo gai pan in the city". It's fucking amazing, that's for sure, a steaming wok full of it in front of the two of us with plates of fried rice to go with it. It's not an experience I've had at a restaurant before and it's insanely fun. Nick pokes fun at my inability to use chopsticks, tells stories about his friend making fun of him for not being able to use them and learning how at three o'clock in the morning. We're constantly laughing between bites of amazing food, and this easily makes my top three first dates of all time. He refuses to let me pay for my half, but he does let me get the tip after I insist several times that its the least I could do.

We're halfway through a really good conversation about something that doesn't matter when he pulls up to my apartment, and, not wanting that to end, I invite him upstairs with me.

"Oh? It's my turn to come up with you?" He teases, and I'm confused for a second before I realize, oh yeah, I'm essentially talking with him and his best friend.

"What do you mean turn? Clay didn't come up with me, he-" It's probably not the best idea to say he kissed me, I don't want to make Nick jealous. "He dropped me off at the door and he said goodbye." It's not- a lie, per say, but the second it passes my lips I feel guilty, knowing that we need to be honest for this to even have a shot at working. "He kissed me goodbye though." Honesty. We need honesty.

I don't really know what to expect as a reaction from him, but it's not a smile, cocky as ever.

"Does that mean if I go up with you that I get a kiss too?" Nice, easy, no drama with honesty.

"Maybe. You'd have to come find out." The grin he's got stays plastered to his face the whole time we're in the elevator, the whole time he's talking mindlessly about the distinct lack of fire safety in the building, the whole time I'm fighting with the works half the time lock on my door. "It's probably too late for coffee, but I have tea in the fridge or coke, or water if you want it." I say, turning to close the door behind us.

"I'm all good, thank you though." The smile's still there, crinkling his eyes and baring white teeth. "Could go for a kiss, now that I think about it." I shake my head, but still, I laugh.

"What is it that they call it?"

"Kissing? Lip locking? Smooching?"

"One track mind." That one earns a laugh, a hearty one from deep in his throat.

"You're funny." He says, grabbing my hand and gently tugging me to come sit on the couch with him. "And cute." He sits, pulls me with him so I end up sideways in his lap. The hand he led me over with comes up to brush some of the hair out of my face. "And unbelievably pretty. How could I think about anything else?"

Smooth. Smooth as fucking butter. Smooth enough for him to earn a quick press of my lips to his own. I can feel him smiling before I pull back, but he chases, returning with a kiss just as chaste before leaning back into the couch, looking like the cat who got the cream.

"I'm winning. I got two kisses." I roll my eyes.

"Isn't it quality over quantity?" He hums, eyes playing from my lips to my own.

"Why not both?"

"Haha, funny." They're playful, his eyes, as we talk. His bottom lip juts out in a joking pout, and I lean in to kiss at it. He moves at the last second, though, closes the last little bit of space between us when he moves forward to kiss me, soft and slow. His lips are slightly chapped, ever so gentle as the press against mine. My hands press into his thighs to keep me up as his hands come to wrap loosely around my shoulders and he pushes further into the kiss before pulling back.

"Quality?"

"Need more data." I say before our lips meet again. He's sweet with it, the way he kisses me. It's nice, easy, feels familiar even though it isn't, not yet. One of his hands moves to rub soft at the nape of my neck.

I'm just getting comfortable in it when he deepens the kiss, tongue soft against the seam of my lips. It draws a gasp, just what he needs to push further, licking into my mouth before catching my bottom lip between his teeth, worrying at it. He's a good fucking kisser, hahh's into my mouth when I bring my hands up to tug at the dark strands of hair on the back of his head.

But like all good things, it must come to an end. Unfortunately, that end is when my phone starts blaring the insanely annoying ringtone my friend set it as that I don't know how to change.

"Nick, I gotta-"

"Yeah." His arms drop, letting me stand so I can grab my phone and answer whoever is calling.

"Hello?"

"We have new information regarding student loan repayment in your area." Is loud in my ear, so I just pull back and press the red end call button.

Nick laughs a little. "Not important?"

"Spam call. Can't be assed to get put on the do not call list right now. I was doing research."

"Yeah? You happy with the results you're getting?"

This motherfucker I swear.

"This motherfucker I swear." Is also the first thing I say in the morning when I wake up for work and there's a fat hickey on the side of my neck, dark purple and blatantly obvious. I send him a snap of it, just saying really? and he sends back a picture of himself and Clay sitting on the tailgate of a ladder truck with a :) and I am instantly worried that one, Clay saw the snap I sent him and two, that I won't be able to cover it for work. Pushing the first thought out of my mind to focus on the second, I try to get it as normal looking as I can before my shift. It's not perfect, not by a long shot, but it's good enough.

I'm riding the high of not getting comments on it at work when that first thought comes back, catalysted by a snapchat from Clay, a picture barely of his hair with the geotag from the gym down the street from the firehouse with text across it that says "purple looks good on you." I don't know how to respond to that, just send back the floor in front of me. oh come on now pops up in the chat, and he's still typing. not mad. excited for my turn. Right.

sorry I shoot back. this is all pretty new to me

trying to be careful cause i dont wanna mess this up

The little bitmoji he has attached to his account pops up in the corner, lurking for a moment before he starts typing

having these chats is what makes it work. I don't go bragging to Nick about what you and I do, and he doesn't do that to me, but we don't lie about what happens.

its alot, and none of us have done this before

but keeping communication open and honest is how it works

and that means feelings talks

He's right.

youre right

He is. I don't want to make them jealous of each other and that's probably the best way to combat that.

we also have to keep things fair ;) so i get a date too

That has me smiling like an idiot at my phone.

yeah? you got one planned?

not exactly. you doing anything rn though?

I was going to make a sandwich and watch She's the Man for the third time this month.

was gonna watch a movie if you wanna join?

I get a sure, would love to and a could i trouble you for a pick up from the station? that has me grabbing my keys and jogging to the elevator faster than I would like to admit.

When I get there, I head inside to say hi to Nick and collect Clay after both of them have assured me that I'm allowed to do so. I don't see Nick when I first walk in, but I do see Clay and jesus, mary, and joseph his hands. He's working over a slab of what seems to be silicon with those massive fingers moving with the utmost precision. When I get a little closer I can see that he's making sutures to close gashes and holes in the mat. I'm impressed with how uniform they are, each a perfect match of the one before it, and with the speed that his hands were moving, I'd say its even more impressive. I'm- not a perfect person, and the thought of what those hands could do to me has me flushing.

He's pretty wrapped up in what he's doing so I don't want to bother him, but I'm watching so intently that I don't notice Nick come up to me until he hugs me from behind. It makes me jump.

“Shit, Nick, you scared me.”

-gg w the 911 au update

Gg I'm 😩😩😩 you are an amazing writer 🛐 teach me

#pigeon mail #gg my dear

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ratatoongi · 3 years

Text

infidelity-jhs- nineteen

Series summary

↣you have finally got a job at a tattoo shop after months since your Ex Hoseok’s incident at Yoojun tats. You wanna get your life back on track after everything but the past always seems to get caught up in the present and even now when everything is going right everything seems to go wrong so easily.

↣Hopefully, you can forget Hoseok’s infidelity and move on with your life but even now you still think about what could have been.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

↝fic type: exes to lovers

↝main parings: jung hoseok x tattoo artists reader

↝side parings: jikook, namjin

↣genre: smau, bad boy hoseok, comedy-drama

↣warnings: cheating, lying, potty mouths ofc, jealously, mature themes.

↛status: ongoing

a/n: this ones a little bit spicy so get ready😉

@yoongistruth @diamonddia-mond @peachyjk97 @cecedrake2217

Hoseok’s chest rose up and down his lips were parted and his breathing was soft and gentle, you watched. You'd never really looked at him in that way, so close you could see the littlest details, but even then his face was so smooth that you knew it very well. You could stare at it all day, it was perfect, or at least you thought it was. Hobi was sleeping. He was in very deep sleep the night before and was quite tiring, there wasn't a doubt about that. You wanted him to wake up quickly so you could just talk to him and get it over with. This time you wouldn't choke up and not speak your mind. His body started to stir and he grumbled. You backed up a bit.

His dark brown eyes started to flutter open, he shielded them from the bright blinds in front of him. His eyes finally landed on yours. You sat there with a faint smirk which caught Hoseok off guard.

“What with the face?” Hoseok asked. He thought he had done something silly or something weird for you to be smirking like that, or worse there was something on his face. “I can't look at you anymore is that it.” You retorted back. He shook his head while sitting up and stretching his limbs. He turned his back around to crack it, you winced and your face cringed. He let out a chuckle.

“It's not that, I just want to know why you're smirking.” He said quietly, bringing his body closer, sitting criss-cross applesauce. “I was just thinking about last night.” His face now had a little smirk but he rested his head on your shoulder so you couldn't see it. He parted his lip and planted a gentle kiss on your smooth shoulder. “Which part?” He asked. You gasped and giggled at his words. He picked his head up from your shoulder to look at your face. It was his favorite part of you, he didn't know if that made him shallow or something like that but he just loved watching you, specifically your face.

“Can we talk please, I probably would have done it last night but there wasn't much talking last night all together.” You sported a cheeky smile while talking. “Oh, there was talking last night just it wasn’t appropriate for what I am assuming this conversation is going to be about.” You licked your lips. They went dry while inching closer and closer to this talk. “Hoseok I wanna be your girlfriend again.” Hobi’s smile widened.

“But I want you to understand that it's gonna take me a little while to put my trust in you when it comes to certain things.” Hoseok continued to smile and nod. His excitement was too bright and clouded his other thoughts. “I know last time I didn't tell you how I felt and I choked up and I'm sorry, I can get jealous and possessive but I want to work things out and get better with you.” He leaned in really close and kissed your cheek, then your forehead, then your other cheek, your nose, your eyelid, then your lips. He wanted to savor this kiss forever as long as the two of you were together.

He backed away from your face and stared at you. “I missed you.” Hoseok blurted out. “And I’m sorry for thinking that any other girl could make me feel the way you make me feel.” Your eye twitched. He was so so cheesy right now, but then again you didn't mind. “If it takes a trillion years for us to go back to how we used to be then I'll wait.” That's not what you really had in mind so you shook your head no. “I don't want to go back to how we used to be. I want to start a whole new chapter with you.” Hobi tilted his head in confusion so you explained to him what you were saying. “You said you changed since our break up and so have I, as people were different, we have different interests, different styles, different friends so I want a new start as if we never even met each other before.”

You frowned. Sometimes you could be distant and cold but you didn't know that hobi felt that way. “But that's what I fell in love with, you don't need me and I obsess over that cause even if you could have had a better life, relationship whatever without me you're still here with me.” You hid your face in your hands as tears welled up in your eyes. Your shoulders shook and your body had a mind of its own when it leaned into Hobi’s. He wrapped his arms around you, his hands rubbed soothing patterns on your back trying to slow the emotions that overwhelmed you.

Your breathing slowed and Hoseok knew that so he let you go and straightened up. You rubbed your eyes with the bottom left of your hand.

“I love you.” The words left your mouth faster than you could register them. Hoseok did not gasp or his eyes didn't widen. He just got in front of you on the bed. He pulled your ankles down so that your body jolted down and was laying down. He nudged your thighs apart with his head. You slowly parted your thighs. His lips started to slowly work their way from your thighs to your tummy, to your neck, and then your lips.

“You want to know what I love about you.” You nodded with your eyes closed. “I love these lips and how they look and how they feel, what they do with me.” Your mind could think of a couple of things that your lips could do with Hobi. His head leaned against your neck inhaling and licking a long stripe of your earlobe. “This neck is so beautiful especially when it's decorated with tattoos and necklaces and hickeys.” Your smile widened. His head was even farther. “Your chest is always so warm and I love love laying my head on it.” You’re so clouded with lust you don't know what to do with yourself.

“This tummy is perfect no matter how insecure you are, it's perfect.” He knows every part of you inside and out. “These thighs oh these thighs, I think of these thighs at least once a day so soft and so easy to litter with marks.” Your thighs clenched around his head when he got to his favorite part. “And this.” Both of your bodies were bare from the bottom down. He flicked and licked your clit. “This is my favorite, from the taste to the feeling it gives me better than any alcoholic drink can give me, nothing and I mean nothing compares to this sweet cunt.”

You could feel more tears in your eyes from the intensity of his tongue. Your fingers gripped the sheets and arched your back. The sounds you let out were so salacious and you bit your lip so hard you thought you would draw blood but the noises were still too loud for your own home so Hobi took his free hand and stuck a finger in your mouth. Hobi guesses that you could do a couple of things with your mouth. The feelings of intensity grew stronger and stronger. There was a knot in your tummy that only grew tighter as Hoseok continued. Your hands moved from the bedsheets to Hobi’s hair. Hobi knew when you were close he could tell by the way your body started to react.

You cried out Hoseok's name one more time and one final time for now. His head looked up from between your legs and moved closer to your face, leaving kisses all over your body on the way up. He left a big one on your swollen lips.

“I love you too Y/n.”

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sumeshi-t · 4 years

Text

past or present— a haikyuu smau

[oikawa x y/n x atsumu]

a/n: hi !! here we have sum words in between pictures 😔🤘🏻

part 10 > part 11 > part 12A | nav.

you place your phone down on the bedside table, sighing as you watched streaks of sunlight enter through the partially opened blinds.

to be honest, you didn't know what got into your head that made you say those words to atsumu. were you always this impulsive? no, not really. you preferred thinking things through.

perhaps deep inside, you just wanted to find out for yourself what it is that you really feel for the blonde miya, and what he genuinely felt for you too.

it wasn't that you wanted to settle down, or be in a committed relationship anytime soon. it's just that you felt like something was missing in your life even after treating your profession as your spouse. maybe you're just not used to all the flirting anymore. or maybe you were getting old, preferring a more direct approach to trivial matters like this.

trivial... matters? is this really something a person could call trivial?

the early morning thinking made your stomach grumble, prompting you to get off the bed to have breakfast.

'i'll save my appetite for later,' you thought before randomly pulling a bag of bread, then absentmindedly began eating its contents. as soon as you recognize the fluffy texture and creamy taste, a brunette setter flashed through the recesses of your mind.

you look down, noticing that indeed, you were eating milkbread. you faintly remembered how he–oikawa tooru–had once given you a whole month's supply of the food to help in increasing your height. his reasoning was ridiculous, but nonetheless, your dork of an ex was someone you really couldn't resist. 'is that why i was so helpless when we... when he broke up with me?'

just in time, your phone rang, snapping you back into attention. it was atsumu.

"hello?"

"y/n... you weren't kidding when you said you were gonna go here, right?"

that was the first time you heard a hint of hesitation in the usually cool, sure-of-himself, atsumu. the thought made you chuckle. "mhhm, i'll be there a little bit before lunch. what food do you want?"

you hear osamu's voice from a distance saying, "leave that to me,"

"well, you heard him. if you're worried he's gonna stick around later, i'll kick him out."

this makes you gasp, feeling a bit embarrassed of yourself for forgetting to consider his twin, "oh! is he gonna be there later? i... i thought he was gonna go work or... something..." you hiss at the end, slowly regretting your decision.

"yep, he has work don't worry." there was a brief pause and then, as he speaks, you could see it in your head that atsumu was smirking through the receiver; the smirk that seemed to have been embroidered on his handsome face since birth.

"you seem pretty dead set on getting me alone, y/n. why?"

you blush, cheeks heating up with all the blood that suddenly rushed underneath your skin. "b-because! i-it's... it's kind of like a date, right? why, are you two like a package since you're twins?" you berated yourself for stuttering (he was going to tease you for that later, that's for sure). at the same time, you heard something like a pot lid dropping to the floor.

"is... everything okay back there?"

"yeah, samu's fine,"

"...i'm on speaker, aren't i,"

"yep." atsumu pops the last syllable, then proceeds to not put you on speaker anymore. he took an intake of breath, you assumed he was stretching as he asked, "any movies you'd like to watch?"

you sighed, trying to tone down the feeling of embarrassment from the joke you made about the twins, hoping osamu would put it behind him. instead of dwelling on that, you answer atsumu's query, "just nothing too obnoxious, horror is fine, please no porn, cute animated ones are also good, i'm not really that picky with movies." you listed your terms as you get a glass of juice.

atsumu chuckles, snarky comeback ready, "but you do seem picky with the people you date,"

"that, i won't deny."

"and it's a valuable trait to have, right? besides, i think we're both making a good pick here."

you hum for an answer, before taking a quick sip, 'damn it, he's too good at this,' you thought, biting your lip at having been unable to come up with a retort.

atsumu notices that you haven't said anything so, with a soft smile that you couldn't see, he says, "well, i'm not gonna hold you up for long. see you later, y/n."

"osamu just chatted to ask if the food was okay. he's so sweet. i said the food was great. sooo, think you can bring those to training some time?" you say, before shooting a potato chip into your mouth.

you only brought some snacks–basically, junk–for when you two watched movies.

atsumu raises his brow, leaning back comfortably on his side of the sofa. you peep at him when he doesn't respond, then teasingly grins. "atsu, don't tell me: are you jealous i called your brother sweet?"

his ears became a little pink and he aggressively picks the remote up, "why would i be?" he murmurs under his breath. his reaction made you chuckle, before reaching out for his phone. "Ciri, pick a number between one and 20,"

"nice choice, perfectly fitting." atsumu remarks, after putting "50 first dates" on to play.

"right? because this is like our first–no, second–date. unless of course, you forgot about that already."

"i don't have short term memory loss, atsumu."

"no, keep calling me atsu. you're the only one who calls me that." he winks, before digging his hand into the bag of chips atop your lap.

the rest of the movie marathon afternoon was spent by laughing over the same jokes together, you getting emotional at any scene that made you feel emotional, with atsumu making sure to give you tissues and a bowl of ice cream to calm you down.

first, the two of you began the marathon sitting on either end of the sofa, and gradually, things began to get a little chaotic when the both of you became comfortable with each other; such as your feet on atsumu's lap, turning into atsumu sprawled on the floor with his arm on your leg, while you were on the couch, lying on your belly.

to be honest, atsumu spent more time watching you than focusing on the movies on the screen. he could watch them anytime he wanted to, but to observe you up close, and just being around you, your presence just for himself–atsumu felt that it was a once in a lifetime thing, and knew he shouldn't take this moment for granted.

there were more times he's caught himself smiling at you, whether it was when you got scared from a jumpscare (wherein you then laughed at him for flinching, and he ends up defending himself that it was your screaming that shocked him); or when you couldn't control the outburst if your loud laugh and snorting.

'i wish time would stop.' atsumu thinks. 'from here on out, what will become of us?'

sure he seems confident on the outside, but the truth is, this pro athlete is not much of a pro when it comes to dating. he's never really been interested in the prospect of romance, probably because he was surrounded by those who squeal in joy at the sight of him, and getting one would have probably come in easy for him. he even remembers calling his female fans as pigs (even though they were kinda cute–but they were ruining his game! well fuck, that doesn't matter now)

but you? oh y/n, he never said he didn't like a challenge.

now... should he be more direct than he already was? he was sure that he wanted you for himself, but... 'does y/n even want me that way? does she want... anything like that with me?'

it was suddenly quiet, as he immersed himself into his thoughts, losing track of which movie it was you were watching. atsumu took a quick glance at you, only to see that you were fast asleep, head on the edge of the seat. somehow you two ended up switching places, you on the floor and him on the couch.

all his previous thoughts were gone, your peaceful face giving him... peace.

his gentle fingers nimbly brushed a few strands of your hair out of your face. he inches his face closer, his lips just a few inches from your forehead, before you stirred in your sleep.

atsumu gave you one last look before pulling himself away. he smiles to himself, eyes intent on you.

then, he finally notices your horrible position on the floor, which was sure to give you either a back ache or a stiff neck if he was just going to let you be. atsumu sighs, shaking his head.

an idea pops into the blonde setter's mind, causing him to smirk. quickly, he reaches for his phone that was on the couch, swiped open the camera, before looking for a cute angle of yours and grinned at successfully taking a photo of you sleeping soundly without waking you up.

satisfied with his little victory, atsumu finally bends down, carefully wraps his strong arms around your form, and carries you to his shared bedroom. atsumu lays you down on his messy bed (because, he wasn't being possessive, it's just that there was no way he was going to let you end up on his twin's bed).

he took his brother's neat bed, and just let you sleep, toss and turn, while he would toss a ball while lying down. when he grew tired of doing so, and you had your back turned to him, atsumu just pulled his phone out once more and checked the photo he took.

atsumu gently smiles, "i'm so stupid... there's no need for us to rush, am i right y/n?" he murmurs softly, knowing you wouldn't be able to hear him anyway.

for now, he was just going to take his sweet time.

taglist: @tamcitrus @nerdyphantomlady @haikyuuincorrect @aurorahoneybuns @zoppzoop @takingyouruwus @jesquisser @blushinggray

#haikyuu #haikyuu smau #oikawa tooru x reader x atsumu miya #oikawa tooru #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #kuroo tetsurou #kenma kozume #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji

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theinfinitedivides · 4 months

Note

What did Park Ho San say? 😢

mentioned it partially in the tags of my post but i'll post it here with a full translation of the original (native speakers, pls come and tell me if i f*cked anything up, i worked this out with the dictionary, Papago, and gallons worth of tears while crawling through every article i could find):

'i don't believe it, i don't want to believe it, but it wasn't until i received the obituary notice that i did. to me, you were more like Dong Hoon [Lee Sun Kyun's character in My Mister] than Sun Kyun. Sun Kyun-ah, Dong Hoon-ah, my little brother, no matter what you did i really believed in you. how painful must it have been? how hard it must have been... i have to go to the hall [literally 식장에 or 'ceremonial hall' - can be used to refer to a wedding hall, but here it's used for where his memorial/funeral services are being held], but it's a little scary. i'm going to go anyway. even if i can't tell you anything later, i'll carry these words with me: i and all of us who know you really, really believe in you.

since you're lying down, now, take it easy and be at peace. stretch out your legs. forget all your heartache, let it fly away and sleep comfortably. rest well, my warm little brother. ♥️'

#inbox #q: anon #tv: my mister #my mister #my ahjussi #lee sun kyun #lee sun gyun #park ho san #he shared several BTS photos from My Mister too as if that sh*t didn't wreck me enough. f*ck #i know he most likely meant it in a general sense but if i think too hard about that 'stretch out your legs' line considering how they #found him i'm going to have to log off for weeks and i can't do that. nope #on the flip side i cried again so it helped me get that out of my system today. this is becoming a daily occurrence

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benevolentcalamity · 6 years

Photo

(I’m not confident in my ability to write Sangwoo’s character. As such, there may be mistakes. I’m sorry.)

To start things off, you don't consider yourself the colorful type. The kind that brightens up the room just by walking into it, that knows how to make people smile; that everyone can feel relaxed and happy around because of someone so amiable. That kind of person is someone you strive to be, and to be frank, it's more than possible.

Except, at the same time, it isn't.

What's your problem, exactly?

First and foremost, you're fresh out of high school - an online high school, to be exact. People your age tend to be rather haughty, rude even, so you were much less than inclined to go to a regular school campus. In addition to that, crowds tend to make you nervous. Actually, scratch that, you're petrified of them, mostly due to getting overstimulated easy and are thus more susceptible to panicking.

You like to believe things weren't always that way, though. It's not as though your memory can stretch too far anymore, but you want to imagine you were particularly sociable back in the day. Childhood's flown far away from you, taking the memories with it. As of right now, you're blissfully unaware of the possibilities resting in what you forgot. You will, however, continue to believe that the elementary and middle school days were so pretty good, especially with-

Fire, fire fire! Fire from the tongues of liars... You're ashamed of where you're from, Crying 'cause your father's drunk-

Your hand flops onto your phone, turning off the alarm in a quick sliding motion. Just like that, it falls limp beside it, a groan vibrating your throat. Eventually, you pick your head up, feeling your blankets slide off your head and shoulders as you rise up and turn until you're sitting up. Through narrowed eyelids, you take in your surroundings. The same fairy lights, the same variety of colors, the same... everything making up the safety of your bedroom.

Staring up at the color-changing lights, you can't help sighing, it turning into a yawn as you maneuver to the edge of your bed. Even with socks on, your floor feels almost unbearably cold. Standing, you stretch out until you nearly fistbump the ceiling fan, smacking your lips slightly before slowly coming to your senses.

One thing you know full well about yourself is that you're very well adjusted to this entire spiel, where because you no longer have school you have close to nothing to do with yourself. The only time you've gone out of the house is to go grocery shopping with your brother - something that happened once every two weeks, given there's only so much two people can eat in the whole house. It's actually kind of funny.

That's not to say you've given up on yourself, though. Had you given up on life itself out of undeniable stress, you wouldn't be doing the simple things like taking showers and changing your clothes every day. Matter of fact, you probably wouldn't be doing very well if you just gave up. As such, you're going to keep your promises and look for a college to go to. Oddly enough, whether or not you're doing online classes or on-campus classes is almost irrelevant; you miss being around people that much. To put it simply, you're beginning to forget what it feels like to have a normal conversation.

You run a hand through your hair, distinctly remembering showering last night. Rolling your shoulders back, you open one of your drawers, grabbing a hairbrush and running it through your hair. To your relief, it doesn't get caught on any knots, and you're left with perfectly combed hair. Kinda.

Leaning a bit, you open your drawers, finding some clothes. Maneuvering until the door is out of sight, you shed your pajamas, quickly jumping into your day clothes. Smoothing them out, you go over to your bed, turning off your lights and leaving your room, peering up and down the hall before going over to the stairs, going down and into the bathroom.

Turning on the faucet, you cup the cool water in your hands, rubbing it onto your face until it's clean. Finishing up your business, you dry off your face, leaving and going to the kitchen. Meandering about, you assemble what could be described as breakfast, sitting down to eat. As you do, you look around aimlessly, not being able to help frowning slightly at how the house never changes even once. At the very least, you'd like to see something cluttered, so that you'd have something to sort through.

The floor above lets out a variety of creaks, bringing you to attention. Quickly, you finish your meal, moving and washing your dishes and putting them aside, moving into the living room to sit, finding the remote and turning on the TV. Like usual, there's nothing particularly interesting, so you settle on a nature documentary, crossing your legs and leaning back. You're only marginally invested in learning about panda bears, but you will admit the camera people must have had a grand old time filming.

... Who all died when trying to film predators and snakes? How many of these have you watched? Which one was your favorite?

With a grating sigh, you listen to not just what's in front of you, but the other noises in the house. They're travelling from here to there, until eventually they're just nearby. Following that, you hear water in the pipes running, signifying one thing:

Sangwoo's up.

It's only seven in the morning, but your brother's not really the type to just hang around when he has classes. You wouldn't be lying if you ever said you wished he'd stay a bit longer - it gets really boring around here - but you also kind of want to spend more time with him. Then again, you're not inclined to go to the same college as him for the sole reason he wouldn't let you out of his sights if you did.

Even so, you can't help feeling like his has some opportunity, so you'll humor him and apply there for college, but there's another facility you want to go to: Hongik. It has dormitories, so you'll be away from home for it, but you're just not sure what Sangwoo would think of it. He's not really the type to be overly protective, but he's the precise reason that you can't even go outside for a breath of fresh air. At least, not without his permission.

It's infuriating, but what can you do about it? There's been some odd stuff happening as of late, considering the fact that the police force seems more aware and people have been disappearing. Mostly girls a little older than you, though - as such, you can see why nowadays Sangwoo is less than inclined to let you outside. Something could happen to you.

It really doesn't help that you're all he's got, and vice versa. Both your parents are dead, though both at different times. You don't remember much about dad, considering one day, he just... vanished. Of course, you were still pretty young at the time, so you didn't understand what had happened to him. All you knew was that you didn't see him much. Or maybe you did, and you don't remember anymore, per usual.

If you can put things in better words, the memories are gone, but the essence of them is still there, somewhat.

What did dad even look like...?

As for mom, she herself died later on in both of your lives. That was before Sangwoo dyed - bleached? - his hair, so you were old enough to remember. Unfortunately, you weren't around to see the circumstances in which she passed - you'd been up in your room, playing on one of those handheld games she'd gotten you for your birthday. So, you were too focused on it to realize something else was probably going on.

When you learned she was dead, though, you remember you were more than devastated. You kept thinking to yourself that you couldn't live without her; she was everything to you - you're sure of that. You've long forgotten her face and voice, but the essence of her memory is still there. And when you look at Sangwoo, you can feel it.

I wish she were still here... Maybe weekends wouldn't feel so lonely. Maybe you would still have your memories.

Since then, Sangwoo had kept beside you, taking care of you. Neither of you thought about leaving the house despite all the memories, good and bad, attached to it. Even with the emotional weight the deaths of your parents left, he wanted to stay right there, no if, ands, or buts. You didn't complain at first, but you still find yourself getting unreasonably anxious when you meander about the second floor.

The two of you had lost everything - so much that it shouldn't even have to hurt to lose each other. But it does, because the two of you shared a connection; a bond. Though, you don't know whether to call it the love of two siblings or just... well, you don't know how to describe it; you don't remember the last time he hugged you. He used to do so quite a bit when you were little, given how close you two were like siblings should be. As you two got older, though, things slowly changed.

He was... broken, to say the least. You don't remember why, like usual, you just recall you were still too young to understand what was happening around you - or even remember it when it became too much.

Funny how you work ever so differently from Sangwoo, huh. You're managing to forget things at an unpredictably changing rate, while Sangwoo seems to remember things a bit too well. Sometimes, you wish he'd confide in you, in addition to you not feeling this odd anxiety whenever you have any talks at all.

Do you two even depend on each other anymore, in that regard? What's changing with the two of you? Is Sangwoo the man he was supposed to be? You wish you knew.

Be careful what you wish for, little sissy.

"[Name]." It doesn't take a rocket scientist to recognize Sangwoo's voice. Once you hear it, though, you stand up, your socked feet making the softest paps on the floor as you walk to where it came from. Before you know it, you're in the kitchen again, facing him - and like usual, the room's air feels a bit heavier.

You cross your arms, shifting your weight from both legs to your right - a motion your brother mirrors with ease.

Like usual, Sangwoo looks fresh. Then again, he has to when he has classes - otherwise he just looks like he's planning a murder. He looks older on those days; he looks tired. If you're being honest with yourself, you don't like those days, where you have to spend time with him, be it to go grocery shopping or play games together. The latter isn't as fun as it is on your own, mainly because of the fact that Sangwoo doesn't speak or get into the spirit of it. (Unless you two play Mario Kart, wherein he just says 'On your left' or 'On your right' whenever he manages to pass you.)

"Did you eat?" He asks.

"Yes," You nod.

"Alright." Sangwoo grabs a bottle of water from the fridge to shove into his backpack. "I'm not planning on cooking tonight. I'm ordering pizza for us, okay?"

"Okay."

His dark eyes lift up to look at you before he meanders over to your side. It feels as though he's gotten even taller. "Also, don't forget, you have another doctor's appointment tomorrow. It's already on the calendar, but it's established that I should remind you anyway." He lifts a large hand, patting your shoulder twice. "You know the drill, right?"

"No going outside except to get the mail, make sure the house stays clean, don't open the door for anyone, get to bed on time." The last one's pretty out of place, but your bedtime is meant to be earlier. Doctor's orders; the rest is mostly just common sense.

"Right." Sangwoo's hand moves to rub your head. "I have some after-class stuff to do, so I'm gonna be home a little late."

You want to question what that stuff is. "Okay."

He glances at the clock on the oven, patting your shoulder one more time. "See you, kiddo." Just like that, big brother's out the door, leaving you with the faint sound of the TV and the occasional creaking the house makes as though it's speaking to you.

You don't work right. Sangwoo knows. Both of you know. And yet he has the ability to trust you enough not to get in trouble. He's had to play the big brother and the father role now that you two have no parents - something you're sure stresses him out. Though, it's not your fault. You know it's not.

Just thinking about it is making you dizzy even as you're meandering back to the TV, flopping onto the couch with an arm slung under your head.

The past times you went to the doctor, there was nothing physically wrong with you. Then again, you're not sure what's expected of you, given you're not even allowed outside with proper cause.

How long has it been since you had a meaningful conversation with Sangwoo? When was the last time you two went out to have fun? When did he hug you last? Where was he whenever you felt like your own head was ready to collapse from not just the overwhelming boredom, but the strain of trying to fill in the ever-growing blanks in your memory? You don't remember what your own father looked like - not even your mother's voice. In the end, it's up to your desperate subconscious to play make-believe as if a means to keep you from completely falling apart at the seams. And you know full well it's only going to work for so much longer.

It's hard. So hard. And nobody understands.

You don't even remember what your favorite kind of cake is.

Frustrated, you roll onto your stomach, pounding the couch's cushions as if it'd puke out some sort of answer to your issues. There's so many of them, though, that the couch would never be able to provide comfort for them. Just relief for a spine, a butt, or even your head when you can't gather the strength or motivation to sit properly. It's kind of funny, really.

Searching for the remote, you turn off the TV, sighing heavily as you get back up. Lumbering back into the kitchen, you look it over. Sangwoo's good about cleaning up after himself, so you don't have any dishes to worry about. A bit disheartened, you move around, looking for a stain to clean up or something. No dice, again.

You pout, and the cycle repeats all throughout the downstairs - up until you come across the trapdoor to the basement.

As usual, you don't remember why, but you never liked the basement. Even going near it frightens you. You picture it's because you always get a weird smell from it, or maybe you saw a rat or something else down there and you don't remember. Only Sangwoo has the gut to go down there - which he has indeed done. How many times, you don't know, you just know he's the kind of person that can handle anything.

Maybe... just looking won't hurt.

Steadily, you reach for the hoop, fingers trembling. After some mental coaxing - you really shouldn't be this twitchy - you manage to grip it, lifting it until it opens with a resounding 'creak'. The kind of creak haunted houses make in horror movies when people are too stupid to listen to the realtor. You want to see a horror movie where the people are actually smart for once... It'd be a nice break.

The odd smell is even worse now. It's a mixture of vinegar, old wood, and aging pennies; a combination that could easily scream 'haunted'. The next step is to just get down there to see what needs to be cleaned, but even as you try to urge yourself to crawl down there, your body won't move. The silence, the musty smell, the foreboding darkness inside even with the trapdoor open is very quickly becoming too much. You're already ready to throw up.

"... I pass," You say softly, closing the trapdoor again. There will be a day when you can go down there and not be scared - today is not that day.

Deciding to pretend like you didn't even see the inside of the basement, you speedwalk up the stairs, whistling nervously to break the suddenly crushing silence. Something cold begins to twist your stomach, your hair sticking to your neck as your skin grows cold and clammy. Your steps fall to a halt, and you find yourself stuck there like glue, as though held in place by some kind of invisible force. Slowly, you look back, wondering if there’s something back there to be worried about, something causing the feeling of eyes in your back.

Quickly, a blur of shapes and colors passes, and you find yourself letting out a piercing shriek. Before you know it, you're making a mad dash everywhere in the upstairs, eventually finding a closed door and bursting through it, diving into the nearest comfortable looking thing and making a cocoon out of your shirt, sinking your head through the collar and burying your face into your knees after pulling them into it.

A second goes by. Then two. Then three. Then suddenly a full minute passes. Brows curved upwards, you poke your head up and look around, sitting up to look like an actual human again. Glancing around, you take notice of the room's cleanliness, and eventually the decor. Heat returning to your core, you find yourself wondering why you'd even been scared. It's like something just started chasing you up the stairs or something and disappeared the moment you hid.

You shudder, getting onto your feet and straightening out the bed behind you. Meandering shakily out of the room, you close the door behind you and make it so you weren't there at all. Opening closed doors isn't something to do - you know that, and you weren't even taught. Well... you were? You don't know anymore.

Seeking the bathroom, you only glance around for a quick moment. The only thing different about this room is that the shower curtain is drenched from Sangwoo showering earlier. Sighing, you decide to just retreat into your bedroom, peeking through your own curtains to the world outside.

The two of you live just near a street, so there's cars always passing your house. A good activity you did out of boredom - nevermind how long you did it - was count how many black and red cars passed. It kept you occupied, and it was oddly relaxing in terms of any anxiety you had towards future appointments, be them the dentist or doctor.

Doctor! You remember now! Quickly tugging out your phone, you hastily pull up notifications, writing down your appointment - and are scared out of your wit when suddenly your screen changes to a call. Sangwoo's picture appears in the middle of the screen. Quickly, you swipe to the right, holding it up to your ear.

"Give me a heart attack, Sangwoo," You frown. On the other end, he chuckles.

"Sorry, squirt," He hums. Squirt...?

Oh, that's right, that means he's surrounded. Every pet name he gives you on the phone, you realize, signals different things. "Are you in class? Why are you calling me?" This is weird. Extremely weird.

"Don't act so surprised, little sissy. I'm just checking on you," He says merrily. A tone he usually takes on with other people.

You know Sangwoo. There's a particular memory that comes forward with this tone of voice, after all. One time, you two were out going grocery shopping, and like he would demand, you'd be in front of him, pushing the cart with him. (Feeling him breathe on your head was always such a weird feeling.) At some point or another, you recall some guy shouting his name, and like some sort of switch in his head, Sangwoo's expression switched from just stone cold to suddenly undeniably warm and gentle as he was pulled into a conversation with some guy from school.

You don't remember his name. All you remember is that Sangwoo was a completely different person - the kind you wished was your brother at this point - whenever he was talking to people from school. It was almost creepy.

"Thank you?" You mean for it to be a statement, but you're so confused that it switches into a question.

"Everything okay over there? Is the house scary?" He quips.

You want to ask about the basement. "Kind of?"

"Aww. Poor little sissy. Don't you worry about a thing - your big brother's got your back."

Pursing your lips, you nod. "Alright... I- Is that it?"

You hear some other voices in the back, then a sigh, before it's suddenly quiet. Flaring your nostrils, you move the phone away from your ear. "Alright then." Your thumb reaches for the red 'hang up' button, when Sangwoo's voice pipes back up.

"What has my precious little sister been up to, all alone in that big house?" His tone's a bit lower, a signal you know well even now. "Has she been trying to slay the monsters under the house?"

This... doesn't sound like him playing. "No." You sound more composed than you would have expected.

"Good. I've got all that covered. You just play and play, and your big brother's gonna get rid of all the scary things, okay?" He asks. "And did you put down the appointment yet?"

"Yes."

"Alright. Like I said, I'll be home a bit late. Stay out of trouble."

"I want to go outside."

"No." His tone lowers even more; a warning.

"Sangwoo, I-"

"Open a window or something. I don't want you going outside. You remember what we talked about. You could get kidnapped or something. And if you really want a reason not to go out, Let me make something very clear." You grip your phone tightly as his voice lowers even more. "I don't care who's your friend. I don't care who's going to take care of you. It's not like you have either. If you did, they're no longer there - these past couple years made sure of that."

Sangwoo, come on... "Just think of it like a sign, if you wanna start feeling better. Now that your pretty little head's cast out all the scary things, there's no way you can go anywhere. That's why I'm here - and it's also why you should be grateful you're still in that house, you little-" He trails off, and when he speaks back up, his tone's lighter. "Yoonjae's looking for me. We're gonna have a good ol' family dinner when I get back - and we're gonna talk some more about what we've gotta work out, okay?"

Without giving you a word in edgewise, Sangwoo hangs up.

Well, alright then.

It's not unusual for Sangwoo to get riled up when you talk about getting out. Given you're the only family he has now and vice versa, he's hell-bent on "keeping you safe", as he likes putting it. It feels more like he's isolating you, just like he seems to have isolated himself - from you. Whenever the two of you even talk, it's a constant reminder that he doesn't want to let you go. Understandable as it is - you wouldn't want your younger sibling going off on their own if they couldn't remember much even about themselves either. Despite that, it's still unacceptable, in your mind; he's suffocating you.

Finishing up with the notifications, you find your TV and kneel in front of it, tugging out a game - you don't feel like playing Space Invaders again, you did that yesterday - from one of the cubbies. Since Sangwoo doesn't play video games, he was very much chill about you having the systems in your room. Then again, he was fine with everything you did so long as you didn't inconvenience him too much.

Most of the games you have these days are retro or mystery games, moreso for the fact that they're said to be good for your brain. The neurologist did encourage this, since they required you to concentrate and solve puzzles; things that would very much improve your brain function along with your medication.

Before you really know it, you lose yourself in Tetris, completely losing track of time.

...

You don't know how much time went by, but you're ripped to attention when your phone rings again. Putting down your controller, you stand, going over to it and picking up.

"Uh, hello?" You answer.

"Open the door."

You hang up, pocketing your phone and meandering down to the stairs. In your near-frenzy to meet your brother, you miss a step and find yourself tumbling, your limbs being bent in weird directions and your body being bombarded with various impacts until you're laying spread-eagle on the floor.

"... Ow."

Getting back up, you rush to the front door. Opening it up slightly, you quickly recognize Sangwoo and let him in, noticing the two pizza boxes in his arms. Though, he doesn't seem interested in them, glancing at you and then to the kitchen, briefly nodding his head towards it as means of urging you. Not needing to be told twice, you scurry behind him, and once you two are in the kitchen, he puts the boxes on the table and turns to you.

"You fell down the stairs again?" He asks. "I could hear you."

You blink.

"I told you not to get in any trouble," He mentions, eyebrows raising until they look ready to fly off his face. "And here you are, always getting yourself into a mess."

"Well that's not very nice," You hum, to which he just shakes his head.

"Just get a plate and get your pizza, I didn't buy it so it could get cold on the damn table," He orders. Yep, orders.

At this point, you're not in the mood to point out his tone, so you do as he asks, grabbing two slices and sitting down. Even then, though, you're not sure what you should be doing or saying. You want to ask about how his day was, but he'd probably get on you for prying. You want to ask about the basement, but then he'd ridicule you for being scared of the dark. Sibling troubles? Maybe, but you can't help feeling like there's more to it than that.

So, you decide to be presumptuous. "How was your day?" You ask, the tip of your slice barely on your lip.

With a tilted head and an uninterested gaze, he takes about a minute to answer. "Exactly how you would picture my day would be. You might not work right, but you're not an idiot." I've never felt love like that in days. "But, since you asked me, I'll tell you. I got there, I talked to some guys, arm wrestled with Yoonjae-"

"Yoonjae? Like..."

"-Yes, from the store, don't interrupt. This time, I was sure I'd wind up breaking something." Why does he sound so nonchalant? Then he notices the look on your face. "I'm talking about his ego."

You just shrug in acknowledgement, a crease in your brow as you finish your slice, putting down the crust.

"And how about you? How's your day been? I mean, I can probably tell how, but I was nice enough to tell you how my day was," Sangwoo adds, resting his cheek in his palm. His other hand is resting on the table, drumming on it with his fingertips. There's no concrete rhythm, and it's already starting to drive you insane.

"... I cleaned," You say after a bit, though moreso through your teeth. "Most of the house, anyway."

"Where'd you miss?" This time, you avoid your brother's eyes.

"... The basement," You respond, eyes admiring the table. It's slightly scuffed up from use, but otherwise a fine table. But then it rattles following a jarring 'thump' - and you quickly look up to see he's halfway upright, hand slapped to the table to get your attention.

"Did you go down there?" He demands, to which you quickly shake your head. "That's right. You don't need to go down there, okay? There's no way in hell there's anything down there worth almost sh-."

"Watch your profanity."

"- dirtying your pants for." Lowering himself back down, he grabs another slice. "That being said, let's move on. Have you decided what college you're going to?"

You blink, responding, "Hongik University."

"Oh, really?" Huh? "Have you decided your major?"

"Performing Arts. If that doesn't work out, I can always change. It'll be difficult, but it'll be fine, I'm sure." At this point, you're somewhat apprehensive. "I don't have the brain for economics or architecture."

"Sure you don't." He's oddly indifferent, and it shows by how he leans back, setting his mouth in a straight line. "There's not really a whole lot of shame in pursuing a minor field. I don't really expect you to do anything spectacular anyway." When he catches your full - and slightly offended - attention, he leans forward again. "It's been established that you can hardly understand how the world works anymore. I mean, it's okay - there's nothing to understand; nothing to think about."

"So, you're... accepting that I'm applying?" It all depends on if your application is accepted. "I mean, I am gonna be going away there. It has dorms."

"Hey, you fit the qualifications, you're more than capable of taking care of yourself despite... well, your-"

You quickly slam your hand onto the table. "Sangwoo!"

"All I'm saying is that your condition might throw a wrench in your plans," He shrugs. "You're still forgetting things, you know. You'll inevitably forget simple stuff like your schedule, dorm number, even the faces of your professors. Leaving home and being in an unfamiliar place isn't good for you. You don't need that, now do you?"

You frown, to which he makes a flippant gesture of dismissal.

Your "condition" does have a name, the neurologist said - Retrograde Amnesia, or something like that. You're glad it has a name, considering you could undergo treatment according with the research you and Sangwoo would be doing on it.

"That'll be the end of that. Take your medicine and get to bed now," He tells you. "Remember, neurologist appointment. You need to be well-rested, little sissy."

"... Do I have a physical?" You can't help asking. When he shakes his head, you sigh in relief. "Do you need help putting that away?"

"No, now get ready for bed. You remember the orders," He scolds. "I'm not going to be responsible if you wind up passing out or going blank at the office. That's the last thing we want, is a repeat of last month."

"I thought we agreed to never talk about that again!"

"I lied."

You huff. "Whatever." You stand up, meandering towards the stairs. "Goodnight, big bro."

"Goodnight, squirt."

Just as you reach the middle of the stairs, you glance in the direction of the basement trapdoor. Even if you can't see it too well, just looking at it is twisting your stomach. It could've just been the smell or how dark it was down there, but you can't help feeling like there's something down there you need to know about. Something... big. Like a million dollar treasure, or an artifact stolen from the highest security protected museum on the planet.

Though, it's like Sangwoo told you: you don't have any business going down there. Maybe it's just the Oh family secret that only the eldest son could know about, or perhaps there's something relevant to your lost memories down there and that's why Sangwoo's encouraging you to stay away. Why he would, though, is far beyond you just like everything else.

And as you stand in the bathroom, dry swallowing your medication, you wonder at the possibilities.

Looking up into the mirror, you can’t help noticing your reflection. Looking back at you is a girl that seems as though she just crawled out of Wonderland. More than that, everything about her doesn’t feel normal. It’s like she popped out of a storybook, like she was born something that wasn’t meant to be real; like she isn’t supposed to be there in the mirror. Just seeing her makes your heart sink into your stomach.

And the worst part is: that girl is you. Someone who’s lost who she used to be, who she is.

Grabbing your toothbrush, you furiously water it, put toothpaste on, and start brushing. Using a free hand, you close and lock the bathroom door, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and sighing through your nose. Absentmindedly, you run your brush along your teeth at all angles, beginning to sway on your butt - until you fall back and into the tub with a yelp.

A couple seconds later, you hear, “What are you doing up there?”

Twisting a little, you push up and out of the tub - that thing qualifies as something to be in a Japanese locker room - to walk to the sink. Spitting out the toothpaste foam, you turn on the faucet, cupping your hands underneath and slurping up the water, swishing and spitting and repeating until you feel clean. Opening up, you lightly step through the hall and get into your room. Closing the door behind you, you lock it, going and changing into some pajamas.

Plugging in your fairy lights, you crawl into bed, setting your alarm and drifting off, curling up tightly into a ball.

Tomorrow’s Thursday, right? I didn’t look at the calendar...

You glance into your phone again.

You know something... if you pronounced Thursday like Thawrsday... that’d be pretty hilarious.

One of the many side effects of your meds, the Neurologist said, is how you’d be affected overall - so this wild train of thought while you’re drifting away is a sign it’s kicking in.

The moment you put down your hand, you’re out.

@koulej Here it is. I’ll also send it to you in a PM, so that you can see it.

#killingstalking #killing stalking #ks #sangwoo #writing #my writing #readerinsert #I mean I'm not too confident in this story #the only character i feel i can do with relative certainty is bum

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verdigrisprowl · 6 years

Text

Bump Maps

Prowl's been trying to make a holomatter avatar for his alt-mode for...

... a whiiiiiile.

It would be great if he could just take a 3D scan of his alt-mode and just load that data straight into his projector; but, unfortunately, he doesn't have his alt-mode to take a 3D scan of anymore.

He can assemble a 3D model of it—that's no problem, he did that weeks ago—but turning the model into an actual avatar is harder. He's got to put graphics on it. He's got to—cover it in texture maps, and such. The paint and the tires and all that. Artistically.

Prowl is not an artist.

He's been doing his best. He's been painstakingly peeling the texture maps off of his bot-mode avatar, finding the places that corresponds to them on his avatar, and sticking them in place. It... sort of works. But they don't quite react to light correctly—shadows will be cast sideways instead of down, reflections show up backwards—and even when he knows he's lined up the texture maps correctly they never flow from one part into the next correctly, and the parts of him that are exposed in alt-mode but covered in bot-mode don't have texture maps yet, and he's trying to copy/paste bits of the texture maps he does have over on top of sections that have similar paint, but they look awful like that, and...

And right now, his alt-mode looks like a very badly rendered prototype of a CGI car that's going into a racing game.

He's working on it again, tonight. In the berth room, so that he can have it hover several feet over the surface of the berths and scale to 200% without clipping through anything or blocking anyone's view—and occasionally slide under it to grumble at the absolutely terrible excuse for texturing on the undercarriage. He's lying on his back on a berth with a datapad in one hand, examining the texture map in the avatar program and the mess of the actual undercarriage, trying to figure out what was wrong—

"What the hell are you doing?"

Prowl sits up abruptly, bangs his head on the undercarriage, and flops back down on he berth, cursing.

In the doorway, Bonecrusher laughs. "Boss, did you do this?"

"Yeah." He's rubbing his chevron. Ow.

"It's as ugly as Blot."

Prowl doesn't know Blot, but is willing to take it on faith that he's probably pretty ugly. "Yeah. I know it is."

"You should be working downstairs. Better lighting. It'd be easier to notice the slag you've got going on with the shadows."

"You all were watching a movie." A very gory movie. "I didn't want to interrupt."

"Pfff, it sucked anyway. Why are you messin' with the undercarriage?" Bonecrusher gets on his hands and knees to crawl underneath the avatar. Prowl shuffles around so that he can watch Bonecrusher without getting off the berth. "That's one of the last details, you shouldn't even worry about it until you've got the sides people are actually gonna see looking..." Bonecrusher rolls over, looks up at the undercarriage, and falls silent.

"... I know."

"Oh. Wow."

"I know."

"Wooow. How the frag did you do that?" Bonecrusher holds up a hand, waving it next to Prowl's face. "Gimme. What program are you using? What's your stylus setting?"

Prowl sticks the datapad in Bonecrusher's hand. "What would I need a stylus for?"

"You're fingerpainting?" Bonecrusher snatches the datapad and examines the texture map Prowl was working on. "Primus 'n' Mortilus, this is a copy-paste nightmare." He holds it up at arm's length, and then pulls it back in, squinting. "You're working with a photo and moving it around to match your undercarriage?"

"Yeah, more or less."

"Where'd you get the photo? Is it your current undercarriage?"

"It's a stock photo."

Bonecrusher yelps. "It's a STOCK PHOTO? It's a stock—photo? It's STOCK?"

Prowl stares at him, wondering what the problem with that was. "Yyyes?"

"Prowl." Bonecrusher reaches up and claps a hand on Prowl's shoulder, startling him. "You're banned from working on your avatar."

"What!"

"Nuh-uh. I'm finishing it. You're forbidden."

"You can't do that. You're—I still haven't paid any of you back, for all the things you..." Prowl trails off. There's an easy solution to that. "... What do you want me to do in return for you?"

"Hm?" Bonecrusher's already got a stylus out and is completely erasing the undercarriage texture map. The avatar above re-renders every few seconds, leaving a blank gray plane where the texture was supposed to be. Bonecrusher stares up at it in naked horror. He whispers, "What did you do to the bump map."

"What's a bump map?"

"Oh my god."

Prowl tries again. "Bonecrusher. Hey."

"What?" He turns to look at Prowl.

"What do you want me to do for you? For—" he gestures up at the alt-mode avatar, "—sorting all this out."

Bonecrusher drops the datapad to his chest, and looks at Prowl thoughtfully. Finally, he says, "... I need somebody to model my avatars while I'm workin' on them. Out in natural sunlight, usin' natural body language and all. trying to work on avatars T-posing in apartment lighting don't show you how they look on an actual person."

"What's tea posing?"

"You know, that thing where when you're workin' on an avatar, it goes like..." He stretches out his arms and legs in a T shape.

"Oh. Yes, right."

"So we'll go out sometimes and find a place with good lighting and I'll work on an avatar."

"What, in public?"

"Yeah, in public!"

Prowl considers it. Well, if he's in an avatar Bonecrusher's working on, nobody will know it's him anyway. "All right, fine."

"All right." Bonecrusher picks up the datapad again and returns to work. "... And if you agree to model some avatars for me when I get that art show Buzzsaw was talkin' about, I'll throw in transformation animations between bot mode and car mode."

"Thank you." Prowl had no idea how he would have handled that. His original plan was to forget about the transformation sequences and just switch back and forth between bot and car.

"So it's a deal." Bonecrusher punches Prowl's shoulder. Apparently that's how he seals deals. "Now go get me a flashlight. I ain't gonna sort out the mess you made of this bump map if all I've got illuminating it is biolights."

"Okay." Prowl slides off the berth, scoots in a crouch around Bonecrusher's legs, and still at a crouch gets out from underneath the avatar.

He heads downstairs to get a flashlight.

#status

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banshee-cheekbones · 6 years

Note

I don't know if you're willing to write it but there aren't enough babitha fics out there and most of them are fully smut, not that that's a problem but.... prompt? barbara, who is now trying to be honest with tabitha so they'll be okay again, decides to tell her about solomon grundy and tabs sees that she's really changed so surprisingly chooses her? (please it'd make me so happy to actually see some emotional babitha content)

just in time for femslash february + femslash february celebrates black women! here’s some introspection set in a canon divergent version of season 4. contains past Tabitha/Butch and some brief mentions of Edward/Oswald.

~2200 words. on ao3 here.

rev·e·nant, ˈrevəˌnäN,-nənt, noun: a person who has returned, especially supposedly from the dead.

For once, it isn’t raining in Gotham.

From her spot in the shallow window seat of her bedroom, Tabitha can actually take in the view without it being obstructed by fog or swathes of rain pouring from the sky. Not that the view is really that exciting; the place Barbara has chosen to set up shop in isn’t exactly the most renowned area of Gotham. The streetlights are flickering intermittently or burned out altogether, the storefronts across the street are marred by bright streaks of colorful graffiti, and even the cars parked alongside the curbs look old and tired, like they might simply fall apart if someone gave them a hard kick.

Still, while it certainly isn’t the most inspiring landscape in the world, she has to admit that it is still far and away better than the depressing vista that her old rundown apartment, the place her and Selina had used as a base of operations, had looked out upon.

Shifting into a slightly more comfortable position, the glow from the crackling flames burning in the fireplace on the other side of the room dancing along her hand, she takes another sip of her wine. It tastes as expensive as the glass it’s in feels. Both of them serve as testament to how profitable Barbara’s new business venture has been, even though it’s still in its early days.

Part of Tabitha wants to simply squeeze the glass until it crunches and shatters, punctures her hand and makes blood run down her wrist. The other part of her, the part of her that remembers so well the feeling of cheap plastic cups and pitted, scarred coffee mugs that Selina brought home from a dumpster somewhere, wants to simply savor the extravagance, wants to enjoy it for as long as it lasts. After all, it’s bound to end eventually, come crashing down, no matter how hard they work to keep things together; everything else Tabitha has held dear has fallen apart since she followed her brother to this ugly, grime-streaked city.

The only thing guaranteed to remain constant in Gotham is the dreary sky and the omnipresent threat of rain.

Someone knocks quietly on her door, and she turns her head just in time to see it smoothly open, without a creak or groan to be heard. Although her hair is still severe, bleached nearly white and pin straight, Barbara has changed into a black silken robe, which is cinched tight at her narrow waist and nearly reaches the floor. She has a glass of wine to match Tabitha’s in one hand and an envelope in the other, and she doesn’t cross the threshold even though, technically, this is her space more so than it’s Tabitha’s.

“May I come in?” she asks, and only when Tabitha nods does she step inside. The orange glow from the fire flickers across her pale face as she crosses the room, bare feet nearly silent on the floorboards. She pauses in front of the window seat, and Tabitha brings her knees towards her chest so that there’s just enough room for Barbara to sit down. Even in that position, the window seat is small enough that her toes are still brushing against Barbara’s robe, the fabric cool and slippery against her bare skin, so unlike the leather and latex that Tabitha prefers.

It feels… intimate, being this close again. It feels like they should be back in Theo’s penthouse, looking down at the spires and towers of Gotham’s skyscrapers, like they should be laughing together in between kissing and plotting their takeover of the city.

The phantom scent of burning, electrified flesh momentarily wafts through the air, and Tabitha takes another sip of wine to try to clear her head.

Barbara doesn’t say anything. She remains still, one leg drawn up onto the window seat, knee nearly touching the glass of the window, the other stretched out towards the floor. She takes careful sips of her wine, and her fingers tighten and loosen around the envelope in her other hand. The crunching of the material as she squeezes it eventually starts to grate on Tabitha’s ears, and she clears her throat.

“What do you want?” she asks. There’s no way this is just a social visit, no way that Barbara just wants to see how she’s settling in. Perhaps she would have believed that if this was the old Barbara, the one that Tabitha was, momentarily, happy with, but she doesn’t believe that this new woman, this revenant seated before her, is that kind of person. She may say that she’s trying to turn over a new leaf, may have offered up her own hand as recompense for what happened to Tabitha’s, but that doesn’t mean she trusts her yet.

They’re still on shaky ground.

Tabitha isn’t sure if they’ll ever settle again, and perhaps that’s a good thing. The last time she became too complicit, she lost Butch, and she had to electrocute Barbara.

That’s not something she wants to particularly relive anytime soon.

For a few more moments, Barbara remains silent. Her gaze remains turned towards the window, and with half of her face in shadow and the other half bathed by the flicker of the fire, it’s easy for Tabitha to see Barbara as she’d been so long ago, when they’d first met, when Barbara had been fresh out of Arkham Asylum, so full of potential but so undeveloped, so lost.

Given the choice, if Tabitha could back to that time, she thinks it may have been better if they’d simply left Barbara there to wither away.

“Look,” Barbara finally says after she’s finished off her glass of wine and placed it in the tiny space between her hip and the window, “I know you don’t believe me. I know that you think I’m lying about trying to be… better, this time around.”

“Can you really blame me?” Tabitha retorts. A hint of a smile appears on Barbara’s thin lips, and she shakes her head.

“No. But if this is going to work, if we’re going to regain our rightful places on top of this city, we need to do it together. And we can’t do that if we’re continually lying to each other.”

“It might be hard to convince Selina to stop lying.” Barbara laughs and, momentarily, her face actually softens. It’s almost enough for Tabitha to forget about all the reasons that working with Barbara again is a bad idea.

Almost.

“That girl is something else. But I’ll worry about her later. For now…” Trailing off, she opens the envelope and slides out a handful of photographs. The actual pictures are still facing towards her chest; all Tabitha can see is the white backing. Letting the envelope drop to the floor, Barbara keeps a careful grip on the pictures, and she flicks her eyes up to Tabitha’s. She looks almost unsure, nervous, and Tabitha finds herself subtly inching her fingers towards her calf, where she still has a knife tucked into a holster that’s currently hidden by her leggings.

Before she can reach the handle, Barbara sighs and passes her the photographs.

“I have a source in the Narrows who took these for me,” she says, leaning back against the window seat once the pictures are in Tabitha’s hands. “She gave them to me a week ago. I nearly threw them in the fire, but… well, policy of honesty and all that. Besides, you were bound to find out eventually.”

Tabitha hears Barbara’s last words, but they don’t completely register in her head. She’s too busy staring at the subject of the pictures, too busy trying to comprehend what exactly she’s looking at, what this means and how it could be.

Apparently, her life is just destined to be full of revenants.

Everything about him is gray now; his hair, his skin, the circles under his eyes. There are dark ropy veins, almost black in color, visible on his exposed arms and barrel shaped chest, and he’s holding a severed arm in one hand, blood still spurting from the end, spattered across his face and the wrestling ring he’s standing in.

But even though he looks different, and even though she doesn’t understand why he would be in this setting, or what the deal with the arm is, it’s still Butch, and he’s still alive.

(Maybe. Reanimated, at the very least.)

“What is this?” she finally asks as she flicks through the pictures. They’re all fairly similar, apparently taken moments apart from each other. Curling her fingers around the edges and looking back up at Barbara, she continues, “Did you have anything to do with this?”

“Absolutely not,” Barbara snaps, eyes going bright with anger. “I had more pressing things to worry about than bringing your ex-boyfriend back to life.” She sounds almost hurt, and for a few seconds, Tabitha almost apologizes.

She manages to swallow it back. They both have plenty that they probably need to apologize for, but she’s not going to say she’s sorry about Butch. She’s not going to apologize for being happy, even if it was only for a fleeting time.

“Look,” Barbara continues after sighing deeply. “He’s going by the name Solomon Grundy now. And apparently Nygma is operating as his handler.”

Tabitha’s hand twitches, and she automatically reaches for her wrist, runs her thumb over the scar that encircles it. She’d heard tell that the twitchy maggot had managed to defrost himself and run away from The Iceberg Lounge, but then word had been quiet, and she’d been hopeful that he’d died somehow, that maybe Oswald had caught back up to him and dumped him in the river, offed him for good this time.

But to know that, not only is he alive, but that he has his hands on Butch again, may have even played a part in turning him into the thing in the photographs, makes her hands itch to curl around his throat and strangle the life out of him.

“What are they doing down there?” she asks, tearing her eyes away from the pictures. After a moment of consideration, she passes them back to Barbara, who carefully stashes them back in the envelope. Giving them up is difficult, but she doesn’t want to spend the rest of the evening staring at them until her anger chokes her.

“Fighting, so far as I can tell,” Barbara answers, tucking the envelope beside her empty wine glass. “Nygma’s using him to make money hand over fist. Nothing more sinister than that, apparently.”

“For now,” Tabitha responds, leaning her head back against the window sill and closing her eyes. It’s Gotham; it’s only a matter of time before things get more complicated than just a mere money-making scheme. It’s only a matter of time before Penguin gets involved, and if there’s one thing she doesn’t want to get involved in again, it’s a lovers’ quarrel between him and Nygma.

But the thought of Butch possibly being trapped inside this monster, this creature of violence, makes her long for revenge.

“For now,” Barbara repeats. Her hand drops to Tabitha’s knee, and Tabitha opens her eyes, glances down at it. Barbara’s fingernails are painted black, and even though Tabitha knows that her hands are capable of great violence, of eliciting enormous amounts of pain, she can’t help but notice how slim her fingers are, how pale and smooth her skin is.

No scars. At least not on that part of her body.

“I’m sorry,” Barbara says quietly. She doesn’t explain what for; she just lets the words hang there, between them, like it’s up to Tabitha to decide how deep the apology goes. She doesn’t want to give Barbara more credit than she’s due, doesn’t want to inscribe meaning to her words that doesn’t actually exist, but she believes that Barbara is sorry for something. She may be a great actress, but she’s not the best, and Tabitha doesn’t think there’s any way she could fake the softness in her eyes, the way her mouth is slightly open, slack, not pulled tight in a smirk or frown for once.

She remembers falling in love with a Barbara that occasionally looked like this, once upon a time. It’d only been one part of that Barbara, one portion alongside the chaos and the inventiveness and the sheer lust for violence and life, but it’d been a part of her nonetheless.

Idly, even though the image of Butch looking fresh from a grave is still forefront in her mind, Tabitha wonders if, despite everything they’ve done to each other, she could fall for this new Barbara.

“It’s fine,” she answers and, sighing deeply, she reaches out and drops her hand onto Barbara’s, feels the points of Barbara’s knuckles press up into her palm. “I’m glad I found out this way.”

From you is unspoken, but she presumes that Barbara hears it all the same.

“I’m trying,” Barbara says with the barest hint of a smile as she flips her hand around and slides her fingers back slightly, until they slot between Tabitha’s. “I promise I am.”

Tabitha believes her.

Things might end up being different in the light of day, when they go back to business, when they return to plotting their return to the throne but here, in the glow of the fire, in the quietness of her bedroom, as she squeezes Barbara’s hand tightly. Tabitha believes her.

#femslash february #ffcbw #femslash february celebrates black women #babitha #barbara x tabitha #mine #mine: fic #barbaratabitha #i hope you're still around nonny!!#sorry this took a hot minute to get to!

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sl-walker · 7 years

Note

The Breha "rescuing" Maul thing reminds me that I'd love to see more of the two of them interacting, if/when you're up to it. :)

The first time that Bail really knew that it was going to be okay -- really okay, not just manageable, not just tolerated, but actually okay -- was the first time he came home and found his wife and lover asleep together on the couch, in the master suite’s sitting room, with a fire most of the way burned down in the fireplace.

Breha and Maul were incredibly kind to one another from pretty much the start. It seemed that they both recognized how badly they could hurt each other over a situation that neither of them had asked for. If Bail hadn’t already had a lover he was devoted to and who was devoted to him, he knew for a fact that he would have fallen head over heels for Breha Antilles from that first meeting; she was sharp, she was beautiful, she had a quick wit and a smile that made his heart jump even while he was scared out of his mind that she was going to take his major breach of protocol and use it against him.

It wasn’t every day you took your lover to the first proper meeting with your future wife, after all.

He remembered the look in her eyes; the realization that clicked into place. The surprise. But then she blinked and greeted Maul by title -- a title literally only a handful of days old by then -- and said, “It looks like we have some things to discuss.”

There was no threat to the words, no anger. Not even any irritation. Just acceptance, graceful. Maybe that was when Bail started to fall for her anyway, just on how level-headed she handled what had likely been quite a shock.

"Oh, Bail," she had explained much later, "you both looked so frightened. What was I going to do, call a gossip columnist? Demand a broken engagement? I wasn't there to hurt either of you; what good would it have done?"

There were people, even on Alderaan, who would have done just that: Made a fuss, demanded that Bail let go of his lover. That Breha had immediately defaulted to the kindest course spoke well of her. It wasn't easy after that, because all of them had a huge emotional stake in it, but her immediate willingness to work things out and to be respectful to Maul was the first plank in that bridge.

"There's no deception in her," Maul had told him, after a month or so of regular meetings. The stress was wearing on him, and Bail would have done everything within his power to alleviate it, but part of charting the kindest course meant there wasn't much more that could be done.

Bail didn't think to question that; given enough exposure, and Maul had an uncanny (doubtless Force-driven) ability to tell when someone was being truthful or lying. By the time he spoke up with a declaration like that, it was because he was absolutely certain, and thus far, he had never been proven wrong.

"I think that I need to step back," Maul finally said, and Bail's heart had hit his boots so fast that it felt like it had turned to stone to do it.

"Are you-- leaving me?" he managed to ask.

Maul blinked once and then shook his head, emphatically. "Never. Not as long as I'm drawing breath. But she's going to be your wife, and she's going to be the mother of your children." He paused and closed his eyes, then took a breath and then regarded Bail again, solemn, though not-- sad, exactly, as he added more gently, "Bail, I know what you look like in love. You're already halfway there with her. I'm--"

"Don't you dare say you're in the way," Bail warned back, not harshly, but definitely not playing around.

"No. I'm saying that she is an honest, good woman who deserves some space with the man she came back to Alderaan to marry." Maul scrubbed at his face one-handedly, then crossed his arms, though he still looked perfectly serious. "And that you deserve a chance to get to know her. And, if truth be told, I could use some space to sort things out, too."

That was a little better, though Bail still didn't like it. It seemed, to him, that 'a little space' could become a lot of it, if Maul decided to sacrifice his place with Bail just to make life easier for the future Viceroy and Queen. And even if Bail fell hard for Breha, losing Maul would be like having something ripped out of him, something irreplaceable, leaving behind an empty space that would not be filled, that would only bleed and bleed.

"Let me get my grades back out of the grave before some other upstart comes along to begin kicking dirt over them," Maul said, with a little dry quirk of a grin. "I've had three of my professors corner me in concern the past month and a half. And you-- go finish falling in love. I'll be here when you're ready, I'm not going anywhere."

Bail spent the entire first week of that time achingly lonely. Breha took it in stride. And it helped that Bail would find Maul had sent him notes, here or there; occasionally, a holo of some interesting plant he was studying, or a quick rundown of his resurrected grades. Or sometimes just the simple reassurance, I miss you, I love you. It'll be all right.

It did turn out for the better. Because even while Bail and Breha spent more time together, learning who each other were, Breha took it upon herself to go and engage Maul, too. He never asked what they talked about, but after three and a half weeks, Maul sent him a note: You should definitely marry her. She knows how to swear in thirteen different languages. If I were human, I would have been blushing for some of the things she said.

That was one hell of an endorsement. And after that, something had lightened in the air between he and Breha, too. Their times together became lighter, more fun. She seemed more relaxed. Bail was definitely more relaxed.

And he did finish falling in love with her.

Now, over a year later, he regarded them sleeping there. The evolution of their friendship had been steady; more recently, Bail thought he was starting to see something more intimate there, as well. There was more casual contact; Breha, especially, was more physically affectionate. They worked together on projects; Breha had gotten a position in the Ministry of Education with an eye on becoming Minister next time appointments came up, and Maul was more than a little passionate about his coursework, so there were times when they would forget Bail existed while they planned new programs to implement, and he loved watching them brainstorm. They ribbed one another, they joked around, and it was just-- good.

It was good.

The quarantine, though--

For the past few months, there were several Core and Mid-Rim worlds and even some as far as the Outer Rim that had been taken over by some kind of sickness which affected midichlorians. Every day, the news had been getting grimmer and grimmer. The Jedi Order was all but decimated and watching the guardians of the Republic fall like that was every manner of horrible; scientists were confused and everyone had been in a panic, though no civilian deaths had resulted yet.

Bail's mother had issued quarantine orders for Alderaan the moment that the outbreak was confirmed. Bail didn't doubt for half a second that Maul was the very first person she thought of when she made that decision; she was the Queen of Alderaan and she was looking out for the entire system, but the swiftness and sheer number of precautions were no doubt provoked by having an adopted child of her House under threat.

Even with the quarantine in place -- for the system, for the planet and for Aldera -- it had been bad for Maul. At the height of it, when the only news coming out of Coruscant was tragedy in bold letters, Bail had found him curled up in the corner of the library, wrecked practically to tears (and kriff, was that rare), and Bail would never forget what Maul's voice sounded like when he said, "It's like feeling all of the stars go out."

The outbreak had started to finally taper off, the past week or so, though. Still a lingering threat, but numbers of new cases had dropped drastically, and it seemed like some of the pressure had lifted. University had been on its annual main break, so at least that wasn't yet more weight for Maul to deal with, and he wasn't jumping at shadows like he had been for awhile there. Still frayed and pretty clearly exhausted, but-- not quite so bad.

But this--

This was something else entirely.

Breha was stretched out between Maul's side and the back of the couch, head pillowed on his chest; Maul, in turn, had both arms around her in a loose hold, one leg off the couch, foot braced on the ground. Aside hugging -- which they did -- it was the closest Bail had ever seen the two of them.

And it was the most peaceful he had seen Maul in months.

It was a bunch of realizations at once. That Maul trusted her enough to sleep in her presence; no small thing. That she enjoyed being that close to him, in turn. That they had, neither of them, needed anyone to push them there; they had found their way to that place themselves. That they weren't doing it for Bail's sake (something he had worried about many times since this started), but for their own.

He smiled a little bit to himself, then sat on the tea table, reaching out to stroke a strand of Breha's hair behind her ear.

"Hey," she whispered, once she'd cracked her eyes open.

"Hey," Bail whispered back, just looking at them, heart aching for how warm he felt. "You want to stay here, or go to bed?"

It was a purely open question; hell, if Bail could have fit his big frame on the couch with them, he would have, but he wouldn't have been the least bit offended to go to bed alone that night and leave them to stay there.

"Bed, I think," Breha answered, closing her eyes and grinning a little. "The same one, though."

"Good plan," Maul added, muzzily, apparently having woken up in time to hear that, though he didn't bother moving but to draw his fingertips up and down the back of Breha's shoulder.

Bail carried them both there, one at a time, and didn't stop smiling the whole way.

#game of thrones: alderaan #bail #breha #maul #dunno if this is quite what you were after?#but hopefully you like it anyway #<3 #shadowmaat

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